Monday, November 30, 2009

These Are Days

(Except for the members of 10,000 Maniacs other than Natalie Merchant, all of whom are kicking themselves for the band's break-up).

I hope that you and yours had a nice Thanksgiving weekend.

For all of us here at Busy-Dad-E, it was a pleasant 4 days.

It's been a wild 3 months, between having our house on the market (PLEASE SEND SOMEONE TO BUY IT), the arrival of Bab-E drawing ever closer, work, school for Big Brother, some travel, and all the other routine daily activities.

It feels like we blinked and it went from September to (almost) December.

And so, I was thrilled to have the past 4 days off without work that had to be done and anywhere (far) to travel.

We spent a nice Thanksgiving Day at Aunt-E's. The evening ended with screenings of Shrek The Halls, and Home Alone. This was the first time Big Brother has seen this movie, and almost every phrase out of his mouth since has started with, "Why did Kevin..."

On Friday we had a family portrait taken. We did the same thing before Little Brother was born. The boys both did well. Okay, Little Brother did well except for the last 5 minutes, when he threw an utter melt-down tantrum and refused any pose that did not involve me carrying him.

On Saturday we enjoyed a casual lunch with good friends and their children. We followed this up in the aftenoon with (Big Brother and I) jumping a sliding into a ginormous pile of leaves in the backyard.

Yesterday we put up our external Christmas decorations. I hung the lights while the boys "helped." And by helped, I mean I put up the lights while they played ball and rode bikes in the driveway. Although to his credit, Big Brother did put the star on top of the rope Christmas tree.

And, of course, in between these highlights, there was a LOT of story reading, Scooby-Doo watching, in-house hide-and-go-seeking, tickling & giggling, bed jumping, kitchen dancing, and naptime rocking.

Man, I can't wait for paternity leave (cashing in all available vacation and sick leave for 5 weeks off).

Have a good week,

Friday, November 27, 2009

Holiday Artwork

Happy Fatherhood Friday everyone! I hope everyone had a wonderful Thanksgiving. We had quite the nice time with Mom-E's family yesterday. They're still celebrating over at, where a bunch of great bloggers are still fighting over the wishbone. Check it out!

Now that Thanksgiving is officially over, the Christmas season is upon us in full swing.

To get things kicked off around here, Big Brother has presented us with some new holiday artwork.



and, of course, the jolly old elf himself

And lastly, a special treat. Big Brother has updated his self-portrait.

As you can see on the upper right of the blog, this updated picture has replaced his previous one as my blog's "logo." It's amazing to compare this figure to the one he made almost a year ago, and to see all of the new details in his drawing.

I must admit that the transparent clothing is my favorite. Apparently it'll be all the fashion rage in 2010. :)

Have a great weekend,

P.S. Thanks to Busy-Mom-E for your masterful assistance in getting these pictures uploaded. Love ya!

Wednesday, November 25, 2009

Johnny Ate A Booger

...And It Tastes Like Sugar
He Put It In A Pot...
And It Tastes Like Snot.

So sayeth Big Brother.

Quite loudly, in fact, and right in the middle of the checkout lane at the grocery store.

Apparently he learned this little ditty (which is probably stuck in your head now as it is mine), from the (school-aged) daughter of the lady who watches the boys twice weekly.

It reminded me of the scene in the movie Parenthood when the boy sings "When you're sliding into first and you're feeling something burst..." to Steve Martin. "Where'd you learn that, honey" his mother asks. "Last summer at camp, mom," he replies. "That was money well spent," punctuates Steve Martin.

Oh my, Big Brother is growing up.

And sometimes it's small things, like the appropriate time to sing about boogers.

And other times, it's more serious stuff, like death.

I knew it would only be a matter of time before Big Brother started asking more about my mom, whom he never met.

He sees everyone else in the family in pairs: Mom-E and Dad-E, Gramm-E and Pap-Pap, etc.

And so, on our recent trip to my hometown, he (finally) asked, "Why does Pa-Pa live alone?"

"Because my Mom-E died."

"What happened?"

"She was really sick."

"With a bad cold?"

"Well, it was more than that. She had an illness for a long time."

This discussion continued for a while longer with more questions.

Ultimately, we ended up going to the cemetary to visit her grave.

I was surprised that this didn't result in another train of questions. I guess Big Brother was more interested in dancing on the shiny footstones, but I'm sure the questions will follow at some point.

He's had a few brief, vague questions about my mom before, but this time there was definitely a spike in his curiosity.

I just tried to meet him where he is on the subject. I answered his questions directly, but without too much detail.

That's been my general approach to talking to Big Brother about death (or any sensitive issue, for that matter).

He has a rudimentary understanding of the subject (through a squirrel who met an untimely end on the way to the park), though I know he doesn't quite fully understand.

That said, through pictures and stories, I'm sure he'll come to know more about her in his own way, on his own time. And, this Thanksgiving, I'm thankful that Big Brother wants to know more about her.

I look to those occasions with a mix of both dread and a fond reminiscence, it's a feeling that's hard to describe.

Still, it's something important that must be done. He needs to know about his family.

After all, parenting is not for the faint of heart.

See you on Fatherhood Friday,
Happy Thanksgiving,
Don't eat any boogers I wouldn't eat,

Tuesday, November 24, 2009

Best Tattles of All Time

Hello all,

This one was too funny to wait.

So we're driving home yesterday, and Little Brother is pestering the heck out of his next-seat neighbor, Big Brother.

He starts with a raspberry, which prompts Big Brother to point out, "Mom-E, Little Brother is spitting at me."

"Little Brother, we don't spit. Spitting is yucky," we chant in unison.

So, Little Brother, the creative little bugger he is, resorts to just blowing (air) at Big Brother.

"Mom-E, Little Brother is BLOWING HARD AIR at me!"


We laughed so hard we peed a little.

Don't worry. No one was blown over.

Catch ya later,

Monday, November 23, 2009

Something to Chew On

We're bus-E travelling today, so in lieu of a full post, I'll give you a topic:

The speedometer on our Minivan goes up to 160 mph.

Can you think of a scenario in which you'd need to drive 160 mph in a MINIVAN?

(No, being REALLY late to soccer doesn't count.)


See you on Wednesday,

Thursday, November 19, 2009


Happy Fatherhood Friday everyone! It's time to drive yourself over to, where a bunch of great bloggers are "parked."

So, this week, we took THE PLUNGE!

As you may know, Bab-E (#3) is coming soon, and it was finally time to break down and get A MINIVAN!

(Or, as my friend, Kid-Nee, describes--and he's allowed to since he owns one--the "Barket Lounger on Wheels")

That's right, in a 3-person deal, Honda got my Mustang, Mom-E got the Minivan, and I got Mom-E's Toyota. That said, I will still get to do a fair amount of Minivan driving.

I should clarify something: A Mustang is a horribly unfriendly car when it comes to child seats. Impossible to fit a rear-facing one, and even a forward facing seat is like putting your child INTO a sardine can. The only reason we kept the Mustang around as long as we did is that it was paid for.

We've been talking about getting the minivan for awhile now. I find it amazing that almost every time I brought it up with another guy, I got comments about how getting a minivan was akin to abandoning my manhood (in a variety of ways).

Hmm...methinks some folks are a little insecure about their masculinity, perchance?

Personally, I think it's cool.

I draw the analogy that getting a minivan is like the episode of Friends where Joey delights in the pleasures of his "man-bag."

Just like Joey said, "There's all kinds of places to put your stuff."

Not to mention, if you're going to travel by car with multiple kids and a pregnant wife, would you prefer to be cramped in a compact car or actually have some breathing room in a minivan.

Would these same guys tell me I'm abandoning my manhood if I fly first-class instead of coach? (Never flown first-class, but walked by it enough to make the analogy).

Anyway, we've really enjoyed the boys' reaction to the minivan, which Big Brother has now dubbed "The Mystery Machine." Nice.

Little Brother (our potential future veterinarian who prefers to play ball over anything too "technical" right now) saw the minivan the next morning upon awakening. When asked if he like it, he said, "No. I want cereal", but has since come to perseverate on the fact that "There's a new car in there (garage)."

Big Brother, on the other hand, (our future engineer/architect), got to see the minivan right after we brought it home.

He proceeded to do a high-kicking dance in the driveway (wearing only PJ's), screaming, "I love this car. I love this car." (What a missed video opportunity).
Anyway, he wasted no time blowing off sleep to crawl through EVERY INCH of the minivan and press every button his little fingers could find.

The next morning, while Little Brother was busy cereal-hunting, Big Brother asked (while making a bee-line) if he could go "play in the minivan" before going to school. Again, more button pushing.

Of course, given the ultra-strong magnetic power of having to imitate your older sibling, Little Brother is starting to warm up to the minivan, too.

For now, we're just enjoying the fact that it's never been easier to get the kids into the car.

And so, here's to the start of our life with a minivan. May we soon find it hard to imagine how we got by without you.

Thank you for having enough "gadgets" to keep us men-folk occupied, and the functionality and space that will make Mom-E very happy.

Have a good weekend, Drive on!

P.S. I need help renaming "my" Toyota. When Mom-E was the principal driver, Big Brother called it "Sally" from the Disney Cars movie. Any suggestions to complement "The Mystery Machine"?

Wednesday, November 18, 2009

If I Behaved Like My Kids at Work

So Mom-E and I were sitting at the dinner table last night (the boys had long abandoned ship and were off wreaking havoc throughout the house and we didn't want to share any dessert with them), when we started talking about how funny it would be if I acted like the boys when I was at work.

I'll give you just a snapshot, pretty much re-enacting the boys' behavior this evening.


I'd start by heading to lunch naked from the waist down.

"Uh, Dad-E, do you want to put some pants on?" my boss-E would ask.

"I don't want pants!" I'd exclaim, running in the opposite direction.

I'd run to the potty, where I'd pee with the door wide open, and just not forget to wash my hands.

Then I'd proceed to sit on the floor and play with toys while everybody else eats.
When lunch is over, as everyone is headed back to work, I'd go whine to the boss-E, "But I'm hungry. I want something to eat."

Within the first 15 minutes of returning to work, I'd have to go the boss-E to complain that, "So-and-so HIT me!"

(I would neglect to mention that I shoved my co-worker just before being hit.)

If the boss-E asked me to do ANY work, I would proceed to have a temper-tantrum on the floor. And then ask for goldfish.

Then I would just go ahead and take EVERY item out of my desk and throw it on the floor. I would then ask my boss-E to pick all the stuff up for me.

If asked why I wasn't helping to pick things, I'd explain that "I can't", while continuing to play with a pencil.

Then I'd ask my boss-E to carry me around in his arms while HE cleans up my office.

And, of course, I'd have to take a 3 hour nap during the middle of the day. Man, that would be SWEET!

Then after my nap, I'd watch some tv.

When the boss-E again tries to get me to do some actual work, I'd whine about, "Can I watch another Thundercats, please?"

Then I'd beg the boss to let me go play outide in the afternoon. He'd try to tell me that the work day is almost over, but I'd insist on playing outside anyway.

Finally, I'd decide that I have to poop, but I'd insist that the boss-E sit in the bathroom with me and read stories.

And I imagine at that point I'd be asked to take the rest of the day off. Now that would be REALLY SWEET!

See you on Fatherhood Friday,

Monday, November 16, 2009

Open House of Solitude

So our house has been on the market for a little while now. After a decent first month, we haven't had any traffic in about 6 weeks.

Our realtor decided "it's time for a (magic) Open House."

We picked a date in November, working around birthday parties, Thanksgiving, and a mini-vacation, but knowing that there was really no ideal time to have this thing.

First of all, Open Houses are not family-friendly. They're held in the afternoon, right in the middle of NAP TIME.

So the options are:
1. Drive around for about 2 hours in the hopes that small children will fall asleep.
2. Go do something fun, knowing that small children will be completely giddy, hyperactive and delirious due to nap-deprivation.

I had to put in beaucoup hours at work the week before the Open House.

Mom-E is beaucoup pregnant and therefore fatigue is a factor (even though she'd prefer to go full-tilt).

The boys are beaucoup good and making messes (even though they try to help clean up and put away, you can't ask them to lick the Cinnamon Toast Crunch residue off the kitchen floor).

But still, we persevered, and the house was pretty much spotless come Sunday afternoon.

And by persevered, I mean that Mom-E made a detailed schedule of what tasks would get done when, such as:

1. Dad-E stands on a ladder scrubbing dirt/mildew off the gutters with 409 at midnight on a night of his choosing, while Mom-E is scrubbing Cinnamon Toast Crunch residue off the kitchen floor.

2. We both stay up until after 1am the morning of the Open House, only to have both boys wake up before 7am to ensure timely completion of the remainder our to-do list.

3. I'm blowing leaves off the deck, while wearing church clothes and holding a 2 year-old, less than 90 minutes before it's time to leave. Mom-E uses both free arms (which when compared to carrying around small children makes you feel like you have about 6 functioning arms instead of just a pinky finger) to help complete the magical transformation of the house's interior.

And so, we make it out of the house with enough time to spare that we can go grab lunch at (where else) Subway before church. (Which is a good thing, because church is hard enough for us when the boys have full tummies.)

Church runs long, which today is a good thing. When it's over, we only have about an hour to kill.

So we drive to get some gas. Little Brother pretty much falls asleep as we're putting him into the car. Big Brother is calmly enjoying the view.

When we can't don't go home, Big Brother starts in to have a mini-tirade of frustration for about the next 30 minutes. Amazingly, Little Brother is not aroused.

We finally get Big Brother to laugh by telling him, "When you were a baby, you called the kitchen the "chicken", and granola bars "bita barn." His sour mood turns to gut-busting laughter on account of his delirium.

We pull back in to our driveway right at 3pm, greeted by the wonderful news from our realtor that...

Drum roll...

We had a grand total of 0, that's right, ZERO, visitors during the Open House.

In the words of Q-bert, "!@#$%^&*!"

The realtor called all of his realtor buddies, and apparently there was an city-wide "boycott" of open houses, because no one was getting any traffic.

As he's leaving the realtor says, "don't worry, we'll have another Open House sometime."


Oh well, at least the house is clean again (for the next 5 minutes), and Little Brother was successfully transferred from car to crib without interrupting his REM cycle.

Have a good week.

Please come buy our house, or send someone to buy it,

Thursday, November 12, 2009

My Diego

Happy Fatherhood Friday everyone! Fatherhood is, at times, a jungle, but the great bloggers over at will help you navigate your way through it.

In the game "Wheel of Favorite Cartoons", both of my boys have recently become Diego fans.

While some of you have probably been inundated with Diego for years, we are relatively new to the world of "animal rescue."

However, what we lack in experience we make up for with enthusiasm.

And so, you can imagine the excitement (amongst all of the WONDERFUL presents--not trying to slight anyone, just sticking to the post's theme) when Little Brother's birthday present was a Diego Rescue Pack from Gramm-E and Pap-Pap,

and a Diego Talking Gadget Belt from CY-Aunt-E and her Fianc-Eh (who needs an "official" blog name, btw.)

Now, Mom-E and Dad-E knew in advance about the Rescue Pack.

In fact, weeks ago we already bought the same thing for Big Brother for Christmas.

I'd be a big, fat liar fooling myself if I didn't admit to some apprehension about the jealousy factor of having only 1 Rescue Pack (for the time being).

And while we've had a few knock-down, drag-out moments of screaming, it's been interesting to watch the boys interact over these toys.

(I will NOT mention that the Rescue Pack has these "signal flares" that you can shoot up to the ceiling (literally) by pulling on a cord on the strap. I will also NOT mention that I think EVERYONE should have a (talking) backpack complete with signal flares that you can fire off when you need help or are feeling just really happy. Lastly, I will NOT admit to firing off signal flares after the boys have gone to bed. No, not me.)

In short, Big Brother has adopted the attitude of, "I know the Rescue Pack isn't mine...but it's mine." (It does help that Little Brother slightly prefers the Gadget Belt right now).

He (Big Brother) carries it with him everywhere, including to the potty.

He's also made some utterly hysterical comments, such as:
"Little Brother, don't you want to share this (Rescue Pack) with me?" (while bargaining with some (old) blocks)

"I want to show my friends at school my err, Little Brother's Rescue Pack.

"Little Brother, I'll keep your Rescue Pack in my room tonight for SAFE KEEPING."

Poor Little Brother told Mom-E, "I want to ask Santa (to whom he refers as a SHE) for a Rescue Pack."

(It probably didn't help that Big Brother told him, "You need to ask Santa for a Rescue Pack." HUH?!?)

Little Brother has been able to enact some "revenge" by refusing to let go of a telescope that's part of the Gadget Belt, of which Big Brother is particularly fond.

On at least one occasion, I've seen Little Brother dangle the telescope (still firmly in his grasp) in the vicinity Big Brother's face, only to pull it away.

He does so with a grin that so (sweetly) screams, "I know that you want this, but you can't have it and I know how to 'get your goat.'"

Still, the boys appear to be working out thier differences. Just the other day, they worked together with their Diego toys to "rescue" Little Brother's sock monkey from the counter atop a mountain.

Go "Team Diego". I can't wait to set off more signal flares myself see your adventures when we have 2 Rescue Packs.

Have a good weekend,

Wednesday, November 11, 2009

Freedom Isn't Free

My mother told me once in my adolescent years that "you're happier when you're busy."

While that's true to a large extent, it's also important to take time to pause, reflect, enjoy, and pay respects.

(Those of you who know may be scratching your heads because you didn't know I actually have a "pause button", probably because it's usually broken.)

But on Veteran's Day, we pause to show respect and to remember all those who have fought/are fighting for our freedom, at home and abroad.

Thank you for giving me the freedom to enjoy my family.

See you on Fatherhood Friday,
May God Bless America,

Monday, November 9, 2009

Dear Little Brother

Dear Little Brother,

We all enjoyed the recent celebration of your 2nd birthday with friends and family. Mom-E and I can't believe that you're already 2; didn't we just bring your home from the hospital?

In that short time, you've gone from baby to little big boy.

You were quite the character at your birthday party. At first, you were a bit overwhelmed with all of the company, preferring to have Mom-E or I carry you around.

It only took a few minutes before you had stripped from the waist down in Big Brother's room transformed into Batman--suave, confident, and uninhibited--to open prsents.

Fortunately, you transformed back in time to blow out your candles and smear cake and chocolate all over your shirt, which is good as the bat suit is dry-clean only.

Although you emulate Big Brother at every opportunity, your personality is truly your own. You're sweet but confident and not afraid to stand up for youself.

Mom-E and I are amazed by your verbal skills. No doubt, the fact that you repeat everything Big Brother says has helped your language development. Just today at bathtime, when I started washing your hair (which you don't like), you informed me, "That's not cool, Dad-E."

While we'd like to move past your current trick of stipping in your crib and going potty in your bed, we're also impressed that you've already been successful using the big boy potty several times. We fully expect these potty training successes to regress once Baby-E arrives.

You're an animal lover, both stuffed and real. We'd guess at this point a career as a vet is in store for you (though you can do whatever you like as a career, so long as it's legal.)

You're always game to play ball, too, even if that means hitting a gold ball off of a sprinkler head with a plastic baseball bat.

Your favorite drink is "chocky milk," and if we don't cut you off, you'll drink it until you puke. Literally. (We're sorry, Subway, but that's what you get for offering a 48 oz chocolate milk with your kids meal. Somebody should let Jared know about that. Okay, so it's not really 48 oz, but it actually has 300 calories.)

You love and look up to your Big Brother. The two of you appear to truly enjoy playing with each other, and are becoming good friends.

You bring your own unique pronunciation to several words, including our favorites: "glass-lahs" (glasses), "pizz-lah" (pizza), and "f-ck" (truck). Trust me, on the latter we've repeatedly tried to emphasize that truck starts with a t-r.

(We're just glad that there are no trucks at church or the grocery store.)

You're attentive and sensitive to babies. No doubt you'll be a sweet big brother, even if it means giving up being the baby in the family.

Mom-E and I are very proud of you, the boy you've become, and the bigger boy you'll be.

Here's to a great 3rd year. Happy birthday, buddy. Your giggles and sweet smile bring joy to our hearts. There isn't anyone (except Big Brother) that I'd've preferred to carry around for a significant chunk of the last 2 years.

I love you, always, cuddle-bug,

Friday, November 6, 2009


Happy Fatherhood Friday everyone! If you're not in a hyperglycemic coma from Halloween candy, be sure catch up on all of the great bloggers over at

While you're at it, please pass the Milk Duds.

Okay, seriously, I hope that everyone had a safe and Happy Halloween/Trick-or-Treat.

Here at Busy-Dad-E, my boys are still in the dress-up spirit, even if Batman is a bit passe'.

The other day, in lieu of a lollipop while out running errands, someone gave Little Brother 2 plastic Fire Chief hats.

We're not entirely sure what happened, except to say that someone turned on the creative faucet "full blast."

Next thing you know, Big Brother had organized Little Brother (and the rest of the family) into a small volunteer fire department.

The first request was to rescue a dump truck chair from the attic (sorry, CY-Aunt-E, had to go up there with the house on the market) to serve as a fire truck.

This was shortly followed by a plea to get down an old Lightning McQueen step-stool from the laundry room to serve as a ladder.

Then Big Brother wanted his soccer cones for a siren for the truck.

Finally, Dad-E chipped in with the idea that his ties would make good hoses.

(Please note Little Brother did eventually figure out how to turn the hose on.)

And so this week, we've had no shortage of entertainment fire fighting right in the middle of our family room. The entertainment center was almost engulfed in flames on at least 3 separate occasions.

Fortunately, the loudest, shrillest, plastic whistle you ever heard fire alarm helped the firemen arrive on time.

Of course, afraid of being usurped in popularity, Batmen (plural) did make a guest appearance to help out our firement, kinda like when the Harlem Globetrotters appeared on Scooby-Doo.

(They were kind enough to let Big Batman drive the truck.)

Mom-E and I have really enjoyed this creative role-play, especially seeing the boys work together as a "team." Not to mention, as we're about to get bombarded with the commercialism of the holiday season, it's satisfying to know that the boys can have oodles of fun with the stuff that's already hanging around the house.

Have a good weekend,

Wednesday, November 4, 2009

Security Band-Aids

Some kids have blankies.

Other kids have teddy bears or baby dolls.

Little Brother has his band-aids.

That's right, band-aids.

Little Brother is pretty much obsessed with band-aids right now.

If he gets so much as a hang-nail, he needs wants a band-aid.

And once it's on, it's ON. I mean, he wants to leave it on for DAYS at a time such that you'd have to pretty much anesthetize him to get it off or he gets a tan line from the band-aid even in winter.

At other times, he doesn't even have a so-called ouchie. That's right, he just wants a band-aid for security it's own sake.

The funny part is that when I ask him "Where does it go?", he'll look at his right hand, then pull up his right sleeve, then look at his left hand, before finally settling on his left forearm.

"I have a band-aid, Mom-E!", he proudly exclaims.

"Are you sure you don't want me to put it on your forehead, little buddy?"

Someday when he's tall enough to reach the shelf I'm going to come home and that little guy's going to be covered from head to toe in band-aids.

I wish I could "fix" everything that bothered me with a band-aid. But that's what duct tape and super-glue are for.

See you on Fatherhood Friday,
Gotta to run to the store and pick up some more band-aids,

Monday, November 2, 2009

Newsy Notes

Most of the time when I sit down to blog I've already picked out a theme and drafted the high points of the post in my mind.

If I'm feeling uber-obsessive, or have lots of good material, I sometimes find it efficient to do this for a week's worth of posts in one sitting.

However, at other times, just coming up with a theme escapes me.

Today is one of those times.

Call it fatigue, call it whatever, sometimes the focus of life is getting through the daily grind. And still plenty of joy comes from this grind, even if it doesn't provide new blog material.

This phenomenon is remniscent of child development. We're in one of those "holding pattern phases", on the cusp of big changes.

Perhaps I'm still recovering from my trip abroad.

Perhaps we're in shock about Bab-E's pending arrival in a few short months (and still trying to make deposits into the sleep bank.)

Perhaps we're tired and fretting over the constant battle to keep up with the house while it sits is on the market.

So here's a few other tidbits/updates across of variety of things:

1. We had a nice Halloween. The boys ran amok in the yard while Mom-E and I carved the pumpkin. Little Brother tried to hit a golf ball off of the top of a sprinkler head with a plastic fat bat. Big Brother stepped on goldfish crackers in the driveway. Both boys were sucessful in their Trick-or-Treat endeavors.
I'd show you pictures, but I've already posted shots of their costumes. I was particularly proud of Big Brother, who was an amazing helper when it came to passing out candy.

2. Little Brother continues to enjoy stripping in his crib when he has to go potty, and has fertilized his crib sheets at least once since the related post. We just bought him some Diego pull-ups and I wonder if he'd ever wear regular diapers again.

3. Big Brother has become a fan of reruns of the cartoon series Thundercats. Even though I can't get the theme song out of my head, I'm relishing in the nostalgia of one of the cartoons I grew up watching. Big Brother carries a Lego Sword of Omens with him wherever he goes.

4. I recently completed my half-marathon. I was pleased to turn in a respectable time of just over 2 hours. I was chunking along at sub-2 hour pace for the first 11.5 miles before my body said, "What are you doing?" The boys ran wild after the race. I wish there was a kids fun run to help them burn off some energy. The other night, the boys wanted to line up in the kitchen doorway, have Mom-E count to 3, run laps around the house, and then collect their medal (whatever toy was pulled out of the box). I'm glad they're this enthused about exercise.

That's about it for now. Just keeping bus-e enjoying the daily grind.

Have a good week,