My parents were in Cabo San Lucas last week with my sisters and their families. Everyone was able to celebrate mom’s 65th birthday while there. Elise and I joyfully reminisced on the week we spent last year in Cabo: The walks on the beaches, the great food, the booze, the cruise, the fishing, Land’s End, the Sea of Cortez and the no worries life we lived for seven days. It was a tough ordeal having to suffer from extreme nostalgia that left us shaking uncontrollably and crying while blaring Van Halen’s “Cabo Wabo” from the stereo as we envisioned my parents enjoying themselves in Mexico. We stayed home, sulked in jealousy and secretely prayed that my parents would come home pregnant or new owners of a timeshare.
Why we as parents could be legendary super heroes
“I just realized that Maly won’t be able to sneak out of her window when she gets to that ‘sneaking out at night age’.”
“How’s that?”
“Her entire window is covered with a huge solar screen. It would be too difficult for her to remove it and sneak out through her window.”
“Well then she’ll just sneak out through the back door.”
“…”
“Don’t worry, I have ears like a hawk.”
“?”
“Hawks aren’t known for their hearing, are they?”
“Nope.”
“I meant I have hearing like…”
“…”
“Ummm.”
“You have hearing like someone who can hear things really well?”
“EXACTLY!”
Dunlap
Life’s been difficult as of late. This time of downtroddenness was spurred on Father’s Day when I stepped on a scale for the first time in many many months. I weigh more now than I have ever weighed in my life. This weight increase is not from newly acquired solid muscle mass – It’s more like many loose masses that I can feel jiggle whenever I find it absolutely necessary to jog to the pantry to get more snacky cakes and fried puffs of cheese.
We concluded that we need to watch what we eat and have been going about our new diet very half-assed. Last week Elise cooked a delightful and very healthy blackened Cajun talapia with a radish, cilantro and pepper salsa and a side of fresh pineapple. We then drove to the grocery store and pushed Maly around in a shopping cart and mesmerized ourselves by our sleeping baby as we pushed the cart down all of the aisles and eventually to the cash register and then out to the truck. We both laughed when we realized we left our bag of goods in the store. Elise went back into the store.
“We left our bag of groceries at the cash register. We had, um, the bag with Twizzlers, Jolly Ranchers, gummi bears and the Weight Watchers ice cream.”
Dieting is sooo 2003.
18 wheelers collide on 71
There was a major accident on 71 this morning just west of Hamilton Pool road involving two 18-wheelers and a car. I didn’t see a car.
My normal 1 hour commute to work took 2 hours. I don’t like the commute. It’s a dangerous route marked with fluorescent spray paint.
Monthly Maly Letter: Month two
Dear Maly,
You turned two months old this week. We stare at you constantly and note how much you’ve grown. Caught up in the bewilderment that is you, I know your mom and I will not take notice of how old we will have become until it’s too late.
I’ve been thinking a lot recently about how you will choose to go about explaining the meaning of your name. Literally it means “small”. You’re in the 75th percentile for your height and you’re built very much like your dad, so you’ll not be small for very long. To render advice right now I would suggest you say that your name is derived from the Czech language and your parents chose a unique name to distinquish their daughter who they plan to have make her mark in this world. Or you can just tell them we were drunk.
This month you started smiling. Your smile is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Your smile lets me know that you’re happy. You might just be farting, but at least I know you’re happy. Don’t ever stop smiling. Or farting, for that matter.
They say to never get caught up in anticipating a child’s milestones as they grow up too fast as is. It’s very hard not to want for you to hurry up and learn to laugh. I will do everything in my power to freeze time at that point.
You also started “talking” this month. You have many points during the day when you want to interact with us. You will say “GAAAAAAEEEEEEEE AYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYEEEEEEE” to which your mom will say, “Hi. hi. hi. Hi. HI. hi. HIIII. Hiiiiiiiii!”
And you will retort, “ayyyyyyyyyyeeee.”
It’s amazing to watch you and listen to you. You are extremely determined. I already know that you will never settle for failure.
Your mom knows this much better than me but you are beginning to settle into a schedule. Part of this schedule, that I was comfortable in pointing out, is that you wake up extremely pissed. This is another trait you inherited from me. Rarely do you wake up and stare into space until one of us finds you awake nor do you coo to gain our attention. Instead you wake up and throw a fit until one of us picks you up. We don’t mind your wake up rage. We find solace in knowing that we can stop your crying. We take great pride in our roles as your parents.
You’ve had the same zit on your left cheek since shortly after you were born. We’re not supposed to do anything to it but I wish it would go away. When your mom isn’t looking, I drag a fingernail across it, hoping that it will pop. It will go away with time but I’m trying to save you from the aweful embarrassment that I know you’re feeling now due to infant acne.
Overall you’ve been an excellent baby throughout your first two months of life. You didn’t suffer from colic. You and mom worked together and figured out how to nurse you. I caught a summertime flu bug that knocked me out for a week and you managed to stay healthy while cohabitating in the same house. You like being outside and you travel well. You’re happy – I can tell.
Everything you do seems like magic — from looking at me when you hear my voice to projectile pooping all over the front of your mom’s thighs while she tries to change your diaper. You are so amazing and perfect and every day with you is a gift that is too great and big to be encompassed by the word love alone.
I love you so much that sometimes I just want to bite your head off.
Love,
Daddy
Elise earns her blue bandana
Elise, Maly and I woke up early Sunday and headed out to cheer our friend Jenny as she completed the 2006 Danskin Triathlon. We were running late and trying to hurry. The finish line was 3 miles from where we parked, it was 98 degrees outside and we were walking against traffic. Thousands of people were leaving the event as women crossed the finish line and retrieved their bicycles. I was pushing Maly in her stroller on the road instead of on the bumpy and dirty ditch. Elise was leaving a voicemail for Jenny, letting her know we were there and that we wanted to catch up with her after she finished the race.
A woman was riding her bicycle toward us after having finished the race. I would assume that she was riding her bicycle back to her car so she could drive back to Bitchville.
We had a little civil altercation. What’s best is it’s all saved on Jenny’s voicemail.
Triathlete: “You really need to get out of the bike lane.”
Josh: “REALLY?!?!”
Elise: “Hey, we’ve got a newborn here. Be cool. Jiminy Christmas!”
Triathlete: “It’s not like you’re the only people who’ve ever had a newborn.”
Josh: “Why don’t you shut the f*** up?!?!”
Elise: “Yeah, why don’t you chill out a little bit?”
We left it at that. I’m pretty sure she knew we were hardcore when Elise dropped the Jiminy Christmas bomb.
Mentos and Diet Coke
Watch what happens when you skewer four Mentos on a paperclip and rig them to drop into a 2 liter bottle of Diet Coke after having set the chemical reaction to spew out of a 1/8-inch hole.
Monday morning conversations used to be so different
“What the hell is this?”
“Poop.”
“How did it get down here on the carpet?”
“She shot it out of her ass.”
“Oooooh.”
Cognitive no
Elise’s longtime friend, Heather and her four-year-old daughter, Juliet made their annual trip to Austin from Des Moines last week. I was outnumbered by females and soon realized that one day my own daughter will be old enough to be reasoned with. She will say things like, “No. No. No. No. NooooOOOOO!” and be the primary reason for my penchant for Zoloft and vodka.
On Monday night while prepping pork loin pinwheels for dinner I needed some extra toothpicks to use to keep the pinwheels closed for cooking. My hands were dirty with swine juice so I decided to try to employ a four-year-old girl.
“Hey, Juliet. Come over here and help me real quick.”
“No.”
“Please. I need your help.”
“No.”
“Juliet. Seriously. I need you to come over here and get a couple toothpicks for me. My hands are dirty.”
“No.”
“Puleeeeeeeease?”
“No.”
“Come ‘ere.”
“No.”
“Santa Clause hates you. You know that, right?”
Daddy’s Girl
Matt plays on American Witch
It’s pretty cool to turn on David Letterman and see the guy you grew up with playing bass guitar for Rob Zombie.
Very serious hormones
“You couldn’t get me the big bag of Twizzlers?”
“Are you serious?!?”
“I am couped up in this house, raising your daughter, completely shut off from the outside world and sometimes I feel like Twizzlers are the only thing that I have.”
“…”
“I’m serious.”
Second Degree
I tested for my second degree black belt this past Saturday. For the past two months I had been extremely nervous about this test. All went well and surprisingly, I wasn’t half as nervous as I had anticipated.
The most difficult part was reciting, in Korean, the famous poem by Jeong Mong-ju.
Getting my second degree was my goal when I started Tae Kwon Do again after taking a nine year hiatus upon moving to Austin. It felt good to reach that goal.