The Little Warrior hit the 6 Month mark on Monday. Hard to believe that Boy #2 has been around for six months. Seems like it was just a few days ago and Carter was having fun being pregnant. Blink your eyes and he's 6 months old. He's doing good. Happy, healthy and doing all the things that a 6 month old does developmentally. He's a good little baby. Him and his Older Brother are getting closer each and every day. The Elder Boy is always wondering 'where's baby' - looking out for him. Wyatt things that everything Ethan does is the coolest, and can watch him for hours. Very cute to watch them interact with each other.
For those playing along at home. Here are Boy #2's Stats.
6 Month
18 lbs. 4.5 ozs - 75 percentile.
27" long - 75 percentile.
17" ø head
4 Month
15 lbs. 7 ozs - 75 percentile.
25 1/2" long - 75 percentile.
16 7/8" ø head
3 Month
14 lbs. 9.5 ozs - 90 percentile.
25" long - 90 percentile.
16" ø head - 50 percentile.
For those who aren't on my Shutterfly list - and or might have missed (SPAM filters sometimes grab these group emails) my latest Team Tinsley picture offering - poke your finger here!
Until I BLOG again...Peace.
Tuesday, June 29, 2004
Wednesday, June 16, 2004
There Should Be Sad Music Redux
The other night we had the TV stationed on Disney which was playing Air Bud: Strikes Back. There is a whole series of these Air Bud flicks. They all revolve around Bud, the dog star, who excels at some sport, in this one, volleyball, while thwarting something or another, this time jewel thieves. Sound bad? It is? Very bad. But that's not my point. The Elder Boy, Ethan, was some what amused by the movie, mainly because of Bud. The dog does have talent, I'll give him that. Anyway the point...As the movie advanced, Ethan started saying "My dog." I just minded my own business for the first few times, until he said it again, and I asked "Who's your Dog." He replied "Buddy" (this is what the family calls Air Bud.) I agreed with him that Air Bud...Buddy had a lot of personality, real talent in volleyball (Ethan called it basketball) would make a good dog, and went back to watching the movie which had taken a turn for the better. Gabrielle Reece had a cameo, and well, she's pretty hot if you don't mind me typing so in this here, family BLOG. Boy #1 quickly smote my lecherous thoughts with: "Sophie good dog." Now for those that have read this here BLOG, you'll remember that our Dog Dog...Sophie was put to sleep in early May. Ethan hasn't really said that much about her lately - until now. Caught off guard, swallowing a lump in my throat - I just nodded in agreement to which he added "Sophie happy." I thought that a curious thing to say, until I gave it a bit of thought. I imagine he has heard me or his Mom tell someone about putting Sophie to sleep, that she was old, not doing great, and that she was better off, maybe happier in the Dog Dog heaven sense - if there is such a place. I'm not sure on that. I hope Ethan is right - that Dog Dog is happy whether in Dog Dog heaven - or more importantly in our thoughts...in our hearts when we remember her.
Ethan didn't give me a lot of time to be sad about Sophie. He smacked me back to now. In his wonderful two year old mind - Air Bud led to Sophie, and Sophie quickly led to the last standing member of our Pet Family - the infamous Suki. Ethan did his usual "Get Suki" request. I found her minding her own business in our bathroom, and commandeered the cat for the Boy, who spent the rest of the movie loving the shit out of that poor fat cat.
Until I BLOG again...Watch Air Bud!
Ethan didn't give me a lot of time to be sad about Sophie. He smacked me back to now. In his wonderful two year old mind - Air Bud led to Sophie, and Sophie quickly led to the last standing member of our Pet Family - the infamous Suki. Ethan did his usual "Get Suki" request. I found her minding her own business in our bathroom, and commandeered the cat for the Boy, who spent the rest of the movie loving the shit out of that poor fat cat.
Until I BLOG again...Watch Air Bud!
Friday, June 11, 2004
Stop that noise.
One of Boy #1's most cherished books is on the subject of trucks. This large format book has different categories of trucks and heavy equipment on each spread. For example, one spread has emergency type vehicles (paramedic truck, firetruck, firetruck with telescopic ladder, etc.) On each page of the spread there is a question relating to the action on the pages. On the page I described, the question would be: Which truck rescues people trapped in high places? You can't really read this book. You just look at the pictures, and ask the questions. Ethan loves to play along. So much so, that it has shaped his behavior on other books.
The other night he was wanting me to read a truck book he got at the library. This book, had a traditional kid type narative, which I started to read.
Me: (reading the book)
Ethan: Read the book, please.
Me: I'm reading the book?
Ethan: Read the book!
Me: That's what I'm doing Boy (and I start reading again.)
Ethan: (stern look on his face - points at me) Stop that noise.
Me: Excuse me?
Ethan: Daddy, stop that noise. Read book.
The proverbial light bulb goes off over my head - - and it dawns on me that he wants me to ask him questions about the action on the pages - - which I do...and all is fine in our world.
Until I BLOG again....Stop that noise.
The other night he was wanting me to read a truck book he got at the library. This book, had a traditional kid type narative, which I started to read.
Me: (reading the book)
Ethan: Read the book, please.
Me: I'm reading the book?
Ethan: Read the book!
Me: That's what I'm doing Boy (and I start reading again.)
Ethan: (stern look on his face - points at me) Stop that noise.
Me: Excuse me?
Ethan: Daddy, stop that noise. Read book.
The proverbial light bulb goes off over my head - - and it dawns on me that he wants me to ask him questions about the action on the pages - - which I do...and all is fine in our world.
Until I BLOG again....Stop that noise.
Thursday, June 10, 2004
Scary...
I think it safe to assume, of the eight people gathered on Sunday at Sunday's, I was the only one thinking that the entertainer's song choice was a harbinger of my demise.
The Elder Boy, Ethan, has started expressing his fears. These fears are of the two year old variety, monsters, dark hallways, etc. Generally imagined (he's not scared of falling when he's perilously hanging off the back of our sofa for instance.) When he is scared, he will say, 'scary', or 'scary monsters'. If he wants to get to his room to grab a truck, but the hall is dark, he'll come to me, and say "Scary Daddy" as he grabs my hand to assist him. Or, before bed, he'll look at the closet and say "Monsters Daddy, scary."
When he voices his fears, I go into Daddy mode. Throw my shoulders back, puff out my chest, and assure him that everything is cool. No worries. He's safe. Everything well be alright. OK. Good. Mommy and Daddy are here. There's nothing to be afraid of - The usual lines a parent tells a small child that is afraid of things that go bump in the night. Often, which is par for my course, I reheat a movie or song line, in this case the one from Mr. Lennon (the former Beatle, not the Communist) works quite well:
Close your eyes. Have no fear. The monster's gone. He's on the run and your daddy's here. While reassuring him I always tell him everything is going to be alright.
"What a hypocrite!" That's what I thought to myself as I sat at a table at Sunday's having Sunday Brunch. I was in Richmond, VA for a wedding. It was the last day of our trip and I was watching my watch because we needed to head to the airport for our flight which was in two hours. The setting couldn't have been more lovely. Picture perfect. Nothing finer than sitting on a stunning patio on the shore of a lake, eating brunch with the family, drinking a Yuengling Beer(My Okie tongue can't get around that name to pronounce it correctly, thus I had dubbed it Yingding, much to the chagrin of Allison our waitress) and listening to a man with his guitar sing songs. I was enjoying myself, the setting, listening to the conversation of the table until the singer started in on a song that sounded familiar to me. I slowly drifted away from listening to the conversation, and turned my attention to the singer when it hit me, like a scary monster jumping out of a dark hallway. The cat was playing This Old Guitar. Less than two hours before I'm to board a plane for Dallas, and this guy is playing a John Denver song.
This might not sound scary to you, but for me, and my goofy world view it was like Nostradamus was on stage picking a song for me. As simple as 2+2=4. I'm going to fly in 2 hours and one of the last songs I'm going to hear at this restaurant is a John Denver song...a guy who died in a plane crash! Why that song at that time? That's to weird, 'unless'....Let me back up a bit. Back story. I'm afraid to fly. I've always been a hesitant air traveler. Post 9/11, I hate to fly. My fear doesn't ground me, but it does make for a rough (in my head at least) few hours. Pretty much until we are safely on the ground at the destination. I read a piece on Ronald Reagan by Nancy in Time recently, and she said that although the former President was an optimist, he always said a silent prayer when he was taking off in a plane. I do the same thing after we land. I fly, but I do it with clenched teeth, and a sense of dread in the pit of my stomach. Probably the way Ethan feels when he is faced with walking down a dark hallway, or envisions a monster in his closet.
So, as I'm faced with the fears of a two year old, It is forcing me to take a hard look at my fears, both rational and irrational. I tell Ethan there are no monsters in the world. Which is true, in the storybook sense. There are however, men who will crash planes full of people into buildings to rain destruction. That sounds pretty monster-like to me.
It is a big, mean world, where bad things can (and often do) happen. So, when my sweet faced, little brown eyed Elder Boy looks at me and says he's scared - I square my shoulders, puff out my chest, and tell him everything is going to be alright, just like I do when I have to fly.
In the end, what I'm trying to get the Boy(s) to realize is that there isn't anything wrong with being afraid. Everyone is - even me - As long as you don't let said fears stop you from doing what you want to do in this life. One of my favorite things on the subject comes from Dune.
I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when my fear is gone I will turn and face fears path, and only I will remain.
Amen.
Until I BLOG again...Be strong.
The Elder Boy, Ethan, has started expressing his fears. These fears are of the two year old variety, monsters, dark hallways, etc. Generally imagined (he's not scared of falling when he's perilously hanging off the back of our sofa for instance.) When he is scared, he will say, 'scary', or 'scary monsters'. If he wants to get to his room to grab a truck, but the hall is dark, he'll come to me, and say "Scary Daddy" as he grabs my hand to assist him. Or, before bed, he'll look at the closet and say "Monsters Daddy, scary."
When he voices his fears, I go into Daddy mode. Throw my shoulders back, puff out my chest, and assure him that everything is cool. No worries. He's safe. Everything well be alright. OK. Good. Mommy and Daddy are here. There's nothing to be afraid of - The usual lines a parent tells a small child that is afraid of things that go bump in the night. Often, which is par for my course, I reheat a movie or song line, in this case the one from Mr. Lennon (the former Beatle, not the Communist) works quite well:
Close your eyes. Have no fear. The monster's gone. He's on the run and your daddy's here. While reassuring him I always tell him everything is going to be alright.
"What a hypocrite!" That's what I thought to myself as I sat at a table at Sunday's having Sunday Brunch. I was in Richmond, VA for a wedding. It was the last day of our trip and I was watching my watch because we needed to head to the airport for our flight which was in two hours. The setting couldn't have been more lovely. Picture perfect. Nothing finer than sitting on a stunning patio on the shore of a lake, eating brunch with the family, drinking a Yuengling Beer(My Okie tongue can't get around that name to pronounce it correctly, thus I had dubbed it Yingding, much to the chagrin of Allison our waitress) and listening to a man with his guitar sing songs. I was enjoying myself, the setting, listening to the conversation of the table until the singer started in on a song that sounded familiar to me. I slowly drifted away from listening to the conversation, and turned my attention to the singer when it hit me, like a scary monster jumping out of a dark hallway. The cat was playing This Old Guitar. Less than two hours before I'm to board a plane for Dallas, and this guy is playing a John Denver song.
This might not sound scary to you, but for me, and my goofy world view it was like Nostradamus was on stage picking a song for me. As simple as 2+2=4. I'm going to fly in 2 hours and one of the last songs I'm going to hear at this restaurant is a John Denver song...a guy who died in a plane crash! Why that song at that time? That's to weird, 'unless'....Let me back up a bit. Back story. I'm afraid to fly. I've always been a hesitant air traveler. Post 9/11, I hate to fly. My fear doesn't ground me, but it does make for a rough (in my head at least) few hours. Pretty much until we are safely on the ground at the destination. I read a piece on Ronald Reagan by Nancy in Time recently, and she said that although the former President was an optimist, he always said a silent prayer when he was taking off in a plane. I do the same thing after we land. I fly, but I do it with clenched teeth, and a sense of dread in the pit of my stomach. Probably the way Ethan feels when he is faced with walking down a dark hallway, or envisions a monster in his closet.
So, as I'm faced with the fears of a two year old, It is forcing me to take a hard look at my fears, both rational and irrational. I tell Ethan there are no monsters in the world. Which is true, in the storybook sense. There are however, men who will crash planes full of people into buildings to rain destruction. That sounds pretty monster-like to me.
It is a big, mean world, where bad things can (and often do) happen. So, when my sweet faced, little brown eyed Elder Boy looks at me and says he's scared - I square my shoulders, puff out my chest, and tell him everything is going to be alright, just like I do when I have to fly.
In the end, what I'm trying to get the Boy(s) to realize is that there isn't anything wrong with being afraid. Everyone is - even me - As long as you don't let said fears stop you from doing what you want to do in this life. One of my favorite things on the subject comes from Dune.
I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when my fear is gone I will turn and face fears path, and only I will remain.
Amen.
Until I BLOG again...Be strong.
Tuesday, June 08, 2004
Wyatt & Wren
Everyone is always saying how much Wyatt looks like me. As I've blogged before - I don't really see it, although I've thought he looked like someone? Just couldn't put my finger on it - until I saw Carter's youngest brother Wren over the weekend at Kennon (another of Carter's brothers) and Sarah's wedding in Richmond. We haven't seen Wren in sometime, not since he's 'grown' into a fine looking young man.
Dig the below pictures - am I crazy or is there a close resemblence. I think there is - in fact, ever time I saw Wren (he can attest to this - I probably drove him nuts!) I would just stare at him in amazement to the resemblence.
Until I BLOG again - Congrats to Sarah and Kennon Kincaid.
Dig the below pictures - am I crazy or is there a close resemblence. I think there is - in fact, ever time I saw Wren (he can attest to this - I probably drove him nuts!) I would just stare at him in amazement to the resemblence.
Until I BLOG again - Congrats to Sarah and Kennon Kincaid.
Thursday, June 03, 2004
Like Henry...
One of my big things in life - is to always do what I say - Walk the talk. I'm obsessive about being myself in most every situation. So much so, that if I'm going to say the F Bomb (if you read the BLOG, you'll know that I'm trying to quit cursing because of the Boy(s)), I'll just as soon say it in front of the guys as I would in front of my grandma. I'm a lot like Popeye (the Cartoon Character, not the Circus Freak), I am, what I am.
What's my point.
The other day I was asked how I could put such personal things in a BLOG that can be read by pretty much anyone. Friends, family, and complete strangers. Popeye people.
Which leads us to another BLOG in the "I can't believe he is writing this" category.
The Elder Boy is in the infancy stage of Potty Training. He uses the Big Boy Potty once a day, before he takes his bath at night. I mainly get him to do this so he doesn't pee in the bath tub. He LOVES (I've read that most kids do like to do this - at least I hope that is the case!!!!) to drink the bathwater. I can handle giving him a bath in a tub full of water with a little piss. Hell I dribble urine on myself after going to the bathroom, and my knee (insert laugh track) hasn't fallen off yet. What I can't handle is him drinking his own piss. That gets me. So, most nights, I strip him down, and then take off his diaper and tell him to use his "Big Boy Potty" - he does - and then says "Like Henry."
Henry is the character in his Potty Training propaganda book. Aside from the urinating at night - he's pretty much not that interested in using his potty. He is however, interested in the concept and has the curious habit of wanting to "see poo poo." So, imagine yourself at Casa Tinsley. Ethan has just had a bowel movement (generally once a day for those playing along at home) and it is time to change it. I tell him to 'assume the position' which means lie down so I can get to business. He often doesn't want the diaper changed - not because he likes to sit in his own crap, because he doesn't want to slow down, stop whatever it is he was doing. He will often grab the diaper, and run a few feet and throw it in anger. "Assume the position Please..." I usually get him to do it after the second or third request. Usually on the floor. Sometimes on the sofa. And, from time to time on the coffee table in the front room (which he thinks is fun.) About half way through the changing - he starts asking to "see poo poo, see poo poo please." While asking he starts doing a sit up/crunch thing so he can try and see it himself. This doesn't make diapering him easy, so I tell him to sit back and I'll show him when we're done. Done. I then open up the old diaper and show him the 'poo-poo.' His comment is usually, "Yukky." Then he's off to do whatever it was he was doing.
Lately, when I go to the bathroom, he wants to come into the room with me. Like many men, I have little space in my own home, and one of my few sanctuaries, sad, but true, is the crapper. I like to go in and read, be by myself, etc. Stu time. Sad, but true as I said. Since Ethan has mastered the door knob, I can't go into the bathroom without him coming in with me. I've tried locking it a few times, but prefer him being in there with me (he usually wants to brush his teeth while I'm shitting) vs. his pounding on the locked door, wailing for me. After a few minutes, he hops down off of his potty (which is also a stool - so he can be tall enough to brush his teeth) and runs over to me and gets disturbingly close to my nether region, leaning over and trying to peer thru my scrotum, legs asks: "see Daddy's poo poo, see Daddy's poo poo please." So, I spread my legs, hold up my nuts, and let him see my poo poo.
I don't know if this is normal toddler behavior, or if I'm scarring my Elder Boy by letting him do this...My gut tells me, that No, this isn't bad - that being honest and open, will teach him that body parts, and functions are a normal part of life, nothing to be afraid or ashamed of...etc.
Then again, (Pun warning...Pun warning...) I may be shitting myself.
Until I BLOG again...Wash Your Hands.
What's my point.
The other day I was asked how I could put such personal things in a BLOG that can be read by pretty much anyone. Friends, family, and complete strangers. Popeye people.
Which leads us to another BLOG in the "I can't believe he is writing this" category.
The Elder Boy is in the infancy stage of Potty Training. He uses the Big Boy Potty once a day, before he takes his bath at night. I mainly get him to do this so he doesn't pee in the bath tub. He LOVES (I've read that most kids do like to do this - at least I hope that is the case!!!!) to drink the bathwater. I can handle giving him a bath in a tub full of water with a little piss. Hell I dribble urine on myself after going to the bathroom, and my knee (insert laugh track) hasn't fallen off yet. What I can't handle is him drinking his own piss. That gets me. So, most nights, I strip him down, and then take off his diaper and tell him to use his "Big Boy Potty" - he does - and then says "Like Henry."
Henry is the character in his Potty Training propaganda book. Aside from the urinating at night - he's pretty much not that interested in using his potty. He is however, interested in the concept and has the curious habit of wanting to "see poo poo." So, imagine yourself at Casa Tinsley. Ethan has just had a bowel movement (generally once a day for those playing along at home) and it is time to change it. I tell him to 'assume the position' which means lie down so I can get to business. He often doesn't want the diaper changed - not because he likes to sit in his own crap, because he doesn't want to slow down, stop whatever it is he was doing. He will often grab the diaper, and run a few feet and throw it in anger. "Assume the position Please..." I usually get him to do it after the second or third request. Usually on the floor. Sometimes on the sofa. And, from time to time on the coffee table in the front room (which he thinks is fun.) About half way through the changing - he starts asking to "see poo poo, see poo poo please." While asking he starts doing a sit up/crunch thing so he can try and see it himself. This doesn't make diapering him easy, so I tell him to sit back and I'll show him when we're done. Done. I then open up the old diaper and show him the 'poo-poo.' His comment is usually, "Yukky." Then he's off to do whatever it was he was doing.
Lately, when I go to the bathroom, he wants to come into the room with me. Like many men, I have little space in my own home, and one of my few sanctuaries, sad, but true, is the crapper. I like to go in and read, be by myself, etc. Stu time. Sad, but true as I said. Since Ethan has mastered the door knob, I can't go into the bathroom without him coming in with me. I've tried locking it a few times, but prefer him being in there with me (he usually wants to brush his teeth while I'm shitting) vs. his pounding on the locked door, wailing for me. After a few minutes, he hops down off of his potty (which is also a stool - so he can be tall enough to brush his teeth) and runs over to me and gets disturbingly close to my nether region, leaning over and trying to peer thru my scrotum, legs asks: "see Daddy's poo poo, see Daddy's poo poo please." So, I spread my legs, hold up my nuts, and let him see my poo poo.
I don't know if this is normal toddler behavior, or if I'm scarring my Elder Boy by letting him do this...My gut tells me, that No, this isn't bad - that being honest and open, will teach him that body parts, and functions are a normal part of life, nothing to be afraid or ashamed of...etc.
Then again, (Pun warning...Pun warning...) I may be shitting myself.
Until I BLOG again...Wash Your Hands.
Wednesday, June 02, 2004
Lost In Translation
The first adult movie I rented from Netflix was Lost In Translation. It is a movie that I had been wanting to see for a long time. In fact, I had rented it a month or so ago from my friends at Blockbuster (who had two VHS copies in the entire store!!!) but the VHS tape was bad! Only got to watch the first five minutes. So - when I got the new DVD player, and joined Netflix, I was excited about getting Lost in Translation.
Much has been said and written about this movie. Seems people either love it or hate it. Carter, didn't even watch it all - she thought it was slow. I however, thought it was one of the most interesting movies I've seen in a long time. Bill Murray did in fact deserve the Oscar nod (and perhaps should have won, although I'll reserve that opinion until I view Mystic River and see Sean Penn's performance.) Anyway, since this BLOG is about all things family...Team Tinsley, my point in the LIT reference is this gem of dialogue between the two main characters - which is spot on (for me at least.)
---------------------------------------------------------------------
Bob : It gets a whole lot more complicated when you have kids.
Charlotte : It's scary.
Bob : The most terrifying day of your life is the day the first one is born.
Charlotte : Nobody ever tells you that.
Bob : Your life, as you know it... is gone. Never to return. But they learn how to walk, and they learn how to talk... and you want to be with them. And they turn out to be the most delightful people you will ever meet in your life.
Charlotte : That's nice.
---------------------------------------------------------------------
Amen to that. Both our Boy(s) are in fact, delightful people. The Younger, just turned 5 months old this past Friday. He's a smiley, happy, and laid back. He's past that infant blob stage, and becoming the little person he will become...if that makes sense. My heart swells with pride each time I look at him.
The Elder, as described in previous BLOGS, is now talking - all the time. He has his own thoughts, ideas, and fears. He didn't just get them obviously, always had them, the difference now is that he can discuss them with us. I can't begin to describe what an amazing thing this is for me. Hard to capture in words - but to shine a light on how I feel, I think short of both of their births, and getting hitched to their Mom, it has to be one of the coolest things I've ever experienced. To sit and have a conversation with him about 'trucks' and or what he's doing or did, just blows me away. To have him ask for me to play a song in the truck when driving around. Ask for something specific. Tell me a fear. Before, as I've written, it was the Toddler Charade game - trying to deduce what he was after based on his body language, our surroundings, and a few key words. To tie this goofy BLOG together, most of the time his message was "lost in translation." No more.
If you haven't seen Lost In Translation, check it out, real hard. I give it two thumbs up...in fact, it is worth the price of rental just to hear Bill Murray sing (What's So Funny 'Bout) Peace Love & Understanding at Karaoke.
Until I BLOG again...Summer Lovin'
Much has been said and written about this movie. Seems people either love it or hate it. Carter, didn't even watch it all - she thought it was slow. I however, thought it was one of the most interesting movies I've seen in a long time. Bill Murray did in fact deserve the Oscar nod (and perhaps should have won, although I'll reserve that opinion until I view Mystic River and see Sean Penn's performance.) Anyway, since this BLOG is about all things family...Team Tinsley, my point in the LIT reference is this gem of dialogue between the two main characters - which is spot on (for me at least.)
---------------------------------------------------------------------
Bob : It gets a whole lot more complicated when you have kids.
Charlotte : It's scary.
Bob : The most terrifying day of your life is the day the first one is born.
Charlotte : Nobody ever tells you that.
Bob : Your life, as you know it... is gone. Never to return. But they learn how to walk, and they learn how to talk... and you want to be with them. And they turn out to be the most delightful people you will ever meet in your life.
Charlotte : That's nice.
---------------------------------------------------------------------
Amen to that. Both our Boy(s) are in fact, delightful people. The Younger, just turned 5 months old this past Friday. He's a smiley, happy, and laid back. He's past that infant blob stage, and becoming the little person he will become...if that makes sense. My heart swells with pride each time I look at him.
The Elder, as described in previous BLOGS, is now talking - all the time. He has his own thoughts, ideas, and fears. He didn't just get them obviously, always had them, the difference now is that he can discuss them with us. I can't begin to describe what an amazing thing this is for me. Hard to capture in words - but to shine a light on how I feel, I think short of both of their births, and getting hitched to their Mom, it has to be one of the coolest things I've ever experienced. To sit and have a conversation with him about 'trucks' and or what he's doing or did, just blows me away. To have him ask for me to play a song in the truck when driving around. Ask for something specific. Tell me a fear. Before, as I've written, it was the Toddler Charade game - trying to deduce what he was after based on his body language, our surroundings, and a few key words. To tie this goofy BLOG together, most of the time his message was "lost in translation." No more.
If you haven't seen Lost In Translation, check it out, real hard. I give it two thumbs up...in fact, it is worth the price of rental just to hear Bill Murray sing (What's So Funny 'Bout) Peace Love & Understanding at Karaoke.
Until I BLOG again...Summer Lovin'
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
