Before I start my entry, I wanted to give everybody a "life hack" I use a lot. It's a small thing, but it saves me a lot of time and grief. If you are like me, you do fair amount of copying and pasting text from webpages into Word documents or from an email into a blog post, that type of thing -- moving text across different platforms. Use Notepad as a go-between and the formatting is less likely to be all messed up. For example, if I cut-and-paste something directly from Gmail into Blogger, the format gets all wonky (weird carriage returns and things like that) and I have to do a bunch of reformatting, but if I first cut-and-paste into Notepad and then cut-and-paste into Blogger -- perfecto! -- everything works, no fuss, no muss. So there you go: Use Notepad. The more you know.
And now for the featured presentation.
I had a much better week this week because Lil' S had a much better week. He's still not sleeping through the night, but he's usually pretty easy to get back to sleep when he does wake up, and he's not getting up super early anymore. And even if he does wake up before my alarm, sometimes he just chills in his room on his own. This morning he was just sitting on his chair looking at a book when I woke up; I have no idea for how long. When I went into his room to get him, he smiled at me and said, "I reading, Daddy". It was a heart-melting moment.
His birthday is coming up -- he'll be two in a few weeks -- and we're having a party for him, which is one of the many activities we have planned this month. It's shaping up to be a busy month of August (and even into September). One of S's really good friends (A of the infamous Routeburn Trail trip -- still one of my favorite, and surely one of S's least favorite, anecdotes) is getting married tomorrow. In fact, S is at the rehearsal dinner right now. It's funny, when I'm watching the little man, S will often try to persuade me to do the things with him that she would do, even though I have no interest in doing them. For example, she wanted me to take him to a music festival tonight that sounded like way more hassle than payoff. And on Saturday morning (my weekend morning with him) she always wants me to go to the farmer's market. But I don't like markets, farmer or otherwise.
"He loves it, though," S argues.
"Well," I counter, "he also loves pouring water down his pants, and we can do that in our backyard."
I mean, c'mon, who's the one who really loves it?
Tomorrow our friend RB is coming over to watch him during the wedding, which might be interesting, but hopefully won't be. Interesting is bad when it comes to babysitting a toddler. It will be the first time a non-family member will have to put him to bed. Intuitively, it seems like it should go badly, but I'm guessing that it won't. My rationale is explained in the following. I've learned from talking to Lil' S's teachers at daycare (through S, of course, I generally just say hi and bye to them) that he acts differently around us than he does around them. He's much fussier around us, and in particular, he's much, much fussier around S. Why? Because S will indulge it. She, admittedly, will cave. (It's at the point where I have to get him every time he wakes up because if S gets him, he won't go back to sleep without huge production of milk and pacifiers and hugs and cuddles.) The people at daycare don't indulge his crankiness (I try not to, but I cave sometimes too), and so he doesn't do it with them. My hope is that he'll treat RB like he does his daycare teachers and more or less just be a good kid. Plus, he knows RB well, and likes her, so I think the "freak-out factor" is pretty low. I think it will be fine. We shall see.
My back is also feeling a little better this week. I got some anti-inflammatories that I think are helping. I was suppose to review the MRI results with a specialist on Thursday, but they canceled the appointment because the doctor I was supposed to see quit the practice. Not only that, but they don't have another doctor on staff who does what he does, so I had to find an entirely new clinic. At first I was incredibly annoyed (How unprofessional is it to quit while you have patients scheduled with no contingency plan for them?), but I found a place close to my work, and I wasn't that impressed with the other clinic anyway. So ... whatever.
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In other news, the Seahawks played their first preseason game last night against the Denver Broncos. Don't worry, I'm not going to blather on about the Seahawks; I have a whole other blog for that, and I hate preseason football, anyway. I'm bringing up the Seahawks strictly as a segue to talk about an underrated aspect of being a sports nerd that doesn't have much to do with sports. As you get older, which I am doing, sports associations become a great way to mark time. For example, I know my oldest nephew was born in 2005 because that was the year the Seahawks made it to the Super Bowl (the first time), and I remember watching games from that season while holding him as a newborn. Also, I know I went to summer camp in 1989 because I remember talking about Mike Tyson's fight against Carl Williams with the other kids. And I know we took a family vacation to Ohio in 1988 because I remember reading about the Reds' hot rookie Chris Sabo at my grandparents' house. I could go on and on and on. My batting average (pardon the pun) of knowing when life events occurred is very high because I associate them with the sporting news of the day, and sports happen in fixed, easy-to-remember seasons, and even if you forget a year, you can look it up in a second.
I was thinking of this today because I was thinking of my ninth grade dance for some unknown random reason. I took a girl named J who was only in our school district for half a year. (Because she came late, her picture was at the end of the yearbook with, as it so happened, all the special ed students. So my friend JY's favorite joke was to point to the picture next to hers, an obviously "challenged" young man, and proclaim, "This was DG's date to the ninth grade dance". Not a very sensitive joke in retrospect.) On the night of the dance I went over to her house and hung out with her kinda charming, kinda dickheaded dad while she finished getting ready. He was watching baseball and drinking beer. I remember he had a half-empty six-pack sitting on the table next to him, which is a good tipoff he probably had a drinking problem. When you don't even bother to refrigerate your beers because you will be drinking them so quickly -- that's a bad sign.
Anyway, I remember him getting really excited because Dave Valle drove in a run. Based on this information I decided to try to figure out the exact game we were watching. And I believe I did. It was actually really easy to figure out. I knew the year (1993), the approximate month (May or June, since it was at the end of the school year), the approximate day of week (Friday, maybe Saturday, but very likely Friday), and the approximate time (5:00 pm, we ate dinner at a Mexican restaurant beforehand, so it had to be on the early side). From there, I looked at Dave Valle's game logs and found just one candidate (click here if your inner baseball nerd is making you curious). It was Friday June 4, 1993. The game was in Baltimore which means it was a 4:30 West Coast start time, and Dave Valle delivered an RBI single in the 4th inning, which would have been right around 5:30. It all fits perfectly. This has to be the game. It looks like a tough one for the Mariners too, as they blew a two-run lead in the ninth before losing in the tenth.
Usually I would've been home watching the Mariners, but on that night, I had better things to do -- by which I mean, I went to a junior high dance with a girl who actually seemed to like me (a rarity in those days), and then I chickened out when it came time for a good night kiss, and then I never saw her again. But hey, we will always have Moctezuma's and Vanessa Williams.
Until next time ...
And now for the featured presentation.
I had a much better week this week because Lil' S had a much better week. He's still not sleeping through the night, but he's usually pretty easy to get back to sleep when he does wake up, and he's not getting up super early anymore. And even if he does wake up before my alarm, sometimes he just chills in his room on his own. This morning he was just sitting on his chair looking at a book when I woke up; I have no idea for how long. When I went into his room to get him, he smiled at me and said, "I reading, Daddy". It was a heart-melting moment.
His birthday is coming up -- he'll be two in a few weeks -- and we're having a party for him, which is one of the many activities we have planned this month. It's shaping up to be a busy month of August (and even into September). One of S's really good friends (A of the infamous Routeburn Trail trip -- still one of my favorite, and surely one of S's least favorite, anecdotes) is getting married tomorrow. In fact, S is at the rehearsal dinner right now. It's funny, when I'm watching the little man, S will often try to persuade me to do the things with him that she would do, even though I have no interest in doing them. For example, she wanted me to take him to a music festival tonight that sounded like way more hassle than payoff. And on Saturday morning (my weekend morning with him) she always wants me to go to the farmer's market. But I don't like markets, farmer or otherwise.
"He loves it, though," S argues.
"Well," I counter, "he also loves pouring water down his pants, and we can do that in our backyard."
I mean, c'mon, who's the one who really loves it?
[Random Routeburn shot]
Tomorrow our friend RB is coming over to watch him during the wedding, which might be interesting, but hopefully won't be. Interesting is bad when it comes to babysitting a toddler. It will be the first time a non-family member will have to put him to bed. Intuitively, it seems like it should go badly, but I'm guessing that it won't. My rationale is explained in the following. I've learned from talking to Lil' S's teachers at daycare (through S, of course, I generally just say hi and bye to them) that he acts differently around us than he does around them. He's much fussier around us, and in particular, he's much, much fussier around S. Why? Because S will indulge it. She, admittedly, will cave. (It's at the point where I have to get him every time he wakes up because if S gets him, he won't go back to sleep without huge production of milk and pacifiers and hugs and cuddles.) The people at daycare don't indulge his crankiness (I try not to, but I cave sometimes too), and so he doesn't do it with them. My hope is that he'll treat RB like he does his daycare teachers and more or less just be a good kid. Plus, he knows RB well, and likes her, so I think the "freak-out factor" is pretty low. I think it will be fine. We shall see.
My back is also feeling a little better this week. I got some anti-inflammatories that I think are helping. I was suppose to review the MRI results with a specialist on Thursday, but they canceled the appointment because the doctor I was supposed to see quit the practice. Not only that, but they don't have another doctor on staff who does what he does, so I had to find an entirely new clinic. At first I was incredibly annoyed (How unprofessional is it to quit while you have patients scheduled with no contingency plan for them?), but I found a place close to my work, and I wasn't that impressed with the other clinic anyway. So ... whatever.
[And another one]
In other news, the Seahawks played their first preseason game last night against the Denver Broncos. Don't worry, I'm not going to blather on about the Seahawks; I have a whole other blog for that, and I hate preseason football, anyway. I'm bringing up the Seahawks strictly as a segue to talk about an underrated aspect of being a sports nerd that doesn't have much to do with sports. As you get older, which I am doing, sports associations become a great way to mark time. For example, I know my oldest nephew was born in 2005 because that was the year the Seahawks made it to the Super Bowl (the first time), and I remember watching games from that season while holding him as a newborn. Also, I know I went to summer camp in 1989 because I remember talking about Mike Tyson's fight against Carl Williams with the other kids. And I know we took a family vacation to Ohio in 1988 because I remember reading about the Reds' hot rookie Chris Sabo at my grandparents' house. I could go on and on and on. My batting average (pardon the pun) of knowing when life events occurred is very high because I associate them with the sporting news of the day, and sports happen in fixed, easy-to-remember seasons, and even if you forget a year, you can look it up in a second.
I was thinking of this today because I was thinking of my ninth grade dance for some unknown random reason. I took a girl named J who was only in our school district for half a year. (Because she came late, her picture was at the end of the yearbook with, as it so happened, all the special ed students. So my friend JY's favorite joke was to point to the picture next to hers, an obviously "challenged" young man, and proclaim, "This was DG's date to the ninth grade dance". Not a very sensitive joke in retrospect.) On the night of the dance I went over to her house and hung out with her kinda charming, kinda dickheaded dad while she finished getting ready. He was watching baseball and drinking beer. I remember he had a half-empty six-pack sitting on the table next to him, which is a good tipoff he probably had a drinking problem. When you don't even bother to refrigerate your beers because you will be drinking them so quickly -- that's a bad sign.
Anyway, I remember him getting really excited because Dave Valle drove in a run. Based on this information I decided to try to figure out the exact game we were watching. And I believe I did. It was actually really easy to figure out. I knew the year (1993), the approximate month (May or June, since it was at the end of the school year), the approximate day of week (Friday, maybe Saturday, but very likely Friday), and the approximate time (5:00 pm, we ate dinner at a Mexican restaurant beforehand, so it had to be on the early side). From there, I looked at Dave Valle's game logs and found just one candidate (click here if your inner baseball nerd is making you curious). It was Friday June 4, 1993. The game was in Baltimore which means it was a 4:30 West Coast start time, and Dave Valle delivered an RBI single in the 4th inning, which would have been right around 5:30. It all fits perfectly. This has to be the game. It looks like a tough one for the Mariners too, as they blew a two-run lead in the ninth before losing in the tenth.
Usually I would've been home watching the Mariners, but on that night, I had better things to do -- by which I mean, I went to a junior high dance with a girl who actually seemed to like me (a rarity in those days), and then I chickened out when it came time for a good night kiss, and then I never saw her again. But hey, we will always have Moctezuma's and Vanessa Williams.
Until next time ...
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