Reanie's playlist

A few weeks ago, Reanie spent some time going through my iTunes with me. Noah has his own play list, so she wanted to get her own. This is the list she ended up sorting out:

Take on Me-- a-ha
Roam-- B-52's
Good Day Sunshine-- The Beatles
Beautiful-- Christina Aguilera
Bubbly-- Colbie Caillat
Big Girls Don't Cry-- Fergie
I Ran-- A Flock of Seagulls
Over My Head-- The Fray
Daughters-- John Mayer
Don't Stop Believin'-- Journey
Behind These Hazel Eyes-- Kelly Clarkson
Our House-- Madness
Safety Dance-- Men Without Hats
Desitantion Unknown-- Missing Persons
I Melt With You-- Modern English
Always Something There to Remind Me-- Naked Eyes
Unwritten-- Natasha Bedingfield
Sister Christian-- Night Ranger
I'm Gonna Be-- The Proclaimers
Pretty in Pink-- The Psychedelic Furs

We have about 1500 songs on iTunes, and while we certainly didn't go through all of them, it was clear that Reanie has an affinity for 80's music. My guess is the easy to learn lyrics and danceability is what appeals. Some of my Reanie highlights as a parent are watching her dance and sing to these songs. A few of these I added if for no other reason that I like them for her, but when the CD is playing in the car, as each and every song starts playing she says, "This is my favorite!"

I remember playing my Mom's 8-track tapes of The Eagles and Boston, but those were albums that were out after I'd been born, whereas this stuff is more like me listening to music from the 50's. Pat (my step-Mother) had some albums I'd spin when there. I played Wild Thing-- The Troggs and Papa-oo-mow-mow (can't think of the actual name)-- The Beach Boys, and others like those over and over again. The Doors and Jimi Hendrix, while I'm sure made quality music, it is like art I just don't get. I can hear it, and I know that many think it is great and appreciate it deeply, but it is lost on me. That isn't to say that much of the 80's music is good in the sense that the musicianship or lyrics are that artful, but I like it. So does Reanie. I also like the chicken fried steak sandwich at Sonic.

But when thinking about comfort songs we all have, it occurs to me that I have a great deal on my iTunes that guys my age might not want to admit to owning. And while there is plenty of recent music that gets me to enjoying the amp and bass in the Jeep, it's the 80's stuff that I'll seek out when nobody is looking.

Then again, when I know Reanie will sing along full blast with what is playing, it's like getting a corner piece of birthday cake with all that extra frosting.

Why I haven't downgraded

A good friend of ours has two kids. The boy, tired of his game which he had mastered, asked his sister if he could play her game. She said, "no." A negotiation ensued. The final deal was that he would allow her to kick him in the nuts, twice, if she allowed him to play her game. With a deal struck, so were his nuts, and he got to play the game.

I'd rather get kicked in the nuts and play the p,1,2s. And if my nuts just can't take it one weekend, I'll race 35+ until I'm ready for my next kicking.

Wind vs Willow Tree vs Swingset

We're having wicked wind today. 45+mph gusts.
Bummer for the swingset. Good news for firewood.

I didn't like that tree much anyway.

You're welcome. I think.

One of my kids: Daddy, come here, please.
Me: Where are you?
One of my kids: In the bathroom.
Me: Ok. Just a second.

a few seconds pass and I make my way to the bathroom

Me: Yes? Oh. Did you go big job?
One of my kids: Yes
Me: (checking the toilet) I bet you feel better.
One of my kids: I do
Me: That was big.
One of my kids: Thank you

maybe we meant more spa than Sparta

so we rode. water up to our pedals in most parts. higher in others. the wind picked up. visibility was suck. But we didn't turn around until it started hailing on us. Not very Spartan of us, but we did eat some pink, heart-shaped cookies and had a latte while we tried to warm up enough to ride back home.

Did the Spartans wear long sleeve rain jeckets?

Some of my teamnuts came out to southern California for a January training camp last year. They picked this area because of the mild weather, the mountains for climbing, the beauty and offerings of things to do for their significant others. Adding to their confidence was that several pro teams base their training camps out of Santa Barbara at this time of year as well.

During their camp last year, they caught several days of rain. Being southern California, they figured it was just a spell of bad luck that they had that weather.

The talk of the fun they had and the great riding in spite of the rain motivated a return trip this year, and in all of that I was given the green light to attend as well.

So here we are in Santa Barbara.

On Monday, it was 36deg at the top of Gibralter, which is where we were and nobody was all that fired up to descend, but at the same time, we were freezing and shivering uncontrollably. Getting colder was really the best option. It started raining that afternoon.

On Tuesday we nutted up and went out in the rain. If you go all the way to somewhere else for a training camp, bagging out on riding is a sin and you go to hell. That's what our leaders were saying anyway. We got muddy and wet and knocked out some miles anyway. It was...fun.

It continued to rain. It is raining now. We're looking out the window as I type and the general mood is that we are all sissies but are going out anyway. Spartan. Except the Spartans didn't have the sissy talk. Then again, the Spartans didn't have to put on leg warmers that are still wet from the day before.

Quote of the Day

Some jackholes who, though we were all, including the cars, moving less than 10mph, were offended that we were on the road.

After some stupid stuff they did in their car and stupider stuff they said, one of us says, "Why don't you get out of the car?"

One of the punks says, "Why don't you get in the car?"

Anyway, a few blocks later they are pulled over by the police.

I think we have a handle on it now

yesterday blogged about being graded as a parent and put in there that Mama is currently a full time chicken and Buddy rancher. I assure you that no chickens were harmed in filming this video.

Report card

It isn't too often we get a parenting report card. Recently, though, we've (Chloe and I) been thinking about how we score. What with Chloe now being a full time chicken and Buddy rancher, we've been reminded just how easy it is to miss parenting "assigments", especially when everything else seems relatively ok.

But being a parent isn't something where making just a passing grade is good enough. But trying to ace the exam isn't much of a reality either.

This morning, when dropping Reanie off for school, a car pulled up behind ours and dropped off a little girl. I've seen Reanie walk with this little girl to school several times. today, though, this little girl came right up to Reanie and they gave each other a hug. That's never happened before.

I asked Reanie who this was, and Reanie said, "She's my friend."
So I asked what her friend's name is, and she said, "I don't know."

By now they are walking a step ahead of me towards the cross walk, and they are holding hands.

Grabbing Reanie's other hand, we walk the spot where Reanie and I usually stop, kiss, say "Have a great day" and so forth. During this walk, I ask Reanie's friend what her name is, and she says what I think is "Lamtasha". So I say, "Lamtasha?" and she replies, "No, Tamarasa."
"Tamarasa?"
"No, Tamasha."
"Tamasha?"

And she laughed at me.

I asked her what grade she's in (she's a head taller than Reanie), and she said, "Kindergarten!" She said it with more exclamation points, but I refuse to do that, and instead, spend 21 words saying she did.

At that point, Reanie and I kissed, I said "y'all have a great day", and at that moment they skipped, together, holding hands, backpacks bouncing away.

Today, if I were grading myself, I'm getting an "A".

Friday afternoon

I thought I got them all Tom Sawyered there for a moment.


It sounds like a train from my office

of brains and snot

the running joke, especially with two prime snot makers in our household, is that when someone sneezes and rains snot, we say that their brains came out to ask if they need a tissue.

While running errands last night, Reanie sneezed. I asked her if her brains came out. She said, "No (laughing), but my pants came unbuttoned."

If for no other reason...

...than for me to get Reanie to say she works at the Chicken Ranch.

I'm better at being a jackass than you.

Where Reanie goes to school is in a neighborhood where it is customary for parents to drive their kids to school for the .5 to 1 mile walk it may be. I'm not judging them at all, as I'll take our scooter the .5 mile to the bus stop to pick up Noah so he doesn't have to drag his drum kit all the way home.

Anyway, in the mornings, it is an absolute whipping to get Reanie to school, as she does have to be driven to school because we can't leave her at the bus stop in the mornings while getting Buddy to school (no buses for him), and because Noah doesn't always ride the bus from here, so he can't wait with her.

As I said, anyway...

So I'm in the daily traffic jam in front of Reanie's school. I never wait in the car line to drop her off at the door, as doing so would make Buddy late for school, and because I'll eat my brain by just sitting there waiting to move 5 feet, whereas I'm ok being 5 min late if it means we kept moving. So I usually go into a nearby cul-de-sac, park the car, walk Reanie 100yard or so to the crosswalk in front of the school, where a teacher works that crosswalk, and from there Reanie can get to the school and to class by herself.

Today there was even more congestion than usual, and we sat parked in traffic for 5 minutes, just a couple car lengths from the crosswalk. Thinking I'd help get Reanie to school on time, I told her she could go ahead and get out and walk in the grass to the crosswalk instead of waiting until we went all the way around to our normal parking spot. I thought I was helping move things along since we were stopped anyway.

In getting out of the car, she fell (in the grass). No big deal, but as I said, we'd been sitting there in traffic for 5 minutes. Of course, that's when traffic ahead of me started moving. With Reanie on the ground and her backpack under the car, the car behind me lays into the horn. Not the "beep beep, traffic is moving again" honk, but the "@%$&! YOU are the cause of everything bad and are probably a terrorist" honk.

And when I got out to help her, the car behind me decided that there would be no break in the honking, so they just laid into it with a middle finger extended out the window and a HHHOOOOOOOOOONNNNNKK. Good morning.

I gathered Reanie and helped her get composed, and she went on up to the teacher at the crosswalk. At my car door, I looked back to the lady behind me and was going to give some "I'm sorry" gesture. She rolled up her window (middle finger was out the window), started honking again, and her two kids got out of the car and walked to the crosswalk, while I just stood there looking dumber than normal.

I couldn't even think of something clever to say, though she appeared to be swearing up a storm. So I opened my door...

...then decided to tie my shoe before getting in the car.

A conversation that will happen in the next couple of days...

someone: Noah, you are walking funny and have a knot on the back of your head. What happened?

Noah: Well, we were tailgating and eating breakfast in the parking lot at the Cotton Bowl when my Step-Dad and Dad started tossing the football. I wanted to get in on that and walked up to Scott. It was really cold, so I had my gloves on and my hands in my pockets and a hat and my jacket hood on my head, so I couldn't see very well. As my Dad passed me the ball, I couldn't get my hands out of my pockets, so I started backing up, not wanting to get hit by the ball, even though I was dressed in something like one of those party Sumo suits. I backed up several steps, lost my balance, fell backwards in the parking lot and hit my head on the bumper of a truck, setting off the alarm. The Missouri and Arkansas fans seemed about as equally concerned, but they were tailgating too, so other important things were happening at the time. Scott, Papaw (Noah's Grandfather on his Mother's side) and my Dad laughed. The owner of the truck made sure his doors were locked with his remote.

(Dad enters the room, faces Noah)
Dad: Please don't tell that story anymore.

No naps at our house, ever

It used to be so quiet out in the country.






I love Reanie's expression at ~11s in after hitting the cymbal.

I'll never be a good football coach

For whatever reason, and something I haven't thought about in years, I remember one of my football coaches from high school telling a teammate that he should wear ankle weights all day on game days because it would make his legs feel lighter (thus faster) during the game.

I asked, "Wouldn't it be better to wear them every day, all day, except game day?"

The coach poked me in the forehead with his index finger and said, "that's why I'm the coach and you aren't."

Reanie this morning

I'm down with the crud for the last several days, and it seems to be lingering longer than it should. Reanie decided enough was enough this morning. She told me to breathe on her so my sick would go into her. She said, "It's ok, because if I get sick I can go to the nurse at school and she'll make me better."

The Reanie Channel

This just might be the day I look forward to most each year--our date to go see The Nutcracker.
Traffic getting there was horrendous. So much so that we didn't have time to eat dinner. I spotted a chocolate shop near the Bass Performance Hall and told Reanie "We get to eat chocolate for dinner today!" She scrunched up her face and said, "Daddy, chocolate isn't healthy. Let's eat somewhere else."

I made her eat that chocolate, because it is Christmas dammit.

The people we shared our box seats with weren't so great. The performance itself was a little off, and our seats were wonderful if you enjoy seeing only half of the stage because you are seated behind a column, and...

...and it was still a great night out with my daughter.



Yesterday we went to the mall to visit Santa. I'm not sure when things changed, but you no longer wait in line to tell Santa what you want for Christmas. Nope. Now you wait in line to have your picture taken with Santa, and that'll be $25, thank you. Good thing Santa gave a $26 smile, otherwise my Christmas spirit would have taken a bruise.

Buddy said...

Mama, the POSSx2 and Jordan drove up to Oklahoma to pick up me and Noah. We're all keeping an eye out for a restaurant, but Buddy needs something to eat muy pronto. Mama has some cashews and hands him a handful.

Moments later Buddy says, "My nuts are dropping!"

Well, we got a chuckle out of it anyway.

No Donut Rides So Far

I've got a date with Reanie in just a bit. Pulled out the tux earlier today, and Mama made me try it on despite me saying something along the lines of "Why? It was tailored to fit ME."

She just finished taking in the waist. The pants were almost 3" too big.