Is This Right?

I didn't do too much babysitting while I was younger, but when I did, I would occasionally eat a little food without being invited to do so. However, I had two rules that prevented me from getting caught.

First, I never was the first person to open a new package.

Second, I would never be the one to finish something off.

I always kinda assumed that was a universal truth of babysitting.

Now I'm the one paying the babysitter. Not wanting to be a hypocrite, I was prepared for some missing food.

However, I kinda thought these rules didn't need to be stated.

Back in October, I went to make a little treat out of some Count Chocula cereal. I bought the box just to make the treat. When I went to open the box, I noticed it's half empty.



"Elisha, you know I needed the Count Chocula for the treat."

"I don't eat chocolate for breakfast. I didn't touch your cereal."

Half the box gone, never opened by either of us.

We've bought some ice cream on occasion.

"Wow, Elisha you've sure eaten a lot of this ice cream already."

"I haven't even opened it yet."

Two flavors not opened by us.

We've learned to live with this. But now I think the babysitter's crossed a line.

I made a train at our annual gingerbread house making party. Elisha likes to eat the creations from the party, so when I noticed part of my train missing, I didn't think too much of it. Later Elisha says:

"I can't eat your train, it's too cute."

"That didn't stop you from eating the cookies off the front end."

"I didn't eat anything."

Seriously, is this right?

Before picture. The train in all it's glory:

After picture, missing a little up front:

I Wanna Win!

So Lowe is doing a giveaway and I really want to win it. For those of you who don't know, Lowe is a really famous blogger who is going to be on the Ellen Show someday.

She's giving away a baby wrap carrier thing. I have a baby, but I want to win it as a gift for my sister-in-law. Lowe has like a million babies, and she says this is the best baby wrap carrier thing ever. Check 'em out. They're made by Sasha's Inspirations.

What I Learned in Georgia

We went to Georgia over the weekend so Harrison could meet his Uncle Shea. We had a good time, and in the process I learned a few things:

The people in Georgia were very nice. I don't know why this surprised me. I think it's because they were more than normal nice. Every gesture got a "thank you," every "thank you" received a "you're welcome." Although, Shea did point out that the baby brings out the best in people.

When you order seafood while looking at the sea, it may not be less expensive but you certainly get more. I didn't take pictures, but I ordered a seafood pot pie. Delicious, and teeming with seafood.

It's easier to fall asleep in the backseat of one of these:


Than it is to fall asleep in one of these:

But just slightly.

(I could claim that this is the official team jet and we saw the team at the airport. However, eventually someone would point out that the Colts played New England that weekend, which is nowhere near Georgia. I guess it's just a really big advertisement.)


And now that he has visited both sides of the country, I can officially declare Harrison to be the cutest baby in all the land.

Schoolwork

It's been awhile since I've updated. Mainly that's because I've actually been a good student and focused on homework instead of blogging.

Now, I don't want to do homework, so I'm updating my blog.

Sorry, no pictures this blog. Just words. I have a writing class this semester, and I've really enjoyed some of my own work. So I'm posting it in my blog.

This is a satire I had to write for class. If this one offends you, then good, you need to be offended. The people being mocked in this are horrible parents. Sorry.

Happy reading. (I have a much more controversial one, but I'm only going to post one at a time. In case people get angry with me.)

College the Second Time Around

Ronald J. Daniels, President

Johns Hopkins University

Baltimore Maryland

Mr. Daniels,

I am writing to ask for an extension of the recently passed deadline for application to your medical school. Unfortunately many things have happened of late, and my son was unable to complete the application process in time. Dudley has been very busy with all of the things that college students are expected to do, and I never received a letter from your school warning me that the deadline was near.

College is so much more difficult now than it was back when we were kids. Back in my day, I spent so much time worrying about grades and schedules that I never had time for any fun. Fortunately, my boy, Dudley, is a much better student than I ever was. Somehow he always finds a way to be responsible and have fun, too. He seems to know exactly how to get things taken care of.

In fact, I just recently returned from campus because a teacher tried to give my dear sweet Dudley a bad grade. Can you believe that? The nerve of his teacher. Naturally I did the only thing any responsible parent would do. I went directly to the college president. He tried to convince me that the teacher and Dudley should decide what how to resolve the situation. What kind of school is this anyway? How do they expect my sweet little boy to do all that homework when he has a job and everything? They didn’t even send a note home to me. I can’t believe they expect Dudley to do well when they don’t even keep me up to date on his assignments. To make matters worse, he got a parking ticket that very same week.

How can they expect Dudley to read all those silly signs posted all over the parking lot? He knows he needs to concentrate on his driving, especially since the police tried to blame him for that accident just because he was texting. Of course, this meant another trip to campus for me. Dudley ’s not going to pay 20 dollars for something that couldn’t possibly be his fault. Besides, he doesn’t have the money, not since all those friends came to his dorm and asked him to spend the money I gave him for food on that silly party. Luckily, the Dean of Students and I have gotten to be such close friends, he convinced those awful ladies at the cashiers office that Dudley shouldn’t have to pay for the ticket now that he was going to buy a parking pass. Do you know how expensive those things are?

College isn’t cheap. That’s why I told Dudley it was time for him to get a job. I can’t do everything for him, you know? I went with him to every interview. It took some time for us to find the right place for Dudley, but after getting to know the store director, Dudley was hired at a local grocery store. Imagine my surprise when I went to have a visit with the store director about Dudley’s promotion and he told me Dudley was to be fired. He had only missed work once, and that was because he was going to the homecoming dance and they didn’t give him the night off. If they wanted him to work, they should have asked him if he had plans.

Apparently Dudley was outside gathering the shopping carts when he spotted some friends at the convenience store next door. Of course he has to go say hello, after all he’s very popular, and besides he was getting quite hungry. Well, his manager must have been spying on him, because he showed up out of nowhere and got mad at Dudley for taking a small little break. He tried to fire him on the spot. Luckily I was already on my way to the store.

Don’t worry the store director and I just finished talking to Dudley ’s manager. He understands Dudley a little better now, so we shouldn’t have any more of these problems. I was also able to get that unreasonable teacher to find a way for Dudley to get the grade he deserves. As you can see, I’ve been really busy lately. It seems a little silly for me to have to do all this work, but, as you know, they expect college students to work really hard these days. So if you could please accept Dudley ’s application, I’m sure you will find that we are the perfect fit for your program.

Thank you,

Mrs. Bumpkins

P.S. Since it is obvious that we will be seeing a lot of each other, could you please send me a letter when houses become available for purchase in your area? Of course, Dudley will be living on campus, but I just couldn’t handle being so far away, where he wouldn’t be able to help take care of me.

The White Trash Derby!

Disclaimer: I may make fun of white trash, but I wouldn't do it if I didn't speak from the voice of experience. I do not mean to offend anyone with this post. I have actually lived in a trailer people, I know what I'm talking about. Although, I'm not from the South, so I guess I'm not an expert.

As a part of my birthday, Elisha and I embraced our inner white trash and went to the demolition derby at the county fair. It's a lot harder embracing this hidden aspect of our personalities now that we have a child. Although, I guess if we really wanted to, we could have taken our 3 month old with us. He wouldn't have been the youngest member of the audience.

Don't get me wrong, I love the derby. There aren't too many things better than watching a whole bunch of guys intentionally wreck cars just to win a couple hundred dollars.

But sometimes the better parts of the show are the other members of the crowd. Elisha and I were treated to a little extra this year as some faithful fans were escorted away from the stadium. You see, they started a wristband system this year, and apparently, it doesn't work to slice your wristband down the middle to make two.


To add to the event this year, I had the opportunity to try my very first deep-fried Twinkie. Awesome! I loved it. Although, it was so rich, I almost fell into a sugar coma on the spot. Next time I'm going for the deep-fried P, B & J.

I'm Old Enough to Drive...Twice!

Thanks to everyone for my birthday wishes. I had a wonderful birthday, and as has become tradition with me, I've managed to spread it across multiple days.

The fun things we've done for my birthday:

• Going out to dinner with friends.
• A movie date, just us.
• Going to another friends for dinner and games.
• A baseball game.
• The demolition derby!

The bad part about my birthday was the realization of my age. I really don't feel old, and I'm cool with my age. In fact, I feel younger than I am because everybody I know that is my age has kids in school, and the people we know who are just starting their families are in their early twenties, so I feel like I'm closer in age to the second group.

Back to feeling bad: Two days before my birthday the nice girl at the bank reminded me that my license was about to expire. I could have just renewed by mail, but I wanted a new picture because I'm 75 lbs. lighter and generally in a better mood. (Refer to the before and afters.)

When I get to the driver's license place, I'm doing the paper work, and I realize that I'm twice as old as I was the first time I did this! I am actually old enough that I could have been born when I got my license and I would be able to get it again.

Other than this, not a bad birthday.

Some gifts:

• The Bourne trilogy.
• A gorilla pod. (From Harrison.)
• The board game Curses.
  
• Very nice photo collages of me and my baby.
• A wonderful scrapbook that Elisha put together after finding old high school photos. It's beautiful, and I know she worked so hard on it.

Again, thanks to everyone.

I'm a Birthday Beggar

It's true! I absolutely love my birthday. I don't care how old I get, as long as I get more birthdays. Because I love my birthday so much, I make sure everybody knows that my birthday is coming. However, once the big day hits, I always like to see who actually remembers, so I don't say anything on the actual day.

Guess what? My birthday is coming up. This Saturday, August 8th. I'm so excited. We haven't made any real plans yet, but they're coming soon.

Since my birthday hasn't happened yet this year, and I want something to blog about, I will blog about my last birthday.

I don't know if you've noticed, but my birthday happens to be on the best day of the year. Well, I think so, but that's because my favorite number is 8. So last year, not only was my birthday on the 8th day of the 8th month, it was also in the 8th year. Awesome!


So in honor of the number, we let 8's rule the day. First, we decided to go out to eat, so to choose the restaurant, I looked in the phone book for the restaurant with the most 8's in the phone number. (No fast food or delivery, otherwise it would have been Domino's.) There was a 5 way tie, but Winger's beat them out because they also had two 8's in the address.


Before dinner I went to Target and bought a Magic 8 Ball. I had to choose between a High School Musical one, or a Hannah Montana one. Apparently, Disney has a monopoly on the Magic 8 Ball industry. You probably guessed that I chose High School Musical, but I went with Hannah instead.


The rest of the day the 8 ball made all my decisions for me. We didn't have a lot of friends available to get together with us, but my 9 year-old cousin, John, was spending the weekend with us, so that influenced our decisions. First I asked the 8 ball if we should go play mini-golf. It said:

I've got nerve & I say no
(You may need to click on the pictures to read them better.)

So mini-golf was out. Next I asked if we should do the bumper boats. Same answer. John was getting pretty sad. Finally when I asked about laser tag, we got the answer we were looking for:

As I see it, Yes

After we were done, John convinced me to ask it again about the boats. The 8 ball said yes to everything else we asked that day. So I guess we really didn't leave things to chance, we just let it decide the order of events.

I guess I'm one of "Those" people

I can't believe, less than two months have passed, and I've already become one of "those" people.

What people, you ask?

The kind of person who takes a baby to a movie!

There's no need to curse me, I've already done that myself.

Seriously, who takes an infant to a movie?

Okay, I apologize if you have done such a thing. Don't be offended, because now I'm one of you.

Let me explain:

When Elisha and I moved to St. George, we assumed that there were no babysitters in the whole community. We saw babies everywhere, and as newlyweds, of course the first thing that came to mind was: "Why don't these people get a babysitter?"

We saw babies at movies, no matter the time of day. We saw babies at live productions, even though the program said no children under 7. We even saw a baby and a toddler at a live production of Sweeney Todd. I had nightmares after that one, I can only imagine the poor children!

Don't get me wrong. Elisha loves babies, and I love, well, Harrison. So, we don't mind seeing them. There are just certain times that babies should be left home, and watching a play wherein people have their throats cut every five minutes is one of those times.

So, with such strong feelings, how did I become one of "those" people?

Well, I have a baby, and I wanted to go see a movie. It's really that simple.

Elisha was planning to go to SLC without me for the weekend, and we decided it would be nice to go out and have fun before she left. So we packed up the baby, went to Shroomies* for an awesome burger, and then we went to see The Proposal. We went to the five o'clock show, on a Wednesday, hoping the audience would be small. Especially since the movie has been out for awhile.

Overall, it was a successful operation. We only had to take him out into the hall once, and it wasn't because he was making too much noise, he just needed to be changed. We fed him, and he didn't even offer his usual protest screams when we burped him. Although, he did burp loud enough for the whole theatre to hear. He wasn't absolutely silent the whole time, but I figured his quick little squeaks weren't any worse than the cell phone that rang-multiple times!

I'm not sure we'll take him back anytime soon. We both decided it would be easier just to plan ahead and find a babysitter, but if we do we have some rules:

• No movies after 6.
• No action or really loud movies.
• No Saturday movies.

That way I still can feel like I'm not exactly one of "those" people.

*Some people feel like restaurants are another place where small children shouldn't be seen. This depends on the restaurant. If you have to dress up, and then get financing to cover the cost, then maybe you should leave the kid at home. Otherwise, I've actually always thought it is really cute when the kid at the next table pokes his head over just to say "Hi."

The Power of Language

This post comes with a potpourri of inspiration. I guess the main flashback idea comes from Jessica. However, the reason and content is a combination of my own recent post on our other blog, and a bit of annoyance for Kathy.

One of Kathy's pet peeves, and one for most English majors, is the misconception that we are all absolutely perfect spellers and grammarians. I am nowhere near perfect. Especially in grammar. I am a very good speller, but, really I'm just picky, so I make sure to spell check everything.

There are all kinds of English majors out there. Unfortunately that includes the really annoying ones that like to fix your grammar all the time. But there are also people like Kathy and I, people who like to read and to write, people who understand the power of language.

So today I would like to share a memory with you from around the time I was 19 or 20. A flashback you could say. One that involves part of Harrison's name (you knew I'd bring it back).

A long time ago, long before I had a desire to be an English teacher or even to attend college, I decided I really liked the name August, and that I wanted to use it for my child some day.

I shared this information with a friend of my mother's who had a newborn son named Joey. (Not Joseph or Joe, but Joey) When she heard that I wanted to name my son August, she scoffed:

"August? What kind of name is that? That's ridiculous."

I was devastated. I thought it was the coolest name ever, and here this woman was mocking me.

So how did I respond? Did I correct her grammar? No. That's not what people who understand the power of language do.

I grabbed a dictionary.

I asked her, "So, you think August is a silly name?"

"The word August means 'marked by majestic dignity or grandeur.' That doesn't seem silly at all."

I continued, "Do you know what Joey means? A joey is a baby kangaroo."


"Who do you think is cooler? One who has been marked by majestic grandeur or a baby kangaroo?"

She didn't talk to me for awhile after that.

Language is power, and that is why I'm an English major.

I was Robbed!

Elisha, Harrison, and I just returned from another trip to Salt Lake. This was the trip that included attending Good Things Utah.

Elisha and I left Harrison with my mom and headed for the studio. We were (I was) pretty excited. (She tolerates my weird obsession.) While we waited we picked up my free DVD copy of Princess Protection Program.

When we were seated the first thing either of us noticed was how small the set is. The big table that they sit at rolls across the stage to allow room for the other set-ups.

Right before the show begins an intern informs us that after the show we will have the opportunity to take photos with the girls. "Oh, wait, I guess it's just Angie today."

What!

Angie?

Angie's nice enough, but no Reagan? No Marti? I already knew Nicea wouldn't be there.

Just Angie?

Reagan (left) and Nicea (right) are the reasons I started watching the show in the first place!

Additionally, Elisha and I both were pretty sad that they didn't share the food from the cooking segment with the audience. There was more than enough food.

It took awhile but I finally got over my disappointment, and once I did we had a really good time.

The audience was really small which guaranteed our appearance on T.V. We were both seen at the first break for commercial when they pan across the audience. I was also featured at the end when they wish a happy birthday to members in the audience. I was sitting in front of one and behind the other.

After the show was over we went to have our picture taken with the hosts. (Barb Smith and some guy who hosts Homes Today were guest hosts.)


Angie is actually very nice. She interacts really well with the audience. I was also pleased when she noted that I was the "token male" in the audience. That means she noticed me!

Even though, I was sad that our favorites weren't there. I'm also kinda happy, because now I have a reason to convince Elisha to go with me again.

I'm a Winner!

I won, I won! I am so excited. I actually won something. I never win anything. Especially something cool like the double dose of love on the nines contest. Occasionally, if it requires actual effort I can win something like a board game or a basketball game (only if I'm on the good team). But I finally won something without putting in any real effort.

No, I wasn't lucky enough to win the previously mentioned contest, but I did win a random drawing from the folks at Good Things Utah!

Yes, I love Good Things Utah! Look for me in the audience Friday morning, July 10th!

It was so nice to win something. Really, I hardly had to do anything at all. I was already registered on their website, so all I had to do was click on the button underneath the contest name that said "sign up." That easy.

I was just talking on the phone and checking my e-mail when I noticed an e-mail that said, "You're a winner." What a great way to begin the day.

So, what did I win? Who cares. I won!

Really, I am now the proud owner of a copy of the Disney Channel original movie, "Princess Protection Program"!

How sad is it that I immediately blog about this, yet I have not mentioned the fact that I won the Student of the Semester award at school?

The Death of a Cheerleader

I'm very sad to announce that my cheerleading career has come to an untimely end. Ultimately, it came down to choosing between this:



and this:

Obviously, a no brainer.

The decision was made for two reasons.

First, time. Who knew I would want to spend every second I have with my beautiful son? In addition to missing Harrison time, if Elisha goes back to work in the fall, it would be at the same time as cheer practice. Obviously, this would mean we need a babysitter five days a week.

That brings me to the second reason: Money. Extra money would have to be spent for daytime child care. Additionally, the cheer program costs money. Yes, there is a sponsorship program, but in the long run, that costs money, too. If I found people to sponsor me, the money would be put on my account at the school. If there is money on my account on the school, the government would find out about it. First, whatever part of the government that issues grant money would discover it and decide I don't need grant money because of all this money on my account, second the IRS would be curious about the money. It wouldn't count as income, but it does take away education credits, which are very nice.

I guess if you're a teenage kid you don't care about such things. So, it turns out I really am too old to be a cheerleader.

I Think My Son Killed Michael Jackson

Or at least he is partly responsible. The way I figure it, the world just isn't a big enough place for both this guy:

Mr. Michael Joseph Jackson

And this guy:

Mr. Harrison August Jones.

That may not seem like reason enough for Harrison to have caused Michael's death. But I also have to consider my own sordid past. For I am just as guilty for the death of this man:

That's right, the King of Rock and Roll, Mr. Elvis Presley himself.

Consider the facts:

Elvis Presley was revolutionary to the entire music industry. His music brought together multiple genres and diverse people. He was a man whose own persona became bigger than he was within his own life. He died at a young age. He is the King of Rock and Roll.

Michael Jackson was also revolutionary to the entire music industry. His music spanned many genres and united many people. He was a man whose reputation became less about his music and more about his crazy life. He also died at a young age. He is the King of Pop.

Eight days after I was born, Elvis died.

One month after Harrison was born, Michael died.

Coincidence? I think not. Apparently there is some genetic mutation that I carry and have passed on to my son that causes the death of music legends.

In 25ish years when Harrison decides to become a dad, I guess whoever has filled Michael's shoes better watch their back.

I Love Being A Dad! But ask me again later.

My baby is barely two weeks old, and so far being a dad is great. Elisha is an amazing mother, and that makes my life with baby perfect.

One thing I could do without, however, is being constantly asked: "So, how do you like being a father?" I don't mind the question so much as I mind the timing. I've only been a father for two weeks, I really don't know what it's like.

It reminds me of coming home from our honeymoon and everyone asking how I like being married. First of all, we all know that when asking a Mormon couple this question there is obviously a "hidden" agenda, wink wink. Secondly, I just got home from my honeymoon, what do you expect me to say: I hate it!

Basically this is what I wanted to tell people: "I just got home from a luxury hotel in Vegas. For the past week I've been eating at buffet's and fancy restaurants, and I've been going to comedy acts and magic shows every night. When we got bored, we took a helicopter flight over the Strip. I love being married, is it going to stay like this forever?"

Why don't people ask me now how I like being married? It's been three years, I might have a objective opinion.

And now, three years later, I get to go through the same type of situation.

Obviously, I love being a dad. I especially love it right now. I haven't cooked in two weeks. We haven't even had to buy our own food. There have been a couple of nights when neither of us have had to wake up for Harrison. As for housework, sure we've maintained it a bit, but I haven't had to do anything really tough for awhile.

What's it like being a father? I love it, is it going to stay like this forever?

Maybe, you should ask me again later.

They're Gone, Now What?!

So far this fatherhood thing has been awesome! Especially since these two ladies were around to make everything okay.

Both grandmas live 4 hours away, but we were lucky enough to have them both come down and help us as we welcomed Harrison to our family.

The grandma on the left is my mom. She got here the Friday before Harrison was born, and stayed until the Saturday after. While we were in the hospital she worked very hard to make sure our house was clean. During her entire stay she made sure we stayed on top of the housework, and helped me to adapt to this new world of parenthood. She was perfectly willing to watch Harrison while Elisha and I took little breaks and went to the store. Her presence here in the first few days was so important. I hope she understands what it meant to all of us.

The grandma on the right is Elisha's mom. She came down the day after Harrison was born. She only stayed a couple of nights, but she returned the Saturday after we came home from the hospital and stayed with us until Wednesday. During this time Elisha and I were able to finally be away from Harrison long enough to go see a movie, so she watched Harrison while Elisha and I went to go see Up. Before she left she made sure we had a week's worth of food in the freezer. Her assistance in these early days will be felt for a long time to come.

Now that they're both gone, Elisha and I are left alone in the house with this brand new baby. I don't know about her, but I'm terrified. Luckily he seems to enjoy my company, and so far I haven't met a diaper I can't handle, although I'm sure I just jinxed myself.

Hopefully the grandmas return soon. The dishes are already starting to pile up, and the freezer is already starting to empty....and Harrison misses them both very much.

Isn't this awesome?

There is an obvious double awesome going on here.

First of all, the kid. Isn't he just amazing? He is so cute, and I love him so much. I am so excited to be a dad, and I'm so lucky that my baby is so wonderful.

Second of all, the shirt! Check it out. This is truly amazing gift-giving. My wonderful friend Kathy read my post about baby names and brought this outfit to us right away. Bonus points: the writing is in orange. If you're taking notes, this is the proper way to be a blog follower.

There is no way to truly thank someone for such a wonderful gift, the best I can do is to make sure that it is prominently featured on my blog.

I've introduced the world to Harrison August through my family blog, but I guess to make things formal: Blog, this is Harrison. Harrison, this is my blog, on which you will be featured often.

I'm a Real Blogger Now

It's official, I am a real-live authentic blogger. I'm not a wannabe anymore. Wanna know how I know? I'll tell you: Last night when I went out with some friends to a movie something annoyed me. The very first thought I had was: This is Sooooo going on my blog!

The story begins a little earlier at lunch. Elisha and I went to Burger King. I ordered a small drink. The drink that I received was the size of a Big Gulp (32 oz), definitely larger than what I wanted. Of course, I don't complain too much. Although I couldn't help thinking that this might be why the country is dealing with an obesity problem. I actually wanted a small drink with lunch, but I got, and drank, a giant massive one.

Last night, I went to a movie with some friends and family. Again I want a drink, and this time since I want it to last a couple of hours, I ordered a medium drink. As I'm paying for the stuff some kid hands me a tiny little cup (I'm guessing 12 oz, but maybe 16), claiming it is my medium drink. What is going on here?

The moral of the story: Fast food places are trying to make you fat. Movie places are trying to help you stay skinny.

Here's the real rant: At the movie I looked at three cup sizes and decided that I wanted the middle size one. I told the girl behind the counter I wanted the medium drink, thinking that the word medium would convey the meaning of "middle size." After the boy handed me the equivalent of the "free water" cup that I just paid 3 bucks for, I looked up at the menu. The sizes listed were medium, large, and extra-large. There wasn't even a small on the menu. In my way of thinking, there can't be a medium if there isn't a small. The medium becomes the small. I'm no language scholar, but I'm pretty sure that the word medium implies "middle" not "smallest." Oh, wait, I am a language scholar, and I'm right.

I understand that the place wanted to name their sizes differently so that they seem different than everyone else, but I don't care. If they want to name their sizes , why don't they name them (Coldstone Creamery is a good example of this, go eat there and find out.). They could call them Bertha, Matilda, and Bob. No one else has those names for their drink sizes. That way when I say "medium" the child behind the counter will be forced to assume I mean the middle one, or clarify, and say "You mean you want a Matilda."

About 2 minutes after I get done complaining about all of this to my brother, my uncle walks up pointing to his bag of popcorn and says that he should have been more clear. "I thought when I said extra-large, I was going to get the bucket."

Albus' First Birthday Party

We still haven't had our baby!!!!! The little bugger refuses to come out. We're actually pretty patient about it, we're just really anxious to see our son.

Many people have given us advice on how to get the labor started. Yeah, thanks for the advice, but there are just some things we are not willing to try, like Castor Oil. Especially not since our doctor admitted it might work, but practically pleaded with us not to do it since it can cause diarrhea. I guess he's had that experience before.

Most of my followers are already mothers, so there is no reason to list all the suggestions we've had, I'm sure you've heard them before. There are only two we are perfectly willing to try, the first, walking, hasn't worked so far. Sometimes she feels some pain by the time we come home, but it goes away as soon as she rests. The second suggestion, the thing that got us here in the first place, hasn't really had any effect either. I think it might have triggered the very first signs of labor a couple of weeks ago, but now it doesn't do anything.

Since nothing really seems to be working I came up with what I thought was a genius plan. I figure the most likely time for a child to be born would also be the most inconvenient. So we decided to have a birthday party for Albus. I figured if we invited 10 or 15 people over, if we had food cooking on the stove, and if we had cupcakes baking in the oven; he would show up and make us scramble to change our plans.

Well the party was a complete failure! It was really quite successful in terms of attendance and fun, but there was no labor, no water breaking, no baby. We played games, and ate food. But sadly the guest of honor was a utter no show. Annoyingly, I completely forgot to take any pictures so we have no record of our son's first birthday party.

Thanks to all those who came. We were really excited to spend time with friends. The party may not have achieved its goal, but it did provide Elisha and I with a last hoorah as children free newlyweds.

Meryl Streep is Messing with My World

Growing up, I wasn't too big on hating things. I'm really not that opinionated of a person, so it was extremely rare for me to feel very passionately about something. However, there were two things that I was passionate about, two things that I knew for sure:

I Hate Meryl Streep!

I Hate Julia Child!

(I hate the concept of these women, not the women themselves)

My brother would occasionally watch Julia Child's show on PBS, and I, being the younger, was forced to deal with it. The woman is insane. And it's not like my brother was cooking me any of the food she was showing. (He did cook for me, but not her stuff.)

I love movies, but as a kid I couldn't stand any movie with Meryl Streep in it. I always believed that the only reason people put her in movies is to try and make women cry. I especially hated that all she had to do was breathe and she would be nominated for an Oscar. People would often say that my mother looked like Meryl Streep, I thought they were insulting my mom.

With Julia I developed a reason for my hatred, but for Meryl, I just hated the idea of her. But somehow, all of that changed with The Devil Wears Prada. I loved that movie, and for the first time in my life I really wanted Meryl to be nominated, and win, an Academy Award. I don't know why, but ever since then I have taken an interest in Meryl's work. This change continued with Mamma Mia!, I really loved that movie, saw it twice in theatres. Don't get me wrong, most of the rest of her work still looks like the same stuff, but it looks worth watching now.

So, you may be asking yourself: "Jason, why are you wasting time posting about the two things you hate most in the world?"

My answer is obvious: "That's what blogs are for."

But really, the reason behind all this:

Meryl Streep is playing Julia Child in a movie!

Worse: It doesn't look like the best movie ever, but I would probably go see it. Nora Ephron is a good romantic comedy director, I really like Amy Adams, and, somehow, I like Meryl Streep. In the preview, it looks like she does an awesome job. She actually makes Julia Child look interesting.

What is wrong with me?

Mother's Day

I'm a lousy husband and son. I should have posted something on Mother's Day, about my wonderful wife, and my awesome mother. I should have taken a small amount of time that day to say that without these women my life wouldn't exist or be worth living; something about how important they are and how wonderful they will be as they welcome their first son and grandson, respectively, into the world.

I should have taken the time on Mother's Day to do something like that, but I decided my time would have been better spent with my wife, and on the phone with my mother instead of at the computer.

As far as how I feel about mothers. I think Elisha said it all via Mr. T.

I did get Elisha flowers and a card though.

Baby Names

Elisha and I are expecting our first child any day now. As such, we are expected to name this child. We are 99% sure of what the name is, but we won't share it until we meet our son, and there is good reason for this, I think. As I said this is our first child so we really don't know if these are good reasons or just the continuation of myths and rumors. The reasons:

• It could change. People say they loved the name they chose, and the second they saw their baby they knew it was wrong. I hope I'm not one of these people, but what if we are? I would hate for you all to go get us embroidered bibs with the name "Albus Dumbledore Jones*" on them just to have us change the name later.
  
• You might steal it! Luckily there is less than two weeks of waiting left, hopefully, but you might tell your sister who tells her neighbor, who names her baby "Albus," and then our child is forever known as the other "Albus." Worse, you might have puppies, and I don't want my child to ask me why your dog shares his name.
• The real reason: You are a lot less likely to say, "What the heck kind of name is 'Albus'?!" when you are actually holding my child in your arms. People seem less likely to be mean when the deed is done. I guess it's kind of like that expression: "It's easier to ask forgiveness, than permission."
• Which leads me to a new point. When told the name, I am not asking you if you like it, I'm telling you the name. This is an easier point to get across when the baby is present.

There is one final reason that I won't tell people the name, but this will continue after he is born, so I will take a moment to tell you my feelings about this particular topic.

• After telling them the name, people always ask: "What are you going to call him?"

I AM GOING TO CALL HIM BY HIS NAME!!!!!!!

Why do you think I am naming him that? I wouldn't name him "Albus Dumbledore Jones" if I didn't plan on calling him "Albus." If I want to call him "Dumby," I will name him "Dumby." This question only makes sense if I am naming him Jason Junior, because, then his name would be very similar to mine, and it would be nice to have something to clear up the confusion.

Now, if you are asking what his nickname would be, I don't know. Nicknames aren't pre-meditated, they are inspired, given because of a circumstance or memory associated with the person being nicknamed. I haven't met "Albus" so I have no circumstances or memories associated with him, with which to nickname him.

A brief side note: It is possible that a nickname can be pre-meditated when it is a shortened version of the original, like the aforementioned "Dumby." Sometimes, people will call me "J" or "Jace." My brother is known as "JJ," the initials for his name-Jeremy John.

One thing that bothers me a bit about this: Shortening something that has already been shortened, or something that is already short. I wanted to create a link to a clip from the movie Yes Man here, but the clip isn't on Youtube already, and I'm not putting it there. The clip goes as follows**:

Carl (Jim Carrey):
Okay, Norm.

Norman:
You called me Norm, that's short for Norman. That's great. Can I call you "Car"

Carl:
Well Carl is pretty short already, but sure.

It's funnier if you actually see it, but it makes my point. There is a small group of people out there who like to call my brother "J." His name, as I've noted, is Jeremy, and we call him JJ as a nickname. How freakin' lazy are you that you can't say JJ? We already took the multi-syllabic Jeremy and made it so much easier. It's the same sound repeated one time, you don't have to take a breath between the sounds, you don't even have to change the position of your mouth, you just made the sound, now do it again, it kinda flows really naturally. Try it: "JJ." It's quite simple really, but some people find this to be too difficult. It drives me nuts.

*Albus Dumbledore is an awesome wizard, but even I would think it to be particularly mean to bestow that name on a child.

**The quoted dialogue is not an exact quote.