'Tis the Season...for "Santastic"?

It's no longer a big surprise. What used to be regarded with great disgust and disdain is now blindly and blandly accepted as the norm, and it is simply this: the Christmas season begins earlier and earlier every year. No sooner are the spooky decorations of Halloween torn down than the festive ones go up. Hell, some retail outlets even seem to mark Labor Day as the beginning of "the Season". Screw Thanksgiving. They can't make any money on Thanksgiving, a holiday in which only Butterball comes out ahead. Retailers feel the need to keep their eyes on the prize, which this year is to rake in as much cash as possible before the looming recession sets in.

Our Christmas season reluctantly sputtered into life on Tuesday night. I was tired from a long day of digging in the dirt and mixing cement when Diane called me from work. "Hi...I umm...signed us up for something here at the mall tonight. I thought it was tomorrow night, but it's tonight. Can you get the girls ready and come in? We can do dinner here and then go." How did she know that that was exactly what I wanted to do after a long day of manual labor beautifying her back yard.

"What is it?" I sighed.

" I...don't...know exactly. I know it involves seeing Santa. It's some new thing that's supposedly sweeping the nation. Ours is only one of three malls in the country that has it."

I laughed. "Three malls is hardly 'sweeping the nation'."

"I know, but it sounds like it could be fun for the girls. Tonight is reserved for employees of the mall and they're giving everyone complimentary photos with Santa. So can you come?"

Did I have a choice? I felt like being a Scrooge, popping open a beer and lounging in front of the TV. But, in the interest of starting off the Holiday Season on the right foot, I conceded. I hobbled out to the family room to give the girls the news. "Hey girls, I'm going to get a quick shower, then we're going to get dressed and GO SEE SANTA!"

Kyra's response was classic. "Santa? It's not even Christmas yet! We haven't even had Thanksgiving!"

I think I startled her with my unexpected burst of laughter. She jumped but then smiled as I held my hand up for a big high-five. Amen, sister. That's my girl.

The prospect of seeing Santa quickly overshadowed any rational thought of Christmas being 45 days away, and we were soon out the door. We met Diane at her store, grabbed a quick bite to eat, and then headed over to the Santa Claus experience that was sweeping the nation.

The village constructed in the mall's center court was called "Santastic". Inside the village was a series of stations or activities that basically kept families busy while waiting in line to get their picture taken with Santa. It's a pretty ingenious concept. In the first station, we were greeted by helpers with radio headsets who invited us to free cookies and milk. They also invited the girls to write a letter to Santa on the "Santastic" stationery.



The next station was a mailbox with a direct link to the North Pole where the girls took turns depositing their letters. As they opened the mailbox, they were met with a gust of wind and a cold blast of snow.



Next was the "Naughty or Nice" meter. Kids pushed the big red button and watched the needle flirt precariously with the "Naughty" side before settling on "Nice".



Obviously, any "Naughty" children didn't have a snowball's chance in hell of sitting on Santa's lap. Needless to say, I didn't get my picture taken with Santa. Oh well, maybe next year. I told Diane that I was a naughty boy in need of punishment, but she just rolled her eyes.



The girls finally made it to the Jolly Ol' Elf, though, with no problem. They took a nice picture and then hit him full on with their Christmas lists. We were then herded over to a computer station where a helper showed us a series of pictures taken at the various stations. This is where they make their money. We reviewed the pictures, but the only one we really wanted was one with Santa and the girls. The helper looked slightly disgusted as we told her we only wanted the complimentary photo. Hey, if they wanted us to buy more pictures, they shouldn't have allowed me to bring in my own camera. Live and learn.

So I've returned to Bah-Humbug mode for at least another week. I'll try to get back into the Christmas spirit after Thanksgiving. After all, I've got Christmas lights to hang.

Registered

Well, I'm entering the final three weeks of my first college course in 16 years, and I'm happy to say it's gone well. I was concerned that I wouldn't have the umption in my gumption to maintain the discipline needed to keep up with the course work, but it really hasn't been a problem. It doesn't hurt that the class has been a total cakewalk, almost too easy. It's been a nice way to ease myself back into school in an attempt to more fully round out my job skills.

Yes, I fall into the category of roughly 90% of America's work force who are currently "unsatisfied" with their vocation. I don't have a bad job. It's just not something I want to do for the rest of my life. I work at a local television station where my job, in a nutshell, is to watch TV. And push a lot of buttons. What's so bad about that, right? Like I said, it's not a bad job, I'm just dealing with a "been there, done that" mentality. I need something different, more creatively challenging than pushing the button so that you can see a Geico commercial...that crazy gecko. When I originally took the job, I set a goal of two years in which to gain experience and then move up. I've now been here for over four years. So I decided to shake off the crust that's settled during those extra two years and go back to school.

The ease of my class this past semester has made me a little cocky. Perhaps too cocky because I registered for two classes next semester. I know that I wouldn't be able to handle a load more than that, but who knows, even one of these classes could be more than a hand full. All I know is that I want to build up my job skills fast, and taking one class per term could drag this process on forever. So I'm trying two, one that really excites me and one that scares the hell out of me. I'm excited about the Digital Video Editing class. Editing is what I think I'd ultimately like to to get into and I've wanted to take this class for a couple of years now. The problem is that it was never available when I was available. Until now. Bring it on, baby!

The class that has me practically peeing in my pants is Writing for Film and Television. It's one thing to write a blog for tens of eyes to see, but quite another to submit your attempt at creative writing for someone else to decorate with their red pen. I think I do a decent job of relating stories of my day to day experiences in a way that is hopefully humorous and entertaining, but to "make up" stories that people are going to want to watch for entertainment is a whole different ball of wax. Thankfully this is just a class where I can learn and test myself a bit to see if there might be more out there for me. You know, light the passion, open new doors of opportunity, blah, blah, blah, that sort of thing. I just hope I'm not biting off more than I can chew.

Laying the Foundation

Phase 2 of the flagstone patio project has begun. We finished phase 1 in mid-August, and took a couple of months off to recover and allow the summer heat to come to an end. Phase 1 involved building a side patio that essentially covered up a weed pit next to our house. Phase two will extend the back patio into the grassy area of our back yard.



Phase 2 required quite a bit of prep work, first of which was to remove the 10 million tons of river rock filling the space between the patio and grass. The rock looked cool, but just wasn't functional as we grew tired of twisting our ankles practically every time we walked across it, which was often.



We made two large piles of rock on either side of the yard. One afternoon I looked out a back window and saw what I thought was litter that had blown into one of the piles. I walked out to pick it up and discovered it wasn't litter at all. It was a declaration:



I later asked Kailey whether those were her rocks or if she "rocked", to which she replied, "Yes." That's my girl!



Now the hard work has begun. For the past week, my father-in-law and I have been clearing dirt, staking things out, and mixing and pouring concrete. My father-in-law is the brains behind this operation, otherwise I would never undertake such an ambitious project. Of course no project could unfold without running into at least one problem. We discovered that an irrigation line cut through a portion of the new patio area. Most of my time on Tuesday was spent exhuming the lines, splicing them and running them through PVC piping and reburying them so that we could get at them if (when) they leak in the future.



Once we finish laying the cement foundation, we'll begin the long process of hauling the sheets of flagstone that you can see lined up against the wall and creatively placing them on the patio. I'm excited because I know it's going to look great. Hopefully we'll be done by Christmas.

That Makes Two of Us

In light of recent developments, Diane bought Kailey a pack of supportive camisoles during their post Hannah Montana concert shopping trip in Phoenix. For those of you clueless Dad's of daughters out there, I'm going to try to walk you through this as best as I can. I don't want anyone out there getting blindsided like I was. A supportive camisole, or "cami", as Diane likes to call them, is basically a tight-fitting tank top with extra, you know, support. Diane's going to totally laugh at me for calling it a "supportive cami", but that's what it is! The cami with a listening ear. OK, moving on.

Kailey was initially excited because a girl in her class was already wearing one. "Yeah, I can feel the straps of it under her shirt when I put my hand on her shoulder," Kailey explained to Diane. Why she's putting her hand on her classmate's shoulder is beyond me. Maybe Kailey's just trying to be supportive. Any excitement over her new cami evaporated the moment she tried it on in the dressing room.

A little background to describe Kailey's style preferences...let's just say she's a little particular, with a dash of mental, when it comes to her clothes. We once went through an eight month stretch last year when every time Kailey put on a shirt, she would reach both arms straight up into the air like a bandit caught robbing a bank. If her belly showed while she "reached for the sky", she absolutely would not wear the shirt. We had to buy her shirts that draped down over her knees just to be safe. And it's not just shirts. We carefully monitor Kailey's expressions as she gets dressed in case an intervention is needed. She gets this look on her face when her mind is not agreeing with the fit of the clothing. Then she freaks.

"It teases me! It teases me!"

This, we have since decided, is Kailey's way of saying, "Mother, Father, this garment that you have chosen for my attire is fitting me in a most displeasureable way and I am currently quite vexed." We then go through a sophisticated process of Q & A before taking action: how is it teasing her, can it be adjusted, stretched out, tucked in, rolled over, or cut, or do we just simply need to start over? It's pretty aggravating.

Diane noticed "the look" on Kailey's face moments after she put on the new cami and quickly intervened. It helped being in a public dressing room which kept Kailey's ensuing conniption at a minimum. Diane calmly explained to her that she was growing up and that though the cami was uncomfortable, it was something she was going to have to learn to deal with because she would be wearing something like it for the rest of her natural born life. She then explained that it would be uncomfortable for a few days, then she would get used to it and it wouldn't bother her any more.

And then something amazing happened: Kailey was OK with it! Just like that, excitement over supportive cami-wearing was restored! Doing her best Brandi Chastain at the World Cup impersonation, Kailey ripped off her shirt to reveal her new cami to her Papa as soon as they got home. "Look what I got, Papa!"

"Oh, yeah...nice!" he politely responded, not really knowing what was going on.

She proudly wore it the rest of the day, no problem. I think she even slept in it. But then we let her take Sunday and Monday off.

Big. Frickin'. Mistake.

We reached DEFCON 1 in a matter of seconds yesterday morning while getting dressed for school. And nothing was working to get Kailey's mind off of the tight-fitting cami. Diane reprised her eloquent dressing room speech. Bomb. I used Jedi mind tricks ("You WILL wear the cami..."). Bomb. Threats of loss of TV and treats. Didn't care. I finally decided that I just needed to get her out the door because the only thing that was going to get her mind off the cami was being in public. Nobody wants their classmates to see them having a total meltdown. It worked. She was a little pouty in the van, but the worst of the storm was over.

All throughout her tirade, Kailey kept crying, "I don't want to grow up! I don't want to grow up!" And though I was currently annoyed at her tantrum, I later couldn't help but think, "Neither do I, Sweetie. Neither do I." But I could do without the hissy fits.

This morning Kailey still met the cami with a little resistance, but it was brief, maybe reaching DEFCON 4. And hopefully tomorrow cami-tantrums will be a thing of the past, another step in the journey of growing up.

Tagged!

It was bound to happen sooner or later. When you participate in an exercise like Nablopomo and join it's various groups, you're bound to meet new people and read some great blogs, which I have. And at some point you're going to get tagged by one of those new blogging friends, which I have. David over at Living in the Now tagged me for the Crazy 8's meme. So here we go:

8 things I'm passionate about:

• Family
• Music: listening, singing, writing, guitar, recording...hell, if I'da listed these separately, I'd be done
  
• Writing/blogging...have I mentioned before that I'm addicted to Sitemeter?
  
• Creating in general
  
• Coffee: the stronger, the better
• Doing the right thing
• Grilling the perfect steak
• Those Fighting Illini
  

8 things I want to do before I die:

• Record a CD
• Learn how to record a CD
  
• Jump out of a plane, preferably with parachute attached
• Walk both of my daughters down the aisle
  
• Tour the East with family...take in Washington DC, NYC, Boston, etc.
• Go to Australia...I've wanted to do this since I was a kid
• Sing the national anthem at Wrigley Field
• Belch the alphabet in one long belch
  

8 things I say often:

• "Knock it off!"
• "Settle down!"
• "What did I say?"
• "Well I certainly didn't make this mess."
  
• "Yes, hon, I'm certain the girls are asleep."
• "Yes, hon, I locked the door."
• "No, hon, I didn't hear anything."
• "I'm sorry."
  

8 books I've read recently:

• Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows by J. K. Rowling
• Into the Wild by Jon Krakauer
• Running with Scissors by Augusten Burroughs
• The Road by Cormac McCarthy
• Middlesex by Jeffrey Eugenides
• The City of Falling Angels by John Berendt
• To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee
• Naked by David Sedaris
  

8 songs I could listen to over and over (this is a tough one to limit to 8, so I'm going to cheat a little bit):

• "Where the Streets Have No Name", "One", and pretty much anything else by U2
• "#41" and "Crush" by Dave Matthews...oh, hell, all DM stuff...especially his acoustic stuff with Tim Reynolds
  
• Anything on West Coast Diaries 2 by Charlie Peacock
• "Smooth Criminal" by Michael Jackson...he's a freak, but has made some freakin' good music
• The John Mayer Trio live album, Try!
• Four words: Toad. The. Wet. Sprocket. It's all good.
• "Heart-Shaped Box", "Come As You Are", "Smells Like Teen Spirit" by Nirvana...for those special times
• When I'm in a really sappy mood, "Faithfully" by Journey
  

8 things that attract me to my best friends:

• Sense of humor
• Adventurous
  
• Passionate/know what they want out of life
• Supportive
• Listeners
• Similar interests: music, sports, etc.
• Intelligence/insight
• Authentic
  

8 people I think should do Crazy 8's:

• OK, I'm lame...anyone so inclined!!