"Daddy, Do You Have To Go To Work Today?"

I hear the question almost every day.

"Daddy, do you have to go to work today?"

It seems that a transformation has occurred in the last few months.  A transition in which Jack has realized he and I have more in common than he does with his mother.  From the time he was born, he was attached at the hip to Ashley.  He wanted her to put him to bed, to feed him, to comfort him when he was sick.  But recently, his tune has changed.  He yearns for time spent with me, and I've enjoyed the transformation.

But having to answer his question daily, it makes going to work that much harder.

They, it's TJ. Remember us?

Missed us?

Sorry.  This is 100% my fault.  I know, I sent out a semi-humorous letter during the holidays in which I, again, invited you to visit, but there was no new content.  For months.  Again, my fault.  I hate to admit it, but on the daily priority list, this took a back seat to double ear infections, disclosure statements, charitable volunteering,  threatening letters, soccer games, and, yes, my addiction to golf.  And procrastination, but we can talk about that later.

Some of you may keep up with us via Facebook, but like here, Ashley updates that about as frequently as humans visit the moon.  I'm more verbose, but mostly with goofy stuff that I find in the internet when I get a couple of minutes to surf the intrawebz.  Case, in, point. (In my defense, I do like to post photos of the boys there.)

If interested, here are some recent videos I've made with my handy-dandy new Android-powered device, the Motorola Droid, when we took the boys to play some mini-golf.

By way of ultra-quick update, Jack is doing well.  He had his first tee ball practice on Tuesday and impressed the crowd with a barrage of bombs over the heads of the practice squad.  I'm glad he's ready to hit off a tee because he refuses to do so at home, insisting that I lob him the ball, which he drills back at me about 90% of the time.  First game is a week from Saturday, so I'll do my best to get pictures.

Jack remains almost dependent on Xbox 360 which frustrates me to no end.  I have no one to blame but myself because I brought it home.  Now I realize why my parents resisted the Segas and Nintendos when I was younger.  Then again, they didn't play them before having kids, either.  I have to admit, after a long day, it is fun to blast some digital Nazis in high definition to let out a little frustration.  But I fear that Jack has become a bit too needy for our time playing Lego Star Wars.  As much as possible, I try to defer to other (preferably outdoor) activities when we play.

Sam remains the happiest 19 month old alive, but has recently decided to begin testing his limits.  In short, he loves to be naughty.  He is currently (last two days) struggling with a double ear infection, and we may be on the road to tubes.  I'm not thrilled about it (as I fear hearing loss) but left untreated, hearing loss could occur anyways, so we may have to go the tube route regardless. No clue why this has been a persistent problem, but we definitely notice that he's been slower to pick up words than Jack was, but he's by no means behind the guidelines.  The downside of double ear infections (other than the obvious) is that it turns Sam into his "Hyde" side.  That is, he becomes everything he isn't on a normal day: needy, fussy and persistently whining, enough to tax our patience.  Sleep becomes intermittent (up every 2-3 hours throughout the night) which puts additional strain on the two of us.

However, Sam, we've discovered, really digs music.  If I turn on the iPod in the bedroom (it's attached to a stereo) he starts popping up and down and swinging his arms around.  He completes the package with a smile the size of Texas and giggles as I dance with him.  He brightens everyone's day and we are repeatedly receiving comments by strangers of "oh, he's so happy!"

So, to close, I'm intending to try to maintain this with less large "substantive" updates and more short ones with anecdotal stories about the boys (and, when appropriate, Ashley).

Gingerbread Houses + Homemade Beer = More Fun than a Burlap Bag of Feral Cats

Sorry, this is not a post about Jack OR Sam. They're fine. If not too fine. I swear these children are made of rocket fuel and "loud."

Ashley and I WENT TO THIS and had way too much fun. This was our second year. The first year, I was skeptical. Very skeptical. I mean, how much fun can building and decorating a gingerbread house really be? Turns out that it can be so much fun that you end up at the end of the night in the street swinging a golf club at your house, just for kicks. (That was last year. This year, the houses earned more respect.)

The gig is this: you bake (read: buy from Walgreens) your own gingerbread in any style you like, and you can even pre-construct it before you come (the beautiful hosts provide frosting mortar), but you have to decorate it at the party, all while sipping the finest home brew you've ever tasted. Some homes come with themes, some are just big and gawdy, and some are just a disaster. Litterally minutes before we left for the party, Ashley and I concocted the idea that we'd go with the then-still-developing "Tiger's Crash (and Burn)" story as our theme. I borrowed a few of Jack's toys and we were good to go. For the record, our house stayed true to the theme to the extent it had a truck crashed into a tree, a downed fire hydrant (complete with water spilling out) and a pair of "rescue" vehicles. We made it to the finals, but were beat out by the scale model of someone's childhood home. I am not kidding. Here is the proof. I was remiss that I couldn't conjure up a small blonde wielding an 7 iron, but there's always next year.

Prior to the party, another attendant at the party and I had concocted the idea for "gingerbread Lincoln logs." I ran out of time and didn't try to create them, but he did. And am I glad he did because it resulted in colossal failure. Gloriously hilarious colossal failure. So much so that he earned the "Mr. Hankey Christmas Pooh" award.

Discipline.

I bet you think I'm going to settle into my usual windbaggery and wax prophetic about how discipline is important in the Ryan household and how Jack and Sam receive a firm (but nonetheless fair) hand when at home, but I'm not. No. This post is to admit that blogging takes discipline, and while my erstwhile friends (*cough* Stacey *cough* Kelly *cough*) continue to post with surprising regularity and quality, I find that between being a father, practicing law and keeping a single-digit handicap, blogging has fallen even below "casual reading" on my "Gee, what should I do now?" list. And for that, my dear reader, I sincerely apologize.

To whet your appetite for the time being, here's a cute story about a precocious feline and her unwitting friend, Johnny Law:

The "Other" Blog

In an effort to separate my ramblings from the stories of the antcis of my two sons, I have revived the "other" blog. It's my attempt to be funny, and my repository for things that I run across in my daily travels across the internet landscape.

Yes, I bill by the hour. No, clients are not billed for my time when I'm writing on the blog. I am so sorry to have to break your preconceived notion that I'm billing every hour of every day. I'm not. I am human. Most of the time.

THE OTHER BLOG.

"Hey Daddy, Lets Play Some Wii!"

It started all so innocently.

"Daddy, lets play boxing. I like boxing."

I obliged. Traditionally, Jack simply flails his arms at the TV, hoping to land a punch here and there, but always enjoying the experience. Traditionally, I lay him flat on his back (digitally speaking) every time with a barrage of well placed attacks.

But this time seemed different. And quickly, the tone changed.

"Daddy, I'm going to bring the hot fire on you."

"Well," I thought, "this is new."

He brought the hot fire. He waited patiently, and took swings when I was open. He protected his head and dodged jabs. He knocked me down. Then, he knocked me out. It took him three tries, but he did indeed take me down.

It is so on now.

Follow Me On Twitter

If you want. Or don't. You're small potatoes considering that John Daly follows me. Yeah, THAT John Daly.

http://twitter.com/tjryanesq

Today, I'm Proud to be Irish.

Found, Part Deux.

I always understood and accepted (mostly based on jokes told by New York residents and Saturday Night Live skits) that New Jersey's environment isn't really taken care of by its residents.

Without such intention, this blog pretty much proves it. But before you dismiss it, scroll through a few pages. The photography is pretty good, and the scenes the author captures are worth your time.

Jack Knows His ABC's AND His Pop Culture Icons

[Scene:  Jack and TJ sitting on the couch watching baseball.]

Jack:  Do you know that lady with the big thing on her head that I saw at Aaron & Tina's today?

TJ: No.  Remember, I was working, not having fun with you today.  

Jack:  Well, her name was Lady GaGa.  [looking at TJ with all seriousness.]

TJ: [caught off guard by the name-drop of "Lady GaGa," begins to chuckle heartily.  Jack, at first confused, joins in and starts laughing at his unintentional joke.]

Jack:  HER NAME IS LADY GAGA [laughs]

TJ: [laughs]

Jack: HER! NAME! IS! LADY! GAGA! [falls down laughing]

Ashley: [to TJ, incredulously] You know who Lady GaGa is?

Facebook is my Happy Place.

I'll admit it: I really dig Facebook. It probably has not generated one red cent of business for me, but it makes me feel good knowing that I can keep in touch with my close (and not so close, and some just people I barely know) friends.

In a rare but nonetheless free moment, I jumped on to see what people were up to and ran across a "note" written by a law school classmate and fellow Law Review slave, Sarah.  It's called "Mosaic of Me."  It is as follows:

---

Rules:

a. Type your answer to each of the questions below into Flickr Search (http://www.flickr.com/).

b. Using ONLY the first page, pick an image.

c. Copy and paste each of the URLs for the images into Mosaic Maker. Change rows to 3 and columns to 3 (http://bighugelabs.com/flickr/mosaic.php).

d. Save the image and post it on this note.

If you're tagged, pass it on. And tag the person who tagged you.

The Questions:

1. What is your first name?

2. What is your favorite food?

3. What is your favorite color?

4. Favorite drink?

5. Dream vacation?

6. Favorite hobby?

7. What you want to be when you grow up?

8. What do you love the most in life?

9. One word to describe you?

Here's what I came up with (and yes I did follow the instructions):

So for the rest of you out there who blog, I invite you to go through the excercise. Heck, it beats writing original content any day.

[Answers: 1) TJ, 2) Sushi, 3) Blue, 4) Bud Light Lime, 5) Fishing Quietly, 6) Golf, 7) Marine Biologist, 8) My kids, 9) Tired.]

Our Little Existentialist Veterinarian

During a recent outing, Jack and I had the following conversation.  To preface it, you have to understand that with potty training in full swing, there's a lot of talk about pee-pee, poo-poo, and the various tools and mechanisms linked to those activities.  

The conversation began when Jack told me, not five minutes after leaving the house and not six minutes after I had asked him if he needed to use the facilities before we left the house, that he needed to relieve himself.  This conversation ensued:

TJ:  "Jack, can you hold it buddy?  We have about five more minutes left in our drive."

Jack: "Yes, Daddy.  I have a gate in my penis."

T:  "[chuckling] Oh really?  That's good.  Please put a lock on your gate until we get to the park."

J:  "Okay.  [pause]  Jesus put the gate in my penis."

T: "[now a little confused at how we arrived here] Is that so.  I'm glad he did that.  Please use what he gave you."

J: "Okay.  Jesus made my penis."

T:  "Well, sort of in a round about way, yes. But... [I had no idea where to go from there, so I just faded off.]"

J:  "God made Jesus."  [Ed. Note:  Romanians agree.]

T:  "Well, not exactly, but we'll cover that ground when you're a little older and we can discuss the Trinity."  

[a 90 second pause.]

J:  "Daddy, who made God?"

T:  "Uuuuhhhhhh..." 

I tried to explain that "some" believe that we (man) created God (the "opium of the people" and all that jazz) and that others like us believe that God just is and was.  A little deep for a three year old, but I did my best to put it in his terms.  Thankfully, he chose to change the subject shortly after my mini lecture:

J:  "Daddy, when Mommy and me went the mall a few weeks ago [it was more like two months ago] we saw doggies.  One of the doggies ate his own poop.  Then he prolly threw up 'cuz when doggies eat their own poop, they throw up."

Existentialism and veterinary advice all in one 10 minute drive!

Found.

There are times when my normally finely tuned, task-oriented brain just up and quits and forces me to do a little bit of unconstrained thinking. It means I start reading either a random Wikipedia entry (there's a "random entry" button on the left bar of the Wikipiedia page) or get updates from friends' blogs, and then jumping from those pages to other linked blogs, then to another, and another until my brain is ready to get back on track. A smart man once told me it's the "playful puppy" nature of our brains, and sometimes we just have to indulge it so that we can stay efficient and on task the rest of the time.

Today, I had a moment which required some play time with my brain puppy.

So I started here. Then went here (which seems like a cool app and one I may try someday). Then here (a very neat photography blog). Then here. The last was my favorite. A truly unique and well honed approach to topical blogging, but yet one that leaves the door wide open to a wide variety of topics for discussion. I think the easiest trap for bloggers to fall into is limitation of subject matter to such an extent that finding new and interesting topics to write about becomes near impossible.

[UPDATE: This is pretty funny. I found this doing a search for "baby in a bar" on Google Images, something I refer to quite often. The second photo posted is what I located and couldn't live without. I also love the "dead to me" section in the left column.]