The ants go marching...

...two by two!

Okay, this has nothing to do with my former adventures in pest control (summary of said adventures).  This actually deals more with personal desires.  They always say that you should set a time to do such and such and then stick to it!  Usually this involves exercise or daily devotions and usually they tell you to do that at 5 am or something similarly ridiculous. 

I have discovered that the morning was not made for me, but maybe its for all those type A go-getters out there in the world. I'm not type A.  I don't think I can even transform into a type A person if I wanted to.  I don't have that desire, so life is good.  That actually makes me think of this:


Yeah, that dude isn't going to make it!

I've tried doing the early morning thing, but my bed has this gravitational pull that is so strong that even if I do leave its comfort, my brain stays with it in spirit.  Ask my wife how responsive I am in the wee hours.  She asked me the other day what time I came back to bed after comforting our older daughter who decided to wake up crying, very early in the morning.  I don't recall even leaving our bedroom. 

So usually I scoff at this advice, but today I've decided to try it.  It won't be an early morning thing, because I want to write everyday and if I tried to demand that I write something first thing in the morning, my writing would be more incomprehensible than my two year-old's drawings. 

My goal is two sentences written or wrote, damn I hate verbs, by two in the afternoon.  2 x 2.   You might be thinking, Whoa, Bill, don't over do it!  And I might smirk at your smart-ass nature, and then explain to you that most days when I get over the blankness of the page and actually start writing, it just starts flowing and before I know it, a page is filled.  Much like this blog post that seems to be running on and on.  I started writing today at 1:48pm and haven't stopped and that was twenty minutes ago.  Its about momentum and I like it. 

So if you see me and its three o'clock in the afternoon, feel free to ask if I got my two in for the day!

Grumpiest old man...

...you must die!

We've all heard misery loves company.  But company definitely doesn't love misery.  Some days I feel like I'm company and a certain coworker is misery.  The only problem with the whole thing is that I often get dragged down to misery's level and become miserable myself.  I hate it.  Often I start talking to someone and by the time I'm done I wonder if I sounded like a whiny little girl or a grumpy old man. 

I'm pretty sure that I usually sound like an awful chimera of both. 

How does this happen? I drive into work, usually after spending about ten minutes hanging with my wife and daughter in silence as my brain warms up to the fact that it is awake. Then while it finishes its boot up cycle I'm half way to work and the last ten minutes I either focus on the good parts of life or get angry at people who drive 30mph (in the left lane, no less) when the speed limit is 65mph, but that anger fades quickly.  And I get to work with a pretty good attitude regardless.

Then I sit at my desk and eat some yogurt as I plan for my day and check the ol' email.  Then into the lab I head.  Ten minutes later I'm ready to throttle the old guy who doesn't have anything nice to say about anything or anyone.  He seems angry and bitter about everything.  His pay, all politicians, coworkers, construction workers, greeters at walmart, ants marching across his desk, and that guy that use to work with him 20 years ago!  Blegh. 

His attitude is corrosive.  I just stick in my head phones and find something semi-positive to listen to, yet he comes in and waits for me to stop to take my earbuds out to listen to his latest complaint.  Aaarrrgghhhh!!!! 

I had to text my wife today for prayer so that I didn't stab him with my lefthanded scissors that he keeps buying me (I write left-handed, but after a lifetime of dealing with right-handed scissors, I'm a righty in my cutting habits).  I had another coworker that told me he would help me dispose of the body. 

I find myself thinking up devious ways to get back at him.

Then while trying to divert my thoughts from revenge today, I was reminded of a movie.  Grumpy old men (go watch it if you haven't already).  And I realized that is my life.  We aren't competing for the love of a woman. I'm competing for my sanity.  I think up ways to make him suffer (I haven't thrown dead fish into his car yet) and luckily he hasn't retaliated, or realized that I do anything to make his worker life harder, otherwise things would escalate like they do in the movie. 

I actually haven't done a lot, I did pour a few granules of sugar on his desk to draw the ants away from mine, but at the time I was mad because he placed a full open bag on my desk, which really drew them towards my desk.  That doesn't really justify anything, I'm just saying I'm turning into a grumpier old man and soon I'll be worse than him.  I don't want that. 

I want joy and peace in my life.  To do that I need to kill the grumpy old man in me.   Its hard.  It'll take a lot of work.  I'm going to have to humble myself.  I might have to crank up the tunes in my earbuds or go deaf to block out some of the whining (doesn't Jesus say something about shoving pencils through your eardrums because its better to lose one, or two, parts of your body than to have it all thrown into hell?  not a literal translation, but I do think it might work in this situation).  Or I could just take Monday, Wednesday and Fridays off and never have to deal with him.

 The last two might be unrealistic, so I guess I'll have to do some internal work on me. 

Feel free to pray...

Knowledge and Identity...

...lessons from my daughter.

We have been working with Charleigh on signing so that its easier for her to communicate with us.  It hasn't been very successful, but I still try to use some of the signs that we know or made up while talking to her.  I made up one where I point to myself, draw a heart on my chest and then point to her while telling her that I love her.

At first when I started doing this I would get a big grin out of her.  Now when I do it she will sometimes still get that same grin and then point to herself.  Her mom keeps trying to teach her to say it back, but I honestly wouldn't care if she did, I just want her to know that I love her, that she can find comfort and rest in that.  When I see her point to herself I think to myself that she knows she is an object of her father's affection.

I want her to grow up confident in the fact that she has two parents who love her no matter what and that there is a God in heaven that loves her even more than either of us could ever imagine.

I have been told that having children gives you a new perspective on God.  And I have to admit that it does.  I just wish that it was easier to form that identity in my heart and mind that I'm an object of affection to God (like  my daughter seems to have when it comes to her parents).  There's no bigger testament to his love than the Jesus death, burial, and resurrection.  Yet when He says He loves me, I don't grin and point to myself, secure in that knowledge.  Sometimes I struggle in accepting that love and grace.  Sometimes I doubt his delight in me.  I'm kinda jealous of my daughter in all honesty.

I have a lot to learn, and I'm glad He has blessed us with our daughter to reveal more of Himself to us...to me!

Parei-what....

I said Pareidolia.

What's that, you might ask.  Well let me tell you.

pareidolia (ˌpæraɪˈdəʊlɪə)
 -n
  the imagined perception of a pattern or meaning where it does not actually exist, as in considering the moon to have human features (def courtesy of dictionary.com)

I just learned the word today when I saw someone posting pics of peoples burnt toast.  The burnt toast supposedly has the image of Christ in it and others had Mary. 

And then the thought hit me, if God has chosen toasted bread to reveal his son to the world, should I slow down while eating breakfast just in case he has some special message for me. Then I remembered that I don't eat toast for breakfast.  I do yogurt on the weekdays and on the weekends I tend to eat eggs scrambled by my wife which she then places on tortillas.  Adding a little salsa and cheese and they are great.  Sometimes I even get some sausage on them. 

Will I miss out on a word from God cause I'm eating my breakfast with south of the border flatbread rather than good ol' American burnt bread?  Should I start a ministry where we send loaves of bread along with toasters to people all over the world so they can have God reveal Jesus, or Mary, to them via scorched bread?

Maybe I'll have to invent a solar powered toaster for people in countries that don't have access to electricity.  Mmmm, solar powered toast!   I'll have to give this some thought...

Whatever happened to Bill...

It's been a big month for us.  Over three and a half weeks, starting July 3rd, we traveled over 5200 miles (not including a weekend spent in northern colorado, where we drove another vehicle which prevented us from tracking the trip).  Seventeen of those nights were spent in twelve different hotel rooms.   Two family reunions were visited, and I lost track of the number of state and national parks we drove through.  Over 400 minutes were racked up on our cell phone bill because of DaNae contacting people to try and find trap sites (yes, I think she worked harder on this trip as a volunteer than I did as a paid employee, but she wasn't allowed to drive, and it was easier for me to set up the traps without her or Charleigh around.  We made ten different contacts on the road and then my wife made about a dozen more over the phone of people who would send us mosquitoes from their areas.  We ate fast food for over 45 meals (and I only gained about 2 pounds, which is a little worrisome).  Had to call a tow truck twice (in the same night) and no one was injured.

Before the trip began, my wife would call or text multiple times a day to see what the plan was for the trip.  I said I had no idea.  I knew that my boss wanted us to hit five states, but I thought he was finding contacts in those states.  I found out I was wrong a couple days before we left.  No biggy, I've done small trips like this.  You just go and find someone who'll let you trap on their land.  Once we left my family reunion in Gillette, I just told DaNae to start searching the internet for people who might have good places for us to trap.  By the time we were done with western Montana, she was a pro.  She found a person in eastern Washington who promised us stuff so we wouldn't have to go there, and by the time we hit Wyoming, she had found contacts for North and South Dakota, so we wouldn't have to trap there either.  I think she saved the government several thousand dollars right there.

Then we went to Wellington, CO for her family reunion and from there I headed to Casper while she headed home.  The truck broke down in York, NE and I had some issues when the road side assistance people asked me where I wanted the truck towed.  I asked who they recommend and  the lady said she was in Texas so she couldn't help out with suggestions.  I was miffed and wondered what good roadside assistance was if they couldn't help.  She then did an internet search for garages and found three for me.  All three were in Pennsylvania which wasn't helpful in Nebraska.  Long story short, I finally made it to a hotel at 10:30 that night, with the thought that I'd be stuck there car-less for a couple days. The truck was fixed the next morning and I was on my way home again without incident.

I think the hardest part of the trip was coming home.  I think I could've stayed on the road for another month without any worries, other than trying to convince someone to mow the lawn a couple more times for free.  And coming home to find a bill from the government for $700 didn't help matters any.  It actually felt like a big slap in the face after relocating my family to Kansas and then all the work my wife did on this trip for free.

SO in summary, great trip, happy feelings. Get home and bitterness and worry try to overtake.  Maybe we should just live on the road! ok, not really.

Roller Derby DaNae part 2...

She still isn't convinced, so I paid rather large sum of money to an unnamed man to do an artist's rendition of how awesome and happy she would be skating!

I might have to get a refund or a redo...

Roller Derby DaNae....

I love my wife.  I think she is amazing.

It is Wednesday and I could make a list of all the amazing things she does that makes her so amazing, but I won't.  Today I'm going to write the list of reasons I think my wife should start a roller-derby league here in the Manhattan, KS area (I'm assuming from a brief web search that there isn't one).

1. Planning:  My wife loves to plan and organize things.  I don't get it, it drives me nuts sometimes.  I'm not into planning, I'd rather just go do something.  I think putting together a roller-derby league would give her the planning fix she so often needs due to my non-committal tendencies when it comes to plans.
2. Toughing up:  the first year of our marriage, DaNae cried about once every four days.  The second year was down to about once every three weeks and year three was less than once a month.  Almost all of those cries have been because of her husband, me. And during year four I can only remember two times that I made her cry.  So marriage has already toughened her up some, but I think she could still be less of a wuss in some matters (like when coming into contact with spiders) and roller-derbying would do that for her.
3. Exercise:  DaNae hates her body despite the fact that I love it.  She always proclaims 'how bad she's been'  or how 'she needs to get back on the ball' and sometimes she replaces the ball with a wagon.  I don't get it.  But what I do get is that whatever she tries eventually gets put aside and some gleaming new thing catches her eye like some new contraption that'll dissolve that fat away like it was butter, or some new exercise routine that some person tries to instruct you on via DVD.  I think her problem is boredom.  I'd get bored (and frustrated) if I tried to follow along with some ripped person dancing around on the television.  I think getting into the ring with a bunch of ladies and going round and round, while trying not to get bumped off or clothes lined would fill that exercise need and prevent that deadly onslaught of boredom which so often knocks her off whatever track or ball or wagon she might be on.
4. Aggression: She says she isn't aggressive enough to play a sport like this.  I think its a lie. I don't know anyone who isn't aggressive in some way.  We all are, and I think if she had the chance to throw an elbow into someone else's face than she would be happier on a whole than she is now.  Maybe it would give her the confidence to chase after what she really wants.
5. Sex appeal:  I'll be honest, I think she would look hot throwing elbows and bumping other ladies off the track while moving around on eight wheels.  
6. Role model:  I think it would be a great influence on our daughter for her to see her mom active and out of the house while possibly knocking some other ladies teeth out and showing good sportsmanship.  

These are the six reasons that popped into my head over the last hour...do you have a good reason that might encourage my wife to trade in her shoes for new ones that have wheels attached?

Death in the family...

This morning has brought to my mind a serious question.  If you have conjoined twins and one dies, what happens to the other? 

After three wonderful years together, one of the most beautiful singers, readers and musicians I have ever known passed away.  I called her Righty.  This is of course a nickname for she was a conjoined twin and her sibling, Lefty, is still going strong. 

I met them about three years ago, about a year after DaNae and I got married.  And I've listened to their beautiful voices almost every single day since then.  At work, in the tub, while mowing and even late at night while DaNae was sleeping. They have been there when life was hard and they helped in encouraging me to continue on.  They have been there when life has been great and rejoiced with me.  They helped block out the whining caused by my coworker and officemate.  They sang songs that touched my soul.  They read to me books that I was too lazy to read. 

Righty passed away this morning around 9am central time.  It was sudden and without warning.  Usually there are always signs like static or intermittent blackouts, but not today, not with Righty.  And sadly, the world will go on.  Only Lefty and myself will morn her loss for no one else really knew her like we did.  She was the stereo to Lefty's mono.

Now I'm left with the conundrum of what to do with Righty and Lefty.  Lefty still works good, but without Righty, the world noise can no longer be drowned out.  I thought about just cutting Righty off, but then the whole thing would just look weird.  I guess I could just tape Righty to the main body and wait for a new set of headphones so that Righty doesn't get tangled with Lefty and make matters worse for us all. 

Hopefully my next pair of headphones last me as long and be as kind to me. 


P.S.  There will be no memorial services, but I can set up a memorial fund if people feel like sending cash or checks. You could even use paypal if you want. Just let me know and I can get you the information for where to send the money.  Thanks.

Six months...

Its amazing to think that its been six months.  Some days it feels like its been only a couple and other days I can't remember what life was like before Charleigh.  Well I might strike that, I can't remember what life was like before Charleigh except for date nights.  I really miss the nights DaNae and I could go out and not worry about getting to the sitter's at a decent hour.  I think that is the thing I miss the most of our pre-Charleigh era.  I think moving right before she was born has been the biggest help to shedding our single life together.  New friends (even though I definitely miss the old ones), new town (I also miss a lot of things about Laramie, like Peach Ice Tea from CoalCreek, but I don't miss the weather at all!), gone are the old memories, those things to remind us of what life was like.  Its been good!

But its been six months and Charleigh is a crawling, smiling fool!  She seriously looks like a frog when she crawls.  I keep trying to capture the moment on camera to share with the world, but by the time I track down the machine, she has moved on to something with which she can deposit her drool on.

We had our six month appointment today and she got a tube full of something in her mouth and three shots in her legs.  And for the first time at the doctor's she actually cried.  I think it was a mixture of hunger and a non-subtle nurse with the needles.  The other nurse was more highly skilled.  But she survived and was smiling by the time the nurse left the room.

I can't remember her stats other than she was 16.4 pounds and 27.5 inches long.  She's healthy and happy 95% of the time.  We've been blessed.

So after six months, neither of us our sleep deprived like everyone said we would be and Charleigh's poop is really starting to stink!  That's our life in a nutshell right now.  Hopefully the rain doesn't wash out my new grass, or the old!  Good night....