Toby’s First Birthday

No year has ever flown by like this year has. I feel like Robyn just told me she was pregnant with Toby yesterday, but tomorrow is his first birthday. It’s hard to believe. Last year at this time (1am, December 28), Robyn and I were hanging out, waiting to see if the kid would be born by year end or not. An hour later, Robyn’s water broke all over a chair that we may or may not still have in our living room (!), The Tobe was born later that evening, and life has never been the same.

One year ago, Toby wasn’t yet born. Today, he will smile and wave at all of his grandparents and aunts and great-grandparents, he will open his presents on his own, he will walk along the furniture, he will try to feed himself with a spoon, he will laugh, he will try to climb his mommy, he will dance with his daddy, he will give kisses to everyone, he will yell at the cats. I could go on, but you get the picture… EVERYTHING changes in a year with a child.

He’s an amazing little guy. I can’t get mad at him. We took him to the photographer today to get his 1-year pictures taken. He wasn’t very cooperative, to put it mildly. We weren’t very thrilled with any of the shots, and he threw a major temper tantrum (his newest fun thing to do) while we were trying to decide what to order. If he wasn’t my kid, I would’ve wanted to throw him across the room. But he’s mine. Yes, it may have been a horrible temper tantrum, he may have been completely out of line… but he’s my flesh and blood… he’s my little man.

So much has changed with The Tobe in the last year, but I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention the unbelievable transformation in Robyn and me. We were completely clueless when he was first born. We’re still clueless. But we’re very different. We can’t remember what it was like before Toby. We sleep a lot less. We date each other a lot less. And somehow, we love each other so much more than we did a year ago. It’s very strange, and very good.

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Just Like Old Times

Mike and Jerri were in town from North Carolina to spend Christmas with family. Last night, they and Brooke and Andrea came over to join Robyn and me for an evening of LaRosa’s, good conversation, and 3 hours of Apples to Apples (aka the best game ever).

For those who have never played A2A, I’ll demonstrate… each player has 7 cards, each of which contains a person/place/thing/event. (Player 1’s cards might be School Cafeteria, Carnival Workers, Abe Lincoln, Wine Tasting, Meat Cleavers, Men, and The Oscars… Player 2’s cards might be Celine Dion, Pumping Iron, Bankruptcy, Large Mouth Bass, Pirates, Swiss Bank Accounts, and Flying Monkeys… etc.) Then the Judge picks a card that most often contains a random adjective (for example, “mysterious”). The Players’ goal is to play the one card of their 7 that best fits with the Judge’s card. So when the Judge says “mysterious”, Player 1 is thinking “well… Carnival Workers are pretty mysterious…” and Player 2 is thinking “Swiss Bank Accounts are mysterious…” and hilarity ensues. The Judge then picks the Player’s card he/she likes the best.

Got it? Good. Last night, the Judge’s card was “miserable”, and I was holding a card that simply said “AIDS.” I figured I couldn’t possibly lose that round. What could possibly be more miserable than AIDS?! The Judge chose someone else’s card, “vomiting”, essentially claiming that vomiting is more miserable than AIDS. For the rest of the night, that Judge was constantly peppered with such jabs as “no thanks, I’d rather have AIDS”, and “man, I’d so much rather throw up and feel better in 5 minutes than get a common cold and slowly die over a period of 15 years…” What a great game. I highly recommend it.

What great friends. I wouldn’t trade the life I have right now for anything, but it sure is good to hang out with old friends every now and then. I laughed harder last night than I have in many many years.

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My First Cavity

Earlier this month, I went to the dentist for my first cleaning in at least 4+ years. I had an emergency dental visit back in November, but other than that, I know that the last time I visited a dentist was to get my wisdom teeth pulled, and that happened in the fall of 2002. The dental assistance was very kind- she even went so far as to say “well, they aren’t the worst I’ve ever seen”, which made me feel good… there was probably some hobo who won a free cleaning a few years ago or something. Then Dr. Filipkowski (probably pronounced KRY-ZOO-SKEE) told me I had my first cavity.

I’ve been dreading this morning’s appointment ever since that fateful day. All I knew was that I’d get a shot in my gum and my tooth would get drilled. Sounds like fun. (Some of you readers know firsthand just how good I am with needles. That bad heroin experience has tainted me…) I’ve been trying not to think about this mornings scheduled filling, and I intentionally showed up as close to on-time as I could, just to minimize time in the waiting room. I ended up being about 5 minutes late for my appointment, and within 3 minutes of arrival was in the chair of death. Thus far, things were going just as I had planned… I had no time to think about needles or drills or any other sharp pointy objects.

Without telling me what he was doing, the dentist started messing around inside my mouth, and I started to go numb. Then there was a break in the action, and I asked him what he just did. He said, “Well… I just gave you a shot, so you probably won’t feel what happens next…” I had no idea… I felt no needle in my gums. Doctor Dude then began to drill and fill and within 20 minutes I was out the door and on the way home to play with The Tobe. Zero pain.

The plan is to not get any more cavities… my stupid days of going to the dentist once per decade are over. But if I do end up with the need for additional fillings, I won’t be afraid of the dentist. What a relief. I’m such a wuss.

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Tomorrow at Church…

…I will be leading the band through Andrew Peterson’s “Behold the Lamb of God” album. I know it is last minute, but if you don’t have church plans for the morning, I can almost assure you that you will love it. I’m no Andrew Peterson, and our band isn’t a bunch of Nashville studio session players, but believe me when I say this: tomorrow morning is guaranteed to not suck, or your money back. And since church is free… well, you know… you ain’t gettin’ no cheese back…

We will be telling the Christmas story in song, but it’s not just the “Jesus was born in a manger…” message that you’ve heard a million times. We will start way back in the Old Testament, through Kings and Isaiah, we’ll talk about Joseph and Mary… man… I’m all goosebumped up just thinking about the greatest story ever.

Our service times are 9:30 and 11:00 tomorrow (Sunday) morning. (Or for you military folk, 930 and 1100 hours.) 6420 Bridgetown Rd, zip=45248. Wake up and worship the King.

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Office Gift Exchange (addendum)

Hypothetical situation:

Let’s say there’s a hypothetical office gift exchange. A hypothetical employee, let’s call him Scott, has the opportunity to steal any gift available. The only available gift that Scott has any desire to steal happens to be the same gift that he brought to participate in the event. No one knew Scott brought that specific gift. Is it acceptable for Scott to steal the gift he brought? I need to know, so please leave a comment.

Not that I did that today. I mean… not that the hypothetical employee named Scott did that today… ummm… I gotta go…

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Office Gift Exchange

My first year with the company, Janet mentioned she wasn’t going to the company Christmas party because it was a long drive. Since she lives close to me, I offered to give her a ride if she wanted to go. Robyn and I took her, and for the next several weeks my co-workers were mad at me for bringing her. These days, I understand a little better.

The last time I talked to Janet, she was telling me that a woman in Texas just gave birth to a 38 pound baby. I told her that was impossible, and she got all offended and stormed off. Some quick googling gave me confidence that I was right, considering the largest babies I could find on the internet were in the low 20-pound range. She was offended that I told her she was wrong.

Janet was my co-worker until she retired last summer. Today, I found out what I already thought was true: nobody liked Janet. She is a very outspoken “Christian” woman who seems to think it is her business to publicly damn anyone who does anything wrong (especially gambling and alcohol), regardless of how messed up her life is. I understand why people don’t like her… she’s incredibly difficult. She spoke down at pretty much everyone in the office. I tried on several occasions to befriend her, but it was rough.

At the Christmas 2003 Office Gift Exchange, Janet got pissed when someone “stole” the lottery tickets that she received. Gambling is totally wrong… yet she wanted those scratchoffs and acted like a 5-year-old when she didn’t get her way. She also publicly villified a co-worker who gifted a bottle of wine in the exchange.

At the Christmas 2oo4 Office Gift Exchange, Janet literally had a meltdown. She didn’t even bring a gift, but she wanted to be part of the action. A co-worker (the guy who prompted us to call Toby a ‘goat’) gave her a bottle of Asti he received as a gift earlier that same day so that she could be in the exchange. Alcohol is totally wrong… yet she accepted the bottle so that she could get what she wanted. When she opened a very nice homemade ornament, she said “I don’t want this damn thing” for all the world to hear. You could hear a pin drop. Imagine how the person who made the ornament felt! Janet then proceeded to get up out of her chair and try to steal someone else’s gift. She had to be physically restrained and told that it wasn’t her turn anymore. Amazing.

Today, we had the annual Exchange. One of the ‘gifts’ was a framed photograph of Janet. Everyone was cracking up. For the next 10 minutes, most of the office was engaged in a “we’re so glad she’s gone” discussion, reliving Janet’s worst moments as an employee. What a sad legacy. I hope they don’t talk about me like that when I’m gone.

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Couch Chronicles

One week after offering to give a quality sleeper sofa to whomever wanted it, the old couch is gone and the new couch is here. The new couch came from the place with Anthony Munoz and the annoying midget, and was sold to us by a saleswoman who said she has a son named Scott and a daughter named Robyn. Gotta love some salesfolk…

Anywho, we decided upon a potential new couch, then decided that the potential new couch wouldn’t match up with the living room paint color, so we then decided that we liked the potential new couch more than we liked the actual living room paint color, so we bought the couch and painted the living room. I wonder if this is a common way to buy furniture, to buy items that force further remodeling action? So the new living room is a huge improvement from the old living room.
A friend of a friend (henceforth to be referred to as “Foaf”) has fallen on hard times lately, and has essentially nothing to his name. Foaf lives in a part of town that I would not want to get lost in at night. (I know this because I’ve been lost in Foaf’s part of town at night and was much afeared.) He asked for the couch, I said heck yeah but will you arrange to pick it up, he said yeah, I said cool. A few days went by, no phone call from Foaf, so I called Foaf, and Foaf gave some lame excuses why he wasn’t able to take care of business.

To make a long story a little shorter, all Foaf had to do was make a phone call at some point over a period of 5 days, and he didn’t do it. Foaf didn’t have a bed or a couch in his apartment, this piece of furniture would provide both, so I figured he’d take the initiative. I figured wrong. Last night, Ceen, Clifton, and I delivered the couch. I even picked him up from elsewhere to take him to his apartment so we could deliver the couch. I was starting to understand why Foaf had fallen on hard times.

Foaf is a really nice guy, and I hope all the reaching out that has been done for him helps him get his life back together. At the very least, he now has something a little more substantial than the air mattress on the floor that he’s used to.

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Seeking Return of Item

I leant my Andrew Peterson “Behold The Lamb Of God” CD out to someone a while back. It is by far my favorite CD ever, and I’d REALLY like to get it back. My wife would also REALLY like me to get it back. So, before I call it a loss and go out and buy another copy, do any of you faithful readers have it or know who does?

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Sins I Do vs. Sin I Have (part 2)

Still on my mind… I had lunch with a good friend in Walnut Hills today. He works at my company’s corporate office, where I used to co-op. We try to get together at least a couple times each year.

(Sidenote: Popeye’s is the best fast food ever. Great chicken. Real dang good catfish. Good biscuits. Good spicy side dishes. Mmmmmmmmmmm… This is why I can’t find my way back down under 200 pounds… end sidenote.)

I shared with him my current thoughts on sin, as discussed here 18 hours ago. He shared his current thoughts on what it means to have a relationship with God… how we should treat a friendship with God with even higher regard than we treat our other valued relationships.

We both prompted each other to evaluate ourselves. He with sin, and me with relationships. Throughout the day at work, I talk to Robyn a few times. As soon as I get home from work, I say hello to her and I play with my son. I try to keep up with all my human friends… but I spend very little time or effort talking and playing with God.

(“Human friends”? Man… I sound like I’ve gone off the deep end… Scotty has a friendship with God, and he has human friendships, and then he has a few friendships with aliens from other planets… I’m going to bed…)

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My Neighbor’s House

My wife and I aren’t below the poverty line, but we certainly aren’t rich, either. As I’ve said on several occasions, one mustn’t go very far down the road to find folks who have much less.

Similarly, from my front porch, I can see one of the most impressive mansions in the nation. My house is less than a stone’s throw from the 20,000 square foot Laurel Court‘s property line. 20,000 square feet?! That does not include the underground tunnels leading to the other buildings on the property! It does, however, include the atrium with a removable glass dome. Supposedly, this place cost well in excess of $500k to build… in 1907! I’ve been to the Biltmore Estate in Asheville, NC. The interior of Mr. Vanderbilt’s castle looks alot like these images of my neighbor’s house. (Just for the record, my humble abode was here before the mansion was…)

While poverty is just down the street, so is extreme wealth. I could take a guided tour of my neighbor’s house for the bargain price of $16. Sheesh. What a weird area this is to live in… I could witness a serious crime while walking across the street to tour a palace…

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