I have absolutely Earth-shattering news to share with you this afternoon. News so wonderful, so extremely mind-blowing, that all of us at the Ward castle are pinching ourselves in wonder. In fact I've avoided writing about this for nearly a week, in fear of jinxing the whole thing.
Little Michael is finally and assuredly a fully-functioning toilet user (if you catch my drift)! He no longer needs special padded devices around his tushy when nature comes a-callin' (if you know what I mean). He knows exactly "Who Number 2 works for!," as Austin Powers so eloquently stated (if you see where I'm going with this).
Those without children cannot possibly grasp the tear-inducing joy this particular accomplishment produces. "So what? You're kid can sit on the throne. Big deal!," you say to yourself in blissful ignorance.
Well, after three to four years of shelling out $17 every two weeks for the privilege of wiping bottoms and "cleaning up the mess," watching your little bundle of joy sit on the potty and tend to business ranks up there with wedding days, graduations and every Christmas gift you cherish from childhood.
Just trust me on this.
The Ward castle endured a rather lengthy battle with little Michael on this particular issue. Far past the time when he should have mastered the art of the toilet, Michael decided he would only make half the journey. He agreed to use the toilet for Number One. He steadfastly refused, however, to part with diapers when the time came for Number 2. He adopted a lawyer's grit, citing Supreme Court cases and several state laws to make his argument. April and I felt helpless against his stubborn refusals and witty banter.
We tried everything. Stickers. Praise. Mini-toilets. Free tickets to the Super Bowl. Nothing worked. He simply refused to sit on the toilet. Just when all hope seemed lost, and I was trying to figure out a way for Michael to obtain a college degree while taking "diaper breaks," little Michael nonchalantly strolled up and announced, "Daddy, I want to go poo-poo in the toilet."
More beautiful words were never uttered. I wiped the tears from my eyes and hooked up his "Go Diego Go" toilet seat with lightning speed. My hands shaking with suspense. Michael casually sat down, grabbed his toy laptop computer, and went to work. It was glorious!
So now I've got a drawer full of unneeded diapers and a heart filled with love and pride. Little Michael has done it! My boy has done it!!!!!
Count your blessings, no matter how trivial or how small, kiddies
- Dave
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
Why hello there gimme money
When last we left off, I was relaying the tale of my transformation from bored stay-at-homer, to completely overwhelmed aspiring-minister-er. My tale of woe included the upwards of 3,000 committees that I had joined in the span of a week. Nothing has changed on that front. Last week I attended four different committee meetings on four consecutive nights. I exited the last meeting convinced my name was Captain Stewardship hailing from the planet Hymnal and sworn to protect Religious Education Directors throughout the Pacific Northwest Region. Or something.
But the tale gets even better, kiddies. Oh much better indeed! A couple of weeks ago I attended a super high-falutin' meeting with our Board President and the Financial Consultant at a fittingly high-falutin' hotel. I was feeling rather high-falutin' myself as I passed through the plush lobby, with its fancy chairs and nap-inducing jazz music. Little did I know that I was walking directly into a trap.
My interpretation of the meeting was as follows - I would sit down with the President and Consultant and breathe in their wisdom as they heroically hashed out a plan lead our church into financial bliss. I would make witty comments like, "That is a brilliant idea!" and "Yes, I agree."
The actual meeting materialized quite differently. After exchanging pleasantries, the President and Consultant stared straight at me and said, "We would like you to chair the upcoming spring pledge drive." And they said it with a straight face. After I finished choking on my high-falutin' coffee, I managed to turn a shade of white usually reserved for bed sheets.
"Do you have any questions or concerns about this?," the Consultant asked in his best Dr. Phil tone.
"Well," I responded,"I don't know anything about fund raising, and I hate money."
"Oh that's fine. We'll be here to help you," was his response. At least I think that was his response. I couldn't hear very well over the ringing in my ears.
So that is how a stay-at-home Dad, who never made more than $12 an hour as a sports journalist, was put in charge of a spring pledge drive for a church boasting more than 350 members and friends. This should end well, don't you think?
Also, while I'm rushing to different meetings every night, and pulling my hair out trying to figure out what I'm doing, April has managed to land a new job. The GREAT news is that she will be working in a brand new office just five minutes from our house. This will eliminate the two hours of commuting each day at her current job. The BAD news is that she's currently trying to manage both her old office and her new one simultaneously. And her boss has been too busy taking rafting trips to offer any assistance.
You can imagine the fun times at our house each evening. Dad pacing the hallways and mumbling to himself about pledge forms, personal visits and brochures. Mom is a few steps behind uttering phrases like, "Why haven't the chairs come in yet?," and "Red? Why would they paint the walls red?!"
The worst part about all of this craziness is that poor little Michael has entered into a "What are we going to do today?" stage. He follows me around asking one question, "What are we going to do today?" This sounds fairly simple, right? Just answer his question and all will be well. If only it were that simple.
"We're going to color some pictures," I answer.
"What are we going to do after that?," Michael responds without missing a beat.
"Um, read some stories," I answer again.
"What are we going to do after that?"
And round and round it goes. Eventually Michael starts crying in dismay. Not because he doesn't want to color pictures. But because you can't think of what he is going to do after coloring pictures, reading stories, eating a snack, playing at the park, residing the house, painting a masterpiece, counting every jelly bean in a jar, sorting the counted jelly beans by color, memorizing Gone With the Wind, and establishing peace in the Middle East.
It's safe to say I am no longer bored. Which is a good thing, I guess. I'll leave you today with one final question -
Do ya got any money kiddies?
- Dave
But the tale gets even better, kiddies. Oh much better indeed! A couple of weeks ago I attended a super high-falutin' meeting with our Board President and the Financial Consultant at a fittingly high-falutin' hotel. I was feeling rather high-falutin' myself as I passed through the plush lobby, with its fancy chairs and nap-inducing jazz music. Little did I know that I was walking directly into a trap.
My interpretation of the meeting was as follows - I would sit down with the President and Consultant and breathe in their wisdom as they heroically hashed out a plan lead our church into financial bliss. I would make witty comments like, "That is a brilliant idea!" and "Yes, I agree."
The actual meeting materialized quite differently. After exchanging pleasantries, the President and Consultant stared straight at me and said, "We would like you to chair the upcoming spring pledge drive." And they said it with a straight face. After I finished choking on my high-falutin' coffee, I managed to turn a shade of white usually reserved for bed sheets.
"Do you have any questions or concerns about this?," the Consultant asked in his best Dr. Phil tone.
"Well," I responded,"I don't know anything about fund raising, and I hate money."
"Oh that's fine. We'll be here to help you," was his response. At least I think that was his response. I couldn't hear very well over the ringing in my ears.
So that is how a stay-at-home Dad, who never made more than $12 an hour as a sports journalist, was put in charge of a spring pledge drive for a church boasting more than 350 members and friends. This should end well, don't you think?
Also, while I'm rushing to different meetings every night, and pulling my hair out trying to figure out what I'm doing, April has managed to land a new job. The GREAT news is that she will be working in a brand new office just five minutes from our house. This will eliminate the two hours of commuting each day at her current job. The BAD news is that she's currently trying to manage both her old office and her new one simultaneously. And her boss has been too busy taking rafting trips to offer any assistance.
You can imagine the fun times at our house each evening. Dad pacing the hallways and mumbling to himself about pledge forms, personal visits and brochures. Mom is a few steps behind uttering phrases like, "Why haven't the chairs come in yet?," and "Red? Why would they paint the walls red?!"
The worst part about all of this craziness is that poor little Michael has entered into a "What are we going to do today?" stage. He follows me around asking one question, "What are we going to do today?" This sounds fairly simple, right? Just answer his question and all will be well. If only it were that simple.
"We're going to color some pictures," I answer.
"What are we going to do after that?," Michael responds without missing a beat.
"Um, read some stories," I answer again.
"What are we going to do after that?"
And round and round it goes. Eventually Michael starts crying in dismay. Not because he doesn't want to color pictures. But because you can't think of what he is going to do after coloring pictures, reading stories, eating a snack, playing at the park, residing the house, painting a masterpiece, counting every jelly bean in a jar, sorting the counted jelly beans by color, memorizing Gone With the Wind, and establishing peace in the Middle East.
It's safe to say I am no longer bored. Which is a good thing, I guess. I'll leave you today with one final question -
Do ya got any money kiddies?
- Dave
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
