Say CHEESE!

Today's writing prompt is brought to us by the good people at Writers Write.

Years ago, when my daughter was teenager, she and I shared a loved activity. I have always dabbled with taking pictures and trying to be a bit artistic about it. I've never owned a decent camera and I'm nowhere near professional level, but I have always gotten great compliments about the photos I took.

My daughter did the same but also loved having her picture taken. These two activities go very easily together.

When we had a free weekend, we would often grab a couple of her friends and take a road trip somewhere. I would get to snap hundreds of pictures. They got to be models for the day and we all got to see someplace new.

Kirsten being a window mannequin.

Kirsten and Taylor under a railroad bridge.

Sometimes Photoshop was used afterward.

Always been a fan of graffiti.

During her emo phase.

So sad.

Kirsten and Kayli in a sculpture park.

A little overdressed for the lake.

I love this photo.

We had a habit of breaking into abandoned houses.

My son didn't usually take this activity as seriously.

As much as I loved taking these pictures and trying to come up with creative places to go and angles to use, the best part was hanging out with my daughter and her friends. It was a lot of fun. Plus, it happened during those teenage years when it is typically difficult to get time with your kids. We got lucky and found an activity that we both enjoyed and were able to share it together.

Unfortunately, sometimes we took pictures in less than safe or legal locations. We trespessed into abandoned houses, factories, and hospitals. We loved old decrepit buildings. Now as an adult, she is still breaking and entering onto private property. My bad!

Today, I live twelve time zones away from my children. They are grown now and and have their own lives. And I am quite content with where I am now and what I am doing, but I miss these times with my kids. We get the occasional phone call together, but that's all we can do. I'm not someone who gets homesick, but I would love to see them more often.

Hopefully, they can come see me here sometimes. I live right on the coast in central Vietnam. I am surrounded by natural beauty. I would love to take my daughter out for another photoshoot in this part of the world.

My son and I could just hit the bar. A beer here is less than a quarter.

Z is for Zoo Fun

As a participant in the A to Z Blogging Challenge, I will be making my way through the alphabet all month.

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When my children were younger, (by younger I mean young enough that they still appreciated their father and hadn't learned how to talk back yet) we would take weekly road trips. I had a job where I worked long hours and didn't see the family much during the week, but I always had weekends off and we liked to spend it on the road. Every Saturday, we would load up the car, head to Huck's to grab some gas station road trip food (mini tacos, egg rolls, sodas, etc.) and hit the road.

Some days, we ended up in a state park. A few times we stumbled onto a small town festival. Other times, we would drive into a big city. Often, we didn't even have a destination in mind when we left the house. We would just pick a direction and start driving. I loved these trips.

One particular Saturday, we decided to head to the zoo. When it comes to zoo trips, we were really lucky. We lived in southern Illinois at the time and the St. Louis Zoo was less than 90 minutes away. This is the zoo I grew up going to and it spoiled me for other zoos. It is ranked as one of the best zoos in the entire country, so I always end up disappointed when I am visiting someone in another part of the country and we end up at a lesser zoo. Our zoo was awesome. Suck it, Cleveland.

I was particularly excited for this trip because my kids were at that magical age. Kirsten was two and Christian was six. They would think the animals were the coolest things in the world to get to see. Plus, it was spring time and we had been looking forward to getting out of the house after the long winter.

Once we got there, we headed to the exhibit I always insist that we visit first. THE PENGUINS! I love penguins. I always have. This practice of seeing the penguins as soon as we get there first started when I was a child and I still do it when I go back to visit. After I see the penguins, I don't care where we go. I am happy.

I couldn't wait to share these magnificent birds with the kids and hurried them into the penguin house. As soon as we got inside, I unstrapped Kirsten from her stroller, put her up on my shoulders and turned around to see this:

Chicka-Chicka-Wa-Waa

"OK, let's see what's happening on the other side of the enclosure."

We moved further down to get away from the happy couple and were met with another public penguin porn performance. However, this time it was more like a penguin orgy. There were at least half a dozen penguin couples getting an early jump on the day…and each other. As much as I love penguins, I decided that maybe we should come back later. I don't allow guests in my bedroom to watch without paying admission and since the St. Louis Zoo is free, this just didn't feel right. Plus, I had my kids with me.

We worked our way up the hill to Big Cat Country to take in the jungle cats. My kids lost interest in the leopard pretty quickly because it just sat there.  The panther couldn't be seen, but the tigers were much more playful.

In the very next enclosure, the lions were up to the same thing. My wife commented that the animals seem to be enjoying the spring time weather as much as we were.

About 20 minutes later, we learned that the monkey house was not the place to be right now either. I will spare you the pictures. They are much more graphic.

We left the zoo after being there less than two hours, but in that time we got to see elephants, buffalo, three different species of bear, antelopes and even snakes getting it on. We decided that in future years, we would wait until later in the season to visit the zoo.

Sign, Pole ... MAILBOX!!! - Revisited

Some of you may have noticed that my blogging has slowed down. Well, not really slowed down, but came to a screeching halt. My daughter would say a mugging halt, but I don't really know what that means. I love my blog and have no intention of stopping. However, after the A to Z Challenge in April, I felt that I needed a break. Plus, my graduate studies have kicked in harder.

I will start writing again soon, but in the meantime, I have picked up a lot of new followers and need to put up material. So, I will be posting some of my older posts starting today. The following was originally posted on September 20, 2012.

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What to do? What to do?

School has been in session for a month and I have been broke for that entire time. The money issue has recently been resolved, but I still have this cloud floating over my head. Since summer is over, it's time to settle in and get serious about life for a while. I haven't really had much of a choice. Between both my daughter's school schedule and my own, plus not having any money, we haven't done much. This isn't truly a bad thing, but I think the awesome summer I just had and the abrupt halt to all the fun is bringing the winter doldrums on early. I'm getting a little stir crazy.

I've been reflecting on past trips and remembering several taken when the kids were younger. It used to be our tradition to take a small trip every Saturday. We usually kept it under a hundred mile radius, but it was something fun to do on a weekend. However, having small children was often a challenge on car trips. They traveled well, but sometimes I had to come up with something to busy their minds.

One car game that lasted for several years was born out of madness one morning. I married Christian's mother when he was three years old and it took him and I a little while to hit it off. You can read about our rocky relationship here and here. One day, I was driving into town and he was doing what he usually did when we were alone in the car. He crawled out of his car seat and was curled up in a ball on the passenger side floor.

He cried about being hungry.

He cried that we weren't going to see Grandpa.

He cried about forgetting his favorite toy at home.

He cried because his shoe fell off.

This was one of those days that I was trying not to pull out my hair and chuck him through the window. I was stressed and could feel the tension mounting more and more as he found new things to whine about. I was biting through my lip as his most recent wail reached a pitch that caused the dogs we passed to start howling. Suddenly, I had an epiphany. Small children are stupid.

It couldn't be too hard to distract him despite his thinking his life was in shambles. I looked around in desperation for an idea. Then, I saw it on the road ahead and started pointing. "Look, Christian, a mailbox."

Christian paused mid-sob as he raised his snot encrusted face. "What?"

"Right there, on the side of the road. There's a mailbox. We have one of those."

He popped up into the seat to see what had me so excited. Once he saw it, he forgot what he was upset about and smiled.

"Oh, Christian, look. There's another one"

He pointed at it and laughed. I innocently asked, "I wonder if there's more."

Who knew they were so much fun?

For the next twenty minutes, we pointed out all the mailboxes we saw. I made sure to let him find several of them first since it wasn't his fault I was smarter and more observant than him. Later, when his mom was in the car, he kept pointing out the mailboxes to us. She didn't question it.

This became our regular routine when in the car together. It kept him busy and more importantly kept him in a much better mood. However, mailboxes aren't always as plentiful as I would have liked them to be. If we hit a stretch of highway with no houses, he would revert back to his whiny ways, so I added telephone poles and eventually signs.

Any type of sign would work. Billboards, stop signs and mile markers were all fair game. So, trips in our car sounded like this: SIGN, SIGN, POLE, SIGN, MAILBOX, POLE, MAILBOX, SIGN, SIGN, SIGN, POLE, MAILBOX, POLE, SIGN!

As time went on, we began to apply rules to the game.

1. You could not identify a sign, pole or mailbox that someone had already pointed out.
2. Every 10 miles, someone was allowed to add something to the list (i.e. swimming pool, satellite dish, dog, etc.)
3. In the event of a disagreement, the loudest person would get the point
4. Kirsten was the only person allowed to identify water towers.

Once Kirsten was born and started playing this game that had been evolving for years, we gave water tower sightings to her. However, Christian loved to point them out as soon as he saw them (even when we weren't playing) and send Kirsten into crying fits. "Bubby took my tower. Those are mine!"

ME: "Christian, you know those belong to your sister. Give her back the tower."

CHRISTIAN: (pouting) "But I saw it first."

ME: "The mailboxes are yours. Her seat is not high enough to be able to see them. Give it back."

KIRSTEN: (throwing a toy at his face) "Yeah, Poopy Head. It's mine."

CHRISTIAN: "You can have it, Sissy."

KIRSTEN: (looking around) "Now I can't see it." (starts crying again)

Once getting that taken care of the game sounded like this:
(EVERYONE YELLING) SIGN, MAILBOX, POLE, POLE, THAT ONE'S MINE, SIGN, MAILBOX, SATELLITE, POLE, MAILBOX, DOG, SIGN, OH WAIT IT WAS TWO DOGS, SIGN, SIGN, MAILBOX, ANOTHER DOG, SATELLITE, DOG, NOPE THAT WAS A SMALL HORSE, MAILBOX, POLE, SIGN, POLE, CHIMNEY, THAT WAS LAST WEEK, NO CHIMNEYS, SIGN, POLE, SIGN, SIGN, MAILBOX, WATER TOWER

 CHRISTIAN, STOP IT!

"Z" is for Zoo

When my children were younger, (by younger I mean young enough that they still appreciated their father and hadn't learned how to talk back yet) we would take weekly road trips. I had a job where I worked long hours and didn't see the family much during the week, but I always had weekends off and we liked to spend it on the road. Every Saturday, we would load up the car, head to Huck's to grab some gas station road trip food (mini tacos, egg rolls, sodas, etc.) and hit the road.

Some days, we ended up in a state park. A few times we stumbled onto a small town festival. Other times, we would drive into a big city. Often, we didn't even have a destination in mind when we left the house. We would just pick a direction and start driving. I loved these trips.

One particular Saturday, we decided to head to the zoo. When it comes to zoo trips, we are really lucky. We live in southern Illinois and the St. Louis Zoo is less than 90 minutes away. This is the zoo I grew up going to and it spoiled me for other zoos. It is ranked as one of the best zoos in the entire country, so I always end up disappointed when I am visiting someone in another part of the country and we end up at a lesser zoo. Our zoo is awesome. Suck it, Cleveland.

I was particularly excited for this trip because my kids were at that magical age. Kirsten was two and Christian was six. They would think the animals were the coolest things in the world to get to see. Plus, it was spring time and we had been looking forward to getting out of the house after the long winter.

Once we got there, we headed to the exhibit I always insist that we visit first. THE PENGUINS! I love penguins. I always have. This practice of seeing the penguins as soon as we get there first started when I was a child and I still do it when I go back to visit. After I see the penguins, I don't care where we go. I am happy.

I couldn't wait to share these magnificent birds with the kids and hurried them into the penguin house. As soon as we got inside, I unstrapped Kirsten from her stroller, put her up on my shoulders and turned around to see this:

Chicka-Chicka-Wa-Waa

"OK, let's see what's happening on the other side of the enclosure."

We moved further down to get away from the happy couple and were met with another public penguin porn performance. However, this time it was more like a penguin orgy. There were at least half a dozen penguin couples getting an early jump on the day…and each other. As much as I love penguins, I decided that maybe we should come back later. I don't allow guests in my bedroom to watch without paying admission and since the St. Louis Zoo is free, this just didn't feel right. Plus, I had my kids with me.

We worked our way up the hill to Big Cat Country to take in the jungle cats. My kids lost interest in the leopard pretty quickly because it just sat there.  The panther couldn't be seen, but the tigers were much more playful.

In the very next enclosure, the lions were up to the same thing. My wife commented that the animals seem to be enjoying the spring time weather as much as we were.

About 20 minutes later, we learned that the monkey house was not the place to be right now either. I will spare you the pictures. They are much more graphic.

We left the zoo after being there less than two hours, but in that time we got to see elephants, buffalo, three different species of bear, antelopes and even snakes getting it on. We decided that in future years, we would wait until later in the season to visit the zoo.

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Happily participating in the Blogging from A to Z Challenge. For the entire month of April, 1,656 bloggers are working their way through the alphabet. One letter every day but Sundays for a total of 26 days.

Click here to visit the website and get more information to see if you might want to join in next year. It's a lot of fun, introduces you to hundreds of new blogs and gives your writing some fantastic exposure.

YAY!!! I made it!!!

Pretty Blue Toenails

This post is a response to Finish the Sentence Friday...
at Can I Get Another Bottle of Whine with My Morning Quiet Time?

This weeks question:
One time when I was bored out of my mind…

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When I was in college, I was what the college labeled a 'non-traditional' student. I was not considered traditional because I was over 25 years old. I could also get that label from having children. The third way was to be married. I met all three of those criteria. I was a 30 year old married man with two kids.

While I have no regrets about going back to college, I will advise people that what I did is NOT the way to do it. Do what you have to do, but if you have the opportunity to plan it out, do college first. Turning in poop stained term papers from changing a diaper while doing your homework is always a possibility otherwise. Most professors will mark off for a paper that literally stinks.

I had always thought of myself as still a young person until I had this adventure. The kids (and I choose that term purposefully) I sat in class with did not relate to my life. I made a few friends, but we were at different places in maturity. Plus, in the summertime, they all left campus and went home. We had actually moved there and lived in married student housing. The campus was our home year round. Technically, we lived on campus despite it not being in the dorms and in the summertime the place was dead.

I enjoyed my years at school, but without classes to go to the summers left us with a lot of free time. I often found myself doing things I would never normally do, but I had time to kill. It was this extra time that lead to a moment that I am less than proud of.

Our third summer in college, my daughter was four years old and had just discovered make up and understood the concept of getting pretty and playing dress up. Of course, she hadn't started wearing make up yet, but sometimes her mother and her would play with lipstick, blush and mascara. Kirsten loved doing this.

One Saturday morning, Kirsten brought me some nail polish and wanted me to paint her toenails. I had done this a few times before and had actually gotten pretty good at it. I kept the colors inside the lines and everything. Once I got her toes looking all pretty, she asked if she could do mine.

Not my feet, but best picture I could find of color.

She didn't normally get to play with fingernail polish because of the huge potential for a mess, especially in the hands of a four year old, but I decided to let her have a little more fun. So, we stepped out onto the balcony and I let her do my toenails. It may not be the most manly thing to do, but I was bonding with my daughter…AND for a four year old, she did a marvelous job. We cleaned up the spots were she got a little off target and when it was finished, they looked pretty good. I now had sparkly blue toenails.

We sat outside and drank sweet tea while we let our nails dry. It was a beautiful day, we had just had a good time together and I didn't give what I had done a second thought…until my wife saw them. After she finished laughing, she gave me a hard time about it, but it was soon forgotten.

The next day, I was out in the playground with my kids. Soon, a few other fathers came to join us and it wasn't long until one of them looked down at my bare feet and commented on my pretty toes. He called out for everyone within earshot to come look at my feet.

Knowing that I had been discovered and also knowing that I was amongst friends, I proudly showed them off and withstood all the teasing, well aware that it was going to come for a long time after this. I decided right then that when I went back in the house, I needed to take the time to remove the polish. I didn't regret putting it on, but there was no reason to keep it.

When lunchtime came around, I gathered my kids and started back to my apartment. As I rounded the corner, I ran into the Dean of Students. He had come by to welcome a few new families who would be starting in the fall. We exchanged a few pleasantries and he suddenly stopped talking as he glanced down and noticed my toes sparkling in the sun. He just stared at them silently for a few seconds as I tried to curl my toes under my feet.

When he looked up again, he slowly finished what he was saying and excused himself. He didn't ask about the polish and I didn't offer any explanation. In fact, I don't think I said a word. I just stood there. Red-faced.

I removed the polish as soon as I got back to the apartment. The Dean has still never asked about the blue toes.

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One time when I was bored out of my mind…I polished my toenails.

2013 Goals

By 2013 Goals I don't mean 2,013 different goals. I am referring to goals for the year 2013. You may have figured that out on your own, but I just wanted to make it clear.

I don't generally make resolutions and I am not about to now. However, I do have some things in mind that I would like to accomplish in the upcoming year. Setting goals for yourself is not the same thing as making resolutions. Resolutions usually involve trying to improve yourself in some way. Since I wouldn't even begin to know where to start with that, I will let it slide. Plus, admitting any type of fault that needs to be worked on might cause Red to see a flaw in me that she is not aware of at this moment and I am going to try to maintain this perfect image she has of me for as long as possible.

Once again, resolutions involve making some sort of personal improvement. A goal is something you would like to accomplish and I do have a few of those in mind.

• My first class in the TESOL graduate program just started yesterday. I intend to never receive any grades lower than a 97% for the entire program. You can believe I will keep you posted, especially every time I meet that goal in a new class.
• Last year (2012) was a wonderful year. A large part of that was due to meeting Red. I know we have not given many updates lately, but things are going beautifully. I am making it a personal goal to make this year the best year she has ever had.
• In August 2011, I created The List. It is my list of things to accomplish before I die. Of the 150+ items I have on that list, I have only marked off one in the 17 months since I first posted it. This year, I will average at least one list item per month for a total of twelve or more before the end of the year.
• I want to maintain a steady blogging schedule. 120 posts for the year would break down to 2.3076923 posts per week. That's one post every 3.04167 days. Why does this have to be so complicated?
• I will read fifty books this year. This is close to one a week. It is not a lofty goal, but with me being in school, it should keep me reading things other than just my textbooks.

On a side note and totally unrelated to anything else so far, I have a request. Today, January 4th is my daughter Kirsten's birthday. She will be 17 and is very excited to be old enough to go to rated R movies on her own.

Sometimes, I think I should do my homework.. but I also sometimes think I should do crystal meth, but then I think... ehh, better not.
— Kirstey Minor (@KirsteyDahl) December 17, 2012

After you leave this page would you take the time to leave her a birthday wish either on her Twitter feed @KirsteyDahl or her Facebook Wall (Kirsten Minor). If you would like to make it extra special, include a picture of a windmill. She loves windmills. The bigger the windmill the better. Any picture of a windmill will work, but I included a few here if you would like to use them.

Actually, she doesn't really love windmills. She is scared of them for some reason. So if you think I am being cruel, just send her a Happy Birthday message. On the other hand, if you don't mind torturing teenagers, then send her a windmill also. Either way, she will be thrilled to get a bunch of messages coming her way from people she doesn't know. Since she doesn't read my blog, she won't know where this is coming from.


Happy Birthday, Kirsten!!!

Have a great year everyone.

SNOWPOCALYPSE - Redux

I am down to my last week of class for the semester and have a huge assignment looming over me. When I sat down to write tonight's post, I couldn't concentrate, so here is a post from two years ago. I wrote this in the midst of the huge snow storm two years ago not knowing if we were going to survive.

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For the last few days the National Weather Service has been warning us that the largest storm to hit the area since weather started being recorded in 1886 is coming to kill us all.  The forecast was a few days of ice with up to an inch of accumulation and then 12 to 18 inches of snow.  Since history is about to be made and I knew about it ahead of time, I started chronicling the events for future generations.

January 30, 2011

7:28pm        Arrive at Wal-Mart to stock up for the impending doom.  I get everything on my list, but know there is something I haven’t thought of.

January 31, 2011

12:43pm      Right on time, the ice starts falling from the sky and coating everything.

1:30pm        Central A&M (Kirsten’s school) calls it a day and sends the students home.  Ice continues to fall.

6:30pm        Receive text that Central A&M is cancelled for the following day.

6:32pm        The ice storm stops.

February 1, 2011

5:59am        Receive text that LCU (Lincoln Christian University – my school) is closing for the day.

6:03am        It occurs to me that I take online classes so the closure does not really affect me.

11:18am      The ice starts falling again, but much harder and accompanied by 35 m.p.h. gusts of wind.

12:30pm      Receive text telling me not to come to work that day.

4:25:17pm   The power goes out

4:25:19pm   Hear cursing from next apartment and loud exclamation, “NO!!!  I WAS RIGHT AT THE END OF THE LEVEL!!!  I HAVEN’T SAVED IT!!!”

4:26pm        Locate a flashlight and establish martial law in the apartment.  Do not open the fridge or the front door.

5:05pm        Receive text to not go to work the next day.

5:08pm        Without television, decided to watch the storm out the window.

5:12pm        Observed unprepared neighbor trying to chip the ice off his windshield with a hatchet.

5:19pm        Observed neighbor give up and go back inside.

5:26:03pm   Alex (Kirsten’s boyfriend) offers for us to ride out the outage at his house with his parents.

5:26:12pm    I tell Kirsten I am staying to keep the pipes from freezing and the python since his heat lamp was out and he is cold-blooded.

5:26:17pm   Kirsten leaves me alone in the apartment.

5:48pm        Receive text that Central A&M is canceled for next day.

5:54pm        The sun sets and the apartment is in total darkness.

5:56pm        I stub my toe on kitchen table.

6:03pm        I remember the thing I forgot when I was stocking up for this storm: candles.

6:08pm        I speak to my parents in Florida to let them know what is going on.  They tell me about their new shorts and the fish they caught that day.

6:14pm        I decide not to talk to my parents again until June.

6:18pm        The wind picks up and the trees start breaking off.

6:23pm        I step out into the stairwell to converse with the neighbors about the declaration that people are not allowed to leave town.  Road travel has been forbidden.

6:29pm        The neighbors start drawing straws to determine who has to make a cigarette run.

8:09pm        Our python wakes up and comes out of his resting place to seek out heat.  Since the heat lamp is out, I put him in my sweatshirt.

8:12pm        An ungrateful reptile bites me on the nipple.

8:19pm        I stub my toe in the bathroom.

8:35pm        Receive text from Kirsten that she is ready to come home.  Apparently, she was just going to visit for a while.

8:37pm        Begin scraping windshield.

8:43pm        Wishing I had a hatchet.

8:56pm        Decided that the 2 foot square section I cleared would have to be enough. Started van.

9:03pm        Finally got maneuvered out of parking lot.

9:04pm        Stopped a half-block from the apartment.  Windshield was frozen again.

9:06pm        Discover that I am stuck in the middle of the road.

9:09pm        Got loose in time to have to clean the windshield again.

9:12pm        Used my memory to guess where I was going since I gave up trying to see.

9:17pm        Retrieved Kirsten and battled our way back home.

9:32pm        Arrive at home after this 30 minute adventure.  (Kirsten was only 4 blocks away.)  I should have just walked.

9:54pm        Power comes back on.

9:56pm        While putting flashlight away I find a box of candles.

After 4 hours and 29 minutes, the power is back on and hope is restored.  I pray that my records serve as a guiding light for future generations as they reflect on this dark period.

February 2, 2011

7:08am        Punxsutawney Phil predicts early spring.

A Father's Dreams For His Kids

On November 27, I asked my readers to submit questions for me to answer. I received several questions and have been making my way through them.

This question came from Red's sister, Hestia (not her real name). Since Red likes to remain anonymous online, her family connections are anonymous as well. I have met Hestia one time and she recently became a reader. I assume this was to check out who this guy is that has been after her sister. I don't know how much Hestia has dug through my archives, but hopefully this blog has been a decent representation of who I am. Or maybe not. I am not really sure which would be better. Hopefully, at least the post where I promised not to chop her sister into pieces with an axe will give me some credibility.

Her question:

Since our daughter's are about the same age, What is your greatest desire for her future after living with Dad? Also, if it won't cause trouble with her, what is one of your "OMG, they're just like me" stories about your kids?

My hopes and aspirations for my daughter (both my kids) are pretty simple. I want them to be happy. I am not concerned with accomplishments, what they do for a living, how many kids they have or where they live. If Kirsten marries, I pray that it's to a great guy that will treat her well. Whatever she chooses as a career, I hope she enjoys it and works hard at it.

My biggest hope when they were children was for them to give their lives to the Lord. They have done that, so now I just pray that their lives are happy. That's it.

As for stories about how she is just like me, I have really had to dig back and think.

Kirsten appeared to be an adventure-seeking daredevil like me until she was about seven years old. She wanted to ride the roller coasters. She climbed the biggest rocks and tallest trees. She would jump off the roof into my arms and just seemed to have no fear.

When Kirsten was 5 years old, we drove to St. Louis with my mother to coat my grandmother's roof. While Mom and I were on the roof working in one corner, Kirsten came up the ladder and asked if she could stay. My mother really didn't like her being up there, but since I allowed it she didn't say anything.

Kirsten soon began to notice how nervous my mother became when she wandered too close to the edge. After one of my mother's outbursts to get away from the edge, Kirsten ran right to the corner of the roof and said, "Grandma, I'm fine. Look!" She then leaned over the edge and lifted one foot with her toes hanging over the side.

In that instance, I would say she really imitated the type of behavior I did as a child. However, today she is much different. Physically, she likes to play it safe. Creatively, she will take chances. She is much more artistic and creative than I am or ever have been.

Mentally, I see her struggling with many of the same things I dealt with as a teen. Her mind works differently than most people's. I was the same way. As a teen, I thought I was smarter than everyone else. Now, I realize that I just look at the world differently. Not better, but different. Kirsten still struggles with trying to decide how much of her thought process to divulge to other people knowing that it will probably not be understood or appreciated. I still think in the same way, but over the years have learned how to navigate conversations and read other people better.

I believe most people develop these tendencies over the years as they learn how to censor themselves to promote better acceptance. Unfortunately, it gets in the way of really getting to know others and hinders the thought process as we try to conform to socially acceptable modes of belief, mental process, behavior, and thought.

Hopefully, I am explaining myself well and am not appearing to be arrogant. I am always concerned that I appear conceited when trying to illustrate this for others. Probably because arrogance was my attitude for a long time. Kirsten has expressed the same concern when she has talked about it with me. I believe the way we perceive the world to be the thing we have the most in common.

Hopefully, she learns to embrace this and use it to her advantage quicker than I did. Suppressing it too much will keep her from expressing herself and hinder her relationships and achievements. Looking down on others for not seeing things in the same way will alienate her from people. I have my fingers crossed that she finds the balance quickly.

In the meantime, like me, she is very happy and always has been. She has a positive outlook on life and is ready to tackle the future. She is more socially reserved than myself, but that is probably a good thing. Now that I don't care what anyone thinks, it gets me in plenty of trouble. She isn't there yet.

What Would You Change?

On November 27, I asked my readers to submit questions for me to answer. This post is to answer the question posed by Good Youngman Brown.

How do you feel about death/dying?

If you died this very second, what would be your biggest regret? Biggest success?

These are some deep questions and I am not sure that I have the answers to the second part even after days of careful reflection, but I will try. Let's tackle these one at a time.

I am not scared of dying. Not even a little bit. I know a lot of people say this and I can't speak for them, but I mean it. I may be scared of certain ways of dying. I obviously would be terrified of being slowly swallowed by an anaconda or being trapped in a burning building, but it is the pain associated with that kind of death that would scare me. The death itself does not scare me

I don't bring up my faith on this blog very often, but this question goes right to the heart of it. I know without any doubt what I will be doing after death and it is nothing to fear. I have given my life over to Jesus and declared him as my Lord (Boss). Through following him I have been forgiven of my sins (there have been a lot) against God and other people. Being cleansed of my sin, I can stand in the presence of God in the place He created for me. I am not on a suicide mission, but I can't wait to get there.

That question was the easy part. The second half is the portion I have really struggled with.

REGRETS

• I hate that I have been divorced twice. I despise that as being part of my past. I wouldn't want to just write the past off, but there are many, many regrets associated it. My first marriage was a five month long nightmare that should never have happened. My second was happier at times, but was filled with mistakes, dishonesty, lack of trust and hurtful words on both sides. I have many regrets tied to the entire experience.
• I often reflect on the fact that I am over 40 years old and never gotten my act together career-wise. I have jumped from job to job my entire life and haven't gotten anywhere. I believe that I've finally found my focus and am on track for the first time in my life, but due to past experience I have little confidence that I will stick with it.
• This one is more reflective contemplation than regret, but I look back at how I raised my kids almost daily. Did I do a good job? Did I spend enough time with them? Were they aware of how much I loved them? Despite the turmoil of my marriage, did we provide a happy home? Have I provided them with the tools they will need to survive in the real world? Was I supportive of their dreams or did I crush their spirits? Did I provide the proper balance of discipline? Was I too lenient? Did I mold them into happy, productive, functioning members of the adult world? These are tough questions.

SUCCESSES

• I am proud that I finally completed my degree. I didn't get that piece of paper in my hand until 14 years after I started it, but I got it.
• I am happy that despite whatever other mistakes I have made with my children, they are happy and know how to enjoy life. I am a very positive and happy person and I love that it seems to have rubbed off on them. Their lives will be much easier simply because of that positive attitude.
• My proudest accomplishment is in knowing that my children love the Lord and their eternities have been secured. The most important decision that could be made in their entire lives is already behind them and nothing else matters nearly as much. If I were to die today, that part has been taken care of and we will all see each other again.

This was a hard post to write and I was choked up through most of it, but self-reflection is a good thing. Thank you, Youngman Brown for the questions.

Sign, Pole ... MAILBOX!!!

What to do? What to do?

School has been in session for a month and I have been broke for that entire time. The money issue has recently been resolved, but I still have this cloud floating over my head. Since summer is over, it's time to settle in and get serious about life for a while. I haven't really had much of a choice. Between both my daughter's school schedule and my own, plus not having any money, we haven't done much. This isn't truly a bad thing, but I think the awesome summer I just had and the abrupt halt to all the fun is bringing the winter doldrums on early. I'm getting a little stir crazy.

I've been reflecting on past trips and remembering several taken when the kids were younger. It used to be our tradition to take a small trip every Saturday. We usually kept it under a hundred mile radius, but it was something fun to do on a weekend. However, having small children was often a challenge on car trips. They traveled well, but sometimes I had to come up with something to busy their minds.

One car game that lasted for several years was born out of madness one morning. I married Christian's mother when he was three years old and it took him and I a little while to hit it off. You can read about our rocky relationship here and here. One day, I was driving into town and he was doing what he usually did when we were alone in the car. He crawled out of his car seat and was curled up in a ball on the passenger side floor.

He cried about being hungry.

He cried that we weren't going to see Grandpa.

He cried about forgetting his favorite toy at home.

He cried because his shoe fell off.

This was one of those days that I was trying not to pull out my hair and chuck him through the window. I was stressed and could feel the tension mounting more and more as he found new things to whine about. I was biting through my lip as his most recent wail reached a pitch that caused the dogs we passed to start howling. Suddenly, I had an epiphany. Small children are stupid.

It couldn't be too hard to distract him despite his thinking his life was in shambles. I looked around in desperation for an idea. Then, I saw it on the road ahead and started pointing. "Look, Christian, a mailbox."

Christian paused mid-sob as he raised his snot encrusted face. "What?"

"Right there, on the side of the road. There's a mailbox. We have one of those."

He popped up into the seat to see what had me so excited. Once he saw it, he forgot what he was upset about and smiled.

"Oh, Christian, look. There's another one"

He pointed at it and laughed. I innocently asked, "I wonder if there's more."

Who knew they were so much fun?

For the next twenty minutes, we pointed out all the mailboxes we saw. I made sure to let him find several of them first since it wasn't his fault I was smarter and more observant than him. Later, when his mom was in the car, he kept pointing out the mailboxes to us. She didn't question it.

This became our regular routine when in the car together. It kept him busy and more importantly kept him in a much better mood. However, mailboxes aren't always as plentiful as I would have liked them to be. If we hit a stretch of highway with no houses, he would revert back to his whiny ways, so I added telephone poles and eventually signs.

Any type of sign would work. Billboards, stop signs and mile markers were all fair game. So, trips in our car sounded like this: SIGN, SIGN, POLE, SIGN, MAILBOX, POLE, MAILBOX, SIGN, SIGN, SIGN, POLE, MAILBOX, POLE, SIGN!

As time went on, we began to apply rules to the game.

1. You could not identify a sign, pole or mailbox that someone had already pointed out.
2. Every 10 miles, someone was allowed to add something to the list (i.e. swimming pool, satellite dish, dog, etc.)
3. In the event of a disagreement, the loudest person would get the point
4. Kirsten was the only person allowed to identify water towers.

Once Kirsten was born and started playing this game that had been evolving for years, we gave water tower sightings to her. However, Christian loved to point them out as soon as he saw them (even when we weren't playing) and send Kirsten into crying fits. "Bubby took my tower. Those are mine!"

ME: "Christian, you know those belong to your sister. Give her back the tower."

CHRISTIAN: (pouting) "But I saw it first."

ME: "The mailboxes are yours. Her seat is not high enough to be able to see them. Give it back."

KIRSTEN: (throwing a toy at his face) "Yeah, Poopy Head. It's mine."

CHRISTIAN: "You can have it, Sissy."

KIRSTEN: (looking around) "Now I can't see it." (starts crying again)

Once getting that taken care of the game sounded like this:
(EVERYONE YELLING) SIGN, MAILBOX, POLE, POLE, THAT ONE'S MINE, SIGN, MAILBOX, SATELLITE, POLE, MAILBOX, DOG, SIGN, OH WAIT IT WAS TWO DOGS, SIGN, SIGN, MAILBOX, ANOTHER DOG, SATELLITE, DOG, NOPE THAT WAS A SMALL HORSE, MAILBOX, POLE, SIGN, POLE, CHIMNEY, THAT WAS LAST WEEK, NO CHIMNEYS, SIGN, POLE, SIGN, SIGN, MAILBOX, WATER TOWER

 CHRISTIAN, STOP IT!

Working for the Man

She doesn't look like she would have
homicidal thoughts, but it is a dark
place inside her head.

Another of those milestones has happened that helps to assure me that I am a grown up. My daughter Kirsten has gotten her first job.

She started working at Arby's about two weeks ago and is learning what it means to have a job. She has already gotten to experience the heartache of learning that her friends are getting together and she can't go because she has to work.

So far, she hasn't worked longer than a three hour shift, but still complains when she comes home about how much her feet hurt. I try not to laugh.

She works the cash register and takes orders for people. She's seeing first-hand how nasty and mean some people can be. She has never before had to deal with the public in this manner and is quickly losing her faith in humanity. She already has a disdain for most people and this is just helping to solidify her belief that the world would be a much better place if she were allowed to kill people that ticked her off. Legislation is pending.

Her brother worked at this same restaurant for four years and was instrumental in her getting this job. He didn't want her to get grounded for not finding a job like he did when he was sixteen. He has learned a few things.

Arby's treated Christian well while he was there so I don't have many concerns. There are several places that take advantage of teenage workers knowing that they are new to the work force and don't know any better.

EVIL EVIL EVIL MACHINE

My first job was at Rax, a roast beef place similar to Arby's. They had a clock in/clock out rule that was not fair to the employees, but I didn't realize this until years later. They would round the time cards to the nearest quarter hour, but made sure that it always fell in their favor. When you came to work, you could not clock in until 7 minutes before your shift. If you clocked in a minute earlier, it would round back to the last quarter hour and you would get paid for 7 minutes you hadn't worked. This seemed fair enough, but they timed it that way for clocking out also. If you were scheduled to get off at 10, they would keep you busy until 10:07 to get those 7 free minutes. If you missed it and didn't get to the clock until 10:08, then you had to keep working until 10:22. Once again, to get those 7 free minutes. They did the same for clocking in and out for your breaks. On any given shift, they could get up to 28 minutes of free work out of their employees. Over the course of a pay period you might lose a few hours off every check.

My next job was at Bonanza. I was a busboy. On my first week of work, I got into trouble because I would come in at my scheduled time, clock in and start working. They didn't want their busboys to do that. That wanted us to come in and sit in the break room until we were called. We were required to be there, but were not supposed to clock in until the restaurant got busy enough that we were needed.

That means that I spent many, many hours sitting at work not getting paid. I wasn't allowed to leave, but was not getting paid. They would get us one at a time as the business picked up and occasionally would send someone home after sitting for a few hours. As a teenager, I was happy to go home and not have to work, but hadn't considered that they were demanding my presence, which means they should have been paying me. Years later, I received a check as a result of a class action lawsuit against them because of this illegal practice.

A few years later, I worked the midnight shift at a gas station. I was there by myself and was given a list of things to do every night. Besides this list, I had to take care of customers, watch the pumps to make sure no one drove off, keep the trash taken care of and keep the coffee pots full. Since the station was right off the interstate, there were a lot of customers. I got chewed out every morning when the manager came in and found that I had not completed the list.

I couldn't get him to understand that it was not possible. One of the tasks was to clean the pumps. The way he wanted them cleaned would require about three hours to do them all. That job alone made the list impossible to fulfill. There was about twenty items on the list and three of them were large jobs like the pumps. I honestly could not have completed that list even if I didn't have to worry about customers.

Adults know better and do not normally get taken advantage of in these ways. So when my kids entered the workforce, I tried to keep an eye out to make sure those things did not happen to them. Arby's seems to be a good place to work for a teen and I don't think I have much to worry about. She just needs to learn to deal with people.

Now if I could just get her to bring home roast beef sandwiches like her brother used to.

Apparently, Not Everything Is About Me

I have been really busy the last few weeks. Nothing particularly interesting, just busy. So when I sat down to write, I had to search my memory for a bit to decide what to write about. I eventually came up with something, but want to share a couple of pictures first.

A few days ago I was visiting my friend Brad's house. His son Bradyn was running around the house doing what 2 year olds do. Screaming, laughing and throwing things at the guest. After an hour or so, he began to slow down and sat to watch TV. He curled up in a chair with a doll and was very quiet.

As I got up to leave, I got my first good look at the doll.

His dad says it's Braydyn's favorite and sleeps with it every night. Brad had bought it at a haunted house a few years ago and Bradyn took a liking to it. Brad and his wife eventually decided to just let him have it.

Bradyn plays with trucks and blocks the same as other boys his age, but the nipple-pierced demon is his favorite toy. I will be keeping my eye on this kid.

---

For this next picture, I don't have any story, it just really caught my eye.

A pink Mustang. I'm still not sure how I feel about that.

---

The new school year started last week. Kirsten and I both had a great summer and hated to see it come to an end. However, it has ended and it is time to get back to work. As Kirsten was getting ready for her day, I ran out to the mailbox. In the way back, I noticed some bright colors on the steps by our side door. Since I had not yet put in my contacts, I couldn't tell what it was, but knew it was out of place.

From about 20 feet away, I saw that it was a vase of roses. Now, I am not really a big fan of flowers, but a huge smile immediately came to my face.

In the few seconds it took me to retrieve them, my mind went through a series of thoughts.

WOW! Red sent me flowers! She is so awesome. I love her.

Wait, she's still looking for work and money has been tight, so I doubt she would spend her money this way. Plus, she usually puts more thought into her gifts. I don't think she would send flowers even if she was sending a gift.

These are on the steps of my side door and it is only 7:30 in the morning. A flower company did not deliver these. It must be someone local.

Have I done something nice for someone lately and they want to say thank you?

Do I have a secret admirer?

It wouldn't matter who it was. I am very happy with Red, but it would be flattering. Who sent me these flowers?

I grabbed the flowers and pulled out the card to settle my racing mind.

KIRSTEY? WHAT?!?

It hadn't occurred to me for even a moment that they could have been for someone else. I'm not the only person in this house. Am I really so arrogant, that I could only conceive of the gift being mine. Well, I am that arrogant, but that's not really the point.

I have written in past posts about my daughter dating, but I guess the reality of it isn't really at the forefront of my mind. I have accepted it, but am not really used to it yet.

Crossing State Lines

My daughter Kirsten is sixteen and a junior in high school. She has two years left before she will be headed off to college and I will have this house all to myself. However, today marked one of those milestones that made her want to go right now. Her boyfriend Charles left for college this morning.

His school is about a six hour drive from here in another state, so they will not be seeing each other regularly on weekends. He might make it back home once or twice in a semester. I have split feelings about this.

I have had a couple of years to get used to the idea of my daughter having a boyfriend. I can even witness him kiss her with only a minimal spike in my blood pressure. I have tried to teach my daughter to be strong and independent. I raised her to know who she is and not to ever be defined by her relationship with another person or to allow her tastes, opinions, feelings or desires to be decided by someone else, whether that be a person or societal expectations. She is growing to be that woman and I couldn't be more proud of her.

The topic of Charles leaving for college came up last week over dinner and another adult advised Kirsten to move on and live her life. Do not put her life on hold and wait for him. This advice goes right along with the spirit of the lessons I have taught my daughter over the years and I couldn't agree more....sort of.

While the adult side of me sees the rationale in the advice and I would probably give the same advice to any random teenager, I have a selfish father side as well that wants to protect my daughter. While he is away at college and she decides that he is the man for her, that means she is not dating anyone else. I have absolutely no problem with that. She is basically not dating as long as he is her boyfriend and school is in session. No father would complain with those circumstances.

On the other hand, should a sixteen year old be making this type of commitment? You only get to be young once. Would this be considered putting her life on hold for a boy?

I have decided I have no problem with this and there is one main reason for it. I like this kid. Kirsten has not had a lot of boyfriends, but of the ones she has dated, only two have been quality guys. The last one moved to Georgia. There were a few that were okay. They weren't bad kids, they just took up space. There have been a couple I really did not like. One of them was so bad, I forbid her from ever seeing him again. Yes, I am that type of father. It was for her protection. That kid was trouble.

I wish our culture recognized the wisdom of arranged marriages. Then, I could just forbid her from dating until I found the perfect man for her. I would do a bang-up job, but very very few would make the cut.

The guy she is dating now is great and is the reason I have no problem with this. As long as she considers herself his girlfriend, she is not bringing home some other idiot. Plus, he really is a great kid. His parents were my youth ministers when I was in high school and his father baptized me. I am well aware of the stereotype about preacher's kids, but it is just a general rule of thumb and does not always apply. Charles is attending a Christian college to prepare to be a missionary. He is well mannered, respectful, courteous, never rude and very funny. Most importantly, he treats my daughter very well.

It is these and other qualities that make me happy to see that she is holding on to him. Kirsten is only sixteen and I am not trying to get her married off. It's too soon to think about such things, but one day she will end up with someone. With each guy she has brought home, I couldn't help but imagine what her being married to him would be like. Most of the time, I haven't liked the future I saw for her. Wanting the best for my daughter, I am happy to see that she has found a quality man. As long as she is with him, she is not with some other random douchebag.

I am not suggesting that she needs to marry Charles. Once again, it is too early for that kind of talk, but it is comforting to see that she recognizes what a good guy he is. I am totally supportive of this relationship, but don't tell him.