Happy Turkey Day!

We hope everyone had a glorious Thanksgiving.  We had a lot to be thankful for this year, most notably the birth of our second healthy boy, Gavin.  Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday.  How can it not be everyone's?  We had enough food to feed a small army, football galore and good company to enjoy the day with.  Carrie's family came down to join us this year.  Earlier in the week Carrie and I had one of our good friend's in town from California to spend a few days with before the festivities kicked off.  Blake was in our wedding and probably knows the two of us as a couple best because he was my Florida roommate while Carrie and I were dating.  He saw the ups and downs and had numerous opportunities to play pre-marriage counselor.  It was great having him back at our house not only to play child psychologist this time but to have a beer or two and reminisce about the Florida days.  It brought back a lot of great memories of Carrie, Blake and I in our early years.  I think it was a trip for him too, to see us with two kids, a dog and living in full domestication.  It was a lot different from, "I can't believe she's upset I was up until 4 am playing poker on Tuesday.  What's the big deal?"  Ha!  (He's a professor and was earning his PhD at the time so he and I kept a little different hours than we do today).

Blake took off Thursday morning to spend the holiday with this his family in Madison.  We may reunite if the Badgers hold on and earn a trip to the Rose Bowl in January.  Before he left we were up early to begin the cooking and baking.  Carrie knocked out an apple pie before 8:30 in the morning.  We had taco dip, cleary a pilgrim favorite, an assortment of cheeses (habanero was my favorite) and who could have Thanksgiving without deviled eggs? for appetizers.  After chowing down our apps we had dinner which consisted of our 20+ pound bird, Grandma Spiegelhoff's stuffing, smashed potatoes and gravy, green bean casserole, strawberry salad, sweet potatoe pie, seven layered salad, and of course cinnamon dinner rolls.  Needless to say we were stuffed.  We napped the afternoon away watching a futile Dallas team blow yet another disappointing game.  One more thing to be thankful for I suppose. 

The boys were great and even Brett behaved himself this year.  Gavin slept like a baby in his high chair through dinner and Quinny was stuffing his face with both hands.  Kids are so great.  They do the things everyone wants to do.  The fact that they have no inhibition can be both frustrating and envious at the same time.  At the dinner table stuffing thanksgiving into your pie hole two hands at at time, well, that falls under the envious category.  Good for him.  He's kept that up in subsequent days as we move through the leftovers.  Quinny has been helping us edging closer and closer to the 6 am wake up call.  By Christmas when we hit the road and get him off his schedule he'll be sleeping until 7 right before we start the cycle all over again.

We hope everyone had a great Thanksgiving!  Here are a few pictures of Gavin in his first Thanksgiving outfit, the boys and the family finishing up before the feasting can ensue.

Dancing Spectacular

After living here for approximately five minutes Carrie entered a drawing through the local paper to see Radio City Music Hall's Christmas Spectacular featuring the Rockettes.  Wow, that's a mouthful.  We had seen the show once before in Tampa and anyone that knows me knows that I love anything with singing and dancing in it.  I just had to go again!  We won four tickets in the front row of the balcony section so we had plenty of space to spread out. We picked up the kiddos and headed downtown for the show.  The performance lasted about 90 minutes.  Quinny lasted about 55 minutes.  After that first hour passed he had seen enough dancing for one day.  He leaned over and whispered into my ear, "Dad, if you've seen one high kick you've see them all."   It took cookies, a patient dad and lost of whispering to get him to muscle through the rest of it.  He did enjoy the theatre type seat that folds up on its own.  He just can't sit still for that long.  He had only been to the Dancing Bear show at Disney, which maybe lasted 20 minutes so we weren't sure if he would make it to begin with.  He kept talking or rather wondering (aloud) where "fill in the blank" went.  "Dad, Dad! Where did the stars go? It's dark! Moon! Moon! Moon!  Ba-bye Santa!"  And so on.  Not sure if the people around us thought it cute or annoying.  I guess that's the nice thing about living in the Midwest.  People are too nice to let you know.  Gavin made it through without incident.  The show itself wasn't as long or good as the one in Tampa.  I would think it would be the same but I guess size of arena and such maybe make that impossible.  The Tampa one had live animals including camels.  This one, well, not so much.  The tickets were worth over $200 and we were glad we didn't pay for it.  That seems like a lot to see some high kicks.  Quinny did get some kicks in so that was fun for the folks sitting behind us. I think I would like to see the one in New York next time.  It was a one day show and it was nice that Q was able to see the Santas. They do a number with maybe 25 Santas out there busting a move.  Quinny was shaking his booty.  He was shakin' it on down.

We are doing a little bit better in the sleep department. Quinny is sleeping in until 5:15 most mornings but there is usually one day a week where both boys cooperate and we maybe get 4 hours of sleep in a row.  Hooray! Quinny is inching his way towards getting potty trained. Milimetering his way may be a more accurate representation.  I took off for work one morning leaving both boys with Care before Q headed off to school. She jumped in the shower and upon exiting couldn't find our little monster.  She looked and looked.  Quinny?  Oh, Quinny?  Where are you?  It's awful quiet in here...She found him naked on his potty chair.  He stripped himself down as he was already dressed for school by himself.  We are still looking for the diaper.  It has mysteriously disappeared.  We hope it was a number one.  Oh Mr. Diaper where are you?Even with him sitting in his office we still haven't had a successful potty experience.  People are telling me not until he turns four.  Six years of changing diapers.  Ya, I said six years and that's if junior number three doesn't materialize. Um, can we change the subject please?

When not running around buck neked Quinny is really into cleaning.  Carrie was out with shorty number two last weekend so I took some initiative to clean up the kitchen. If you clean one area and Quinny is in another you sort of just rotate.  He's in the living room trashing the place while you clean the kitchen.  You get the kitchen done and move into the living room.  While you are busting your hump cleaning the living room he sneaks into the kitchen and trashes the newly cleaned kitchen.  It's a vicious cleaning-trashing-cleaning-trashing cycle.  (And that's why we have a beer fridge).  So, to combat this it's better to have him help you.  Sure, it takes you two and half times longer to clean an area but you aren't doing things twice.  Slow and methodical is more fun than repeat, repeat, repeat.  Twenty minutes to empty the dishwasher.  You get the bottom rack done, look over and realize he's emptying the top rack by putting those dishes into the bottom rack.  Oh, kids, don't you just love em'?! He's working the counters with a rag and he has a never ending cold so being father of the year I ask him if maybe he would like a Kleenex.  You know to help with the snot running down his face.  He gives me a look that he's got it covered.  And then proceeds to blow his nose into the rag.  Yup, we live on the farm.  Hilarious.  Snot everywhere.  And what does one do when blowing their nose into their cleaning apparatus but continue cleaning with it of course.  Okay, so maybe even when he's helping you it's redundant cleaning.  Still, it was hilarious.  We got a new rag, a Kleenex and recleaned the counters or did we? No, no just kidding we totally wiped the snot up.

Gavin turned a month old last week.  He's plumping out like you wouldn't believe.  He's got massive cheeks.  He's also going bald.  I'm glad I'm not. Quinny lost his hair in the back but it kept growing long in the front and then grew out again in the back.  Gavin's is slowing receding from the front just like a real person going bald.  I kind of feel sorry for him.  I've done some research and apparently this is normal. It's not easy being 4 weeks old.  He's going to be totally bald, which is a buzz kill for me.  I love Quinny's trademark long hair.  He's always had it and it's always been awesome.  We put product in it.  It gets chicks.  It's awesome.  I always thought it was weird that babies were bald.  It is, isn't it?  We'll see how it shakes out but he's having a tougher time looking sexy right now than I remember Quentin.  It's cold here anyway so he's all bundled up.  People are still fighting for a look.  Isn't that a little weird too?  Strangers want to stare at your baby.

We haven't been very good at taking pictures lately.  I am digging deep here. And of course we forget to grab the camera on our way to the lady high kicking extravaganza but we did remember to bring both kids.  And, honestly, isn't that the important part?  Why don't they put flashes on camera phones?  Do I have to think of everything iPhone?  So here is Quinny sporting my shoes and Carrie's vest.  He's big on getting in the closets lately.  No dresses yet.  He has shaved a couple of times.  He has this bench and he's finally realized he can take the bench to any room and wah-la he has access to places he shouldn't like my shaving cream and cologne.  Here is one of big brother helping lil' bro with a nose pick.  What are brothers for?

Turning a boy into a Man

Now that Q-dog has a little brother I thought it high time that he start taking on the challenges of manhood.  Do you think your son's two year old birthday is too early to buy him his first gun?  I thought it would be a nice bonding experience.  You know killing things together and then gutting them.  Nothing says BFF's like getting two hands bloody.  I was trying to remember back when my dad got me my first BB gun.  I'm sure I was too young. Too young to remember so I suppose it was the right age.  I know one of the things I did with it was shoot my younger brother in the booty so clearly irresponsible enough, but likely older than 2.  Ultimately I decided a gun, even a BB gun, was probably not the right gift.  Okay, so what else can we do?  Got it.  We need to fix up the car.  Nothing says man better than greased up boys.

I did a little research online and found the local auto parts store.  I needed to winterize the engines that will sit all winter, get some new windshield wipers as they will have to tackle more destructive elements than rain this year, a new air filter and some funnels to dump a minimal amount of toxic chemicals or fossil fuels as some may call them into the Earth.  I picked up my son, soon to be a man, and loaded him into the car.  Along the few mile drive I taught him how to grunt like a man so when we got to the store he could act appropriately.  Not sure how to write the sweet sweet sound of grunting on paper.  Let me give it a shot so you can feel like you too were strapped in beside these men among men.  Grrrrrr, nope that's not it.  Hunnnn.  No, that doesn't really capture the moment either.  Ernnnnnn.  Well, that sounds like constipation.  Last try....Hurnnnernnnn, hurrnernnn, herrnnn.  That's pretty close.  Quinny was having a ball in the backseat grunting his way one hrrenurrn at a time into manhood. 

Practice completed we were ready to enter the store on a delightful Saturday morning. There was a tow truck in the lot revving it's engine.  Hurenenenr!  Hureennrrn!  Oh, ya this is gonna be great.  We walk into the store.  Q, dude!, get the pacifier out of your mouth.  Geez, you're totally blowing it!  Immediately the woman at the counter asks how old he is.  18.  He's a man.  Why?  Looking for a date?  Hurrennnr! She asks what we're looking for.  We give her the eye, wink and reply - trouble.  That's right honey I said trouble.  Know where I can find any? After Q was done flirting (I'm a married man you know) we spread out looking for the goods.  We had a pretty decent list and trying to find just the right part wasn't going to be easy.  Quinny was doing his part grabbing anything within reach, taking it out of its respective box, examining it, ultimately deciding it wasn't the right part and tossing it aside in the middle of the aisle.  Hurernnrerun!  That's right baby I do what I want.  Herurernnn!

After 30 minutes we gathered just about everything we needed.  The lady from behind the counter tracks us down and asks us if we have everything.  Hereunnr! She helps us take our man goods up to the counter and continues to flirt continuously with Quentin. Clearly, all that man practice in the car was paying off big time.  And I mean big time.  All Quinny had to do was ask for her digits and she would've melted right there next to the brake pads. But no he was playing it cool. He had the car to go home and work on.  The babe could wait.  Hereurrn! Playin' hard to get?  That's all man right there.  This kid was oozing cool. And with that he flipped his collar, walked out the front door, grabbed his bah, popped it in and strapped himself in for the ride home.  We revved the engine in the parking lot for effect.  Herenunnrn! Peeled out and headed home. 

We grunted out way all the way home with the excitement of getting greasy barely containable.  Hereunnrn! Upon reaching our destination and with the hood already popped open we grabbed our tools, one in each hand. Huerennr! Huernnr! Herurnern! We replaced the air filter, ditched the washed up wipers, installed the new ones, spilled gas multiple times all over the garage floor (not our house! Herurn!) - little dude don't inhale that, well okay just a little - alright that's enough -seriously enough, and got the engines winterized.  Like any good man moment we wiped our hands on our shirts, grabbed a man beverage, Busch Light, and quenched the thirst of acting like a man that only a Busch can cure.  It was official, Quinny was now a man.  And all before his second birthday.  He went inside and put on some man clothes flicked on nascar, kicked up his feet and called it a Saturday.  See picture.  I cannot wait for more man moments with the Qster.