Watching Hugh Laurie in ‘Stuart Little’ is a little odd after watching several seasons of ‘House.’ 

I keep waiting for him to make fun the kid, toss out the cat or squish Stuart…and I’d hate to hear how he’d sexually harass Gena Davis as he does his boss on the show.

I’ve mentioned before that Maura does NOT want to perform.  Quite honestly I was worried that she was way behind in her alphabet and other academic milestones.

Well, appears that we were wrong. 

One of her gifts was a dry erase book on basic addition and subtraction.  We thought it a little above her, but she insisted on playing with it yesterday.  Dayna did a couple with her, and then she started talking to me.  When we looked back, Maura had done some addition, correctly identified the answer (eight and seven respectively) and even wrote the numbers down (though the seven was a mirror image). 

It was an incredible and shocking surprise.

While youtube.com is primarily a place for bad teen poetry or slick, viral marketing campaigns; you do, on occasion, run across something good.

Stumbled on this and found it eye opening.  Something to show Maura if ever she has self-esteem issues.

http://www.ifilm.com/video/2779259

Merry Christmas!

It’s early in the morning and of course our son was up at 4:30 (three hours after we went to bed) seeking to go downstairs and open his gifts from Santa.  Not being the most ‘stealthy’ or ‘cat-like’ child, he of course woke Maura.

Maura just hoped in bed with us and fell right to sleep.  Brody, not so much.

Oh I did get him to hop in bed with us, but it was like trying to cuddle with a rabid chipmunk that had just binged on energy drinks.  He literally cannot sit still. 

Though I most appreciate the ‘creativity’ he employs as reasons why he cannot fall back to sleep and why he must open his gifts ASAP.

I can’t go into them all, but my favorite was when he starting batting at the sky.  When I inquired what he was doing, he said that he saw invisible worms in the sky, from his eyes, and they were bothering him.  I believe he was referring to the rods and cones in one’s eye that you can see when you rub your eyes.  It’s just at 6 in the morning, that’s pretty funny and absurd.

He’s sumthin’, but I love him!

We have regularly bemoaned our children’s inability to sleep past 5:30 a.m., especially Brody. 

Now that he is older, and better understands the concept of time,  as well as the concept of a ‘weekend’, we do have occasion to sleep in on weekends.  Brody still wakes up, but he knows not to wake us up till at least seven or eight.  If Maura wakes up, he even warns her to not wake us up and they play together.

Of course, this is our son, so the whole time we might hear him yell, ‘Maura!  Mom and Dad are sleeping..stop taling!’ 

The other day was classic.  At 5:45 we wake up to Brody doing karaoke with his Crazy Frog music!

I recall just yesterday walking in to the office and seeing a tripped out H3 in the lot.  I of course assumed it was a gas hog and owned by a poorly-endowed schlup trying to parade their wealth (or credit history). 

My co-worker offered to drive to lunch today and led us out to the lot.  As we walked I was surprised that we ended up at a huge yellow hummer (different one from yesterday).  No liberal disgust this time, I was eager to ride in one and see what the big deal was.

• At this point I already knew that the person who owned the vehicle is a wonderful co-worker and is one of the most self-assured people I know.  Also, that they are not loaded.
• I then learned that her spouse was part of the design team, so they got one for two years.  Also that it got 21 mpg, which is the same as my normal car

So no ranting on my part as it relates to status, the entitled nouveau rich, gas mileage, the environment or the inevitable canonization of St. Al Gore.  (However, I can recommend a great book: ‘The Republican War on Science.’)

But, it had less room inside than my wagon!?

Here is a 37,000 dollar car, and I felt like I was in a suitcase.  My 3,500 Taurus Wagon could carry twice the interior cubic feet.

I guess what I learned today is that one shouldn’t automatically react in disgust when you see a Hummer around (at least not the H3); that there is no accounting for taste (really, it is ugly); and to not be jealous….the Taurus Wagon is a BABE MAGNET (look who sits next to me in mine every day)!

http://www.careerbuilder.com/monk-e-mail/

Last week Danielle sent Dayna the neatest e-mail.  Now I can’t get into exactly what Danielle said in the e-mail…but the e-mail itself was great.  The above is sponsored by Careerbuilder.com and based on their television commercials.

This has brought hours of fun to the kids and I.  The first time we did it, Maura thought the monkey was talking to her as I’d quickly type in a response to her questions.  Brody also enjoyed it but he says he’s also afraid of monkeys and the fact that the monkey’s eyes follow the cursor around really bothered him (so of course I moved the cursor to give the impression that it was watching him…ain’t I a good Dad?).

Our favorite feature however is the ability to record your own voice.  The kids sent some nice ones to Dayna and I suspect I’ll send a ‘monkeying around’ e-mail myself later!

Make your best one and send it on.

While the lack of a cd player in my car is a matter of great inconvenience for the kids; it is a source of good anecdotes.  To ensure that I always have a sufficient supply of innocuous stories, I suspect I shouldn’t install a cd player. J

We had dropped Brody off and Maura and I were heading to pre-school.  The morning dj had gone from music to their insipid stories and crank calls; greatly angering Mo’.  She requested rock and roll.

We hit all the presets and the best we could come up with was an Air Supply song.  Maura correctly identified the song as NOT being rock and roll.  We searched again and came up with Bad Company performed by Bad Company.  Apparently that song is lacking in either ‘rock’ or ‘roll’.

She said ‘no, rock and roll is fast, loud and sounds like this…’ she then did a rather poor, but cute, imitation of an electric guitar.

Continuing the music theme, the kids were riding with Dayna and she too was ‘seeking’ on the radio.

Brody hollered, ‘Stop!  That’s Tom Petty!’

He had correctly identified a TP song in four notes!

Dayna and I don’t have the opportunities to go to the theater as often as we once did.  As such, last night was a rare treat.

We attended the world premier showing of the Creekside Elementary (Room 10) performance of a ‘Flea in Santa’s Tree’.

The play was just Brody’s class.  That really limited the number in the audience which was nice. 

A basic synopsis of the event (Spoiler Warning – do not read if you intend to see the play):

• A few kids came out, introduced the Title, identify the Problem and the Outcome or Solution.
• There was a dramatis personae but I don’t recall it all at this point.
• Two kids sat there as Santa and the Mrs., they bemoaned that their tree had no topper.  As such the elves (a group of 7 or 8) invited many to audition.
• There was a bear, a bunny, a dog, a flower and so on.  After each kid said their four lines in either quiet, slow, fast or perfectly intoned (Brody!) lines in full iambic pentameter, they elves would say ‘don’t call us we’ll call you.’
• Blah, Blah, Blah and an angel gets the gig.
• They also sang holiday carols at the end.
• Brody was the Alien (What is xmas without an imaginary figure not of earth – whoa…I’m gonna catch hell for that one!).  He said his lines rather well, with feeling and I’d even be so bold as to say, with some panache!

Seriously though, we were all really proud of him; it was neat to see him recite his lines and sing.

Turns out this is culture week as we have a ballet performance on Saturday.  (Maura’s first recital!  Awwwwww)

So somewhere along the line I turned into Dr. House.  Not the pill-popping, drug addicted Dr. House, just the cranky, curmudgeonly, pessimistic Dr. House.  I suspect it’s a result of many factors including age, frustration with the political arena, sleep deprivation and the fact that most people just annoy the hell out of me. 

Here I am, a man of 40 who still enjoys comic books yet I can’t sit through a single show without pointing out all of the plot holes or product placement gimmicks; yet I find reading about flying men in their underwear saving the world from evil doppelgangers from another dimension not a problem.  Obviously I’m inconsistent in the application of my ‘suspension of disbelief.’

So it was that on the way home yesterday I promised to be more positive or at least withhold my opinion, comment or insightful (and RIGHT) commentary when someone else makes a comment.

Yessir, went to work today with a smile on my face; even listened to music instead of NPR so the news wouldn’t get me down or get my fained righteous indignation flaring.

So what happens?  Why a plethora of comments just begging for my witty repartee’!

• “I think Oprah is really down to earth and not motivated by money”
• “I think that once George Bush was elected president you shouldn’t be allowed to complain about him because he is the commander in chief”
• “I would love to go back in time and kill Gloria Steinem, a woman’s place is in the home and women should be at the door in pearls and a dress waiting for their man” (from a woman no less)
• “I don’t think gay folk should be allowed to do anything.”
• “In my community {minorities constantly have kids in their teens}”
• “Nobody believes in evolution here right?”

Seriously, by the end of the day my body was shaking, I believe the pent up comments and retorts caused some sort of facial tick. 

All I know is that when I got in my car to head home, I had a turrets-like explosion of comments in response.

I’ve decided that curmudgeonly ain’t so bad.

Maura has decided to join the ranks of those possessing the X-factor or Meta-gene; she has informed us that ‘she has powers!’

Yes, that is correct; ‘powers’. 

When asked about her powers she informs us that the ‘power’ resides in her hands.  This ‘hand power’ apparently allows her to fly.

So I have dubbed her ‘the Palm Pilot!’ 

When asked to demonstrate her powers of flight she tells us that she is only going to use them on xmas eve to help Santa deliver gifts.

Awwwww.  I’m actually hoping to get the power of flight as well; gas prices along with my commute are killing me.

Friday was beautiful: sun was shinning, snow was melting, but DAMN was it cold!  On top of it, my workstation (which sounds more impressive than soulless Dilbertian cubicle) is under an air duct which seems programmed to ‘opposite day.’

Seriously!  My hands were so cold that I was printing stuff just to feel the warm paper!

Man, I just love looking back at my previous postings.  I have got to stop writing these at 11:30 p.m.

My syntax reads as if it was written by an inebriated Lindsay Lohan!

The kids really enjoy music; as I type Maura is listening to a Strawberry Shortcake cd while playing with…you guessed it…Strawberry Shortcake. 

Brody is in his room doing karaoke to a Disney compilation cd of classic rock/dance tunes (‘We Will Rock You’; ‘YMCA’; etc). 

One of the songs is ‘Freak Out.’

Brody is cracking me up, as he is singing, he thinks they are talking to a Sheik.  So as he sings he says ‘Freak Out Sheik!’, as if it’s a command or order, rather than a jubilant call to the party people.

 I’ve mentioned before that my new (14 year old) car has a cassette player.  I can’t find any old cassettes, I got rid of them in the nineties…which is fine, I suspect the kids wouldn’t enjoy Bang Tango, Tesla, Mr. Big, Warrant, Trixter, Winger, Slaughter, Ugly Kid Joe, Alias, Babylon A.D., Cinderella, Dangerous Toys, White Snake, White Lion, Skid Row, L.A.Guns, Faster Pussycat…(man I WAS coo!).

As a result, because my kids do love music, we’re stuck with the radio.  Morning radio blows, seriously, who wants to listen to a group of unfunny 40 years olds talk about their kids? (whoops, you’re reading this blog arent’ you?  This is different)

The kids really tire of the DJ’s and always ask if we can fast forward past that (the DVR on the tv is something everything should have)

We have found two stations that actually play music in the morning; one that plays top 40 from the sixties on and a classic rock station.

FYI: If you need one last gift for the kids, get them a CCR cd, they LOVE Credence!

The other day Brody was talking about a kid who ‘thought he was cool.’  I asked why the kid thought that he was cool and Brody said the kid was always talking about his clothing. 

Sad that starts in first grade.

I then tried to inform Brody about ‘cool’ kids.  ‘Cool’ is an attitude.  If you think you’re cool, you’re not.  The truly ‘cool’ are the kids who don’t give a @#!+ if anyone thinks they’re cool. 

(BTW – I’m cool)

Alas, that kind of transposed, mystic logic was having trouble sinking in.  So instead I said, hey, wear your AC/DC shirt tomorrow! That’s cool.

Later in the week, we got to school at the same time as that kid.  Brody, wanting to appear ‘cool’ would not hug me, he extended his hand to shake?!

Man they’re growing up way too fast!

Wanting to teach the kids that xmas isn’t just about getting (expensive) stuff, the three of us went to Michael’s to get some crafts.  Now I can’t talk about all of them in detail, as they are the kid’s gifts for friends and families, however..

With some of the extra parts Dayna decided to make a foam smore or marshmallow.  She then drew a face and some ear muffs on the little white cube (head).

When she showed it to Maura she said ‘Look, Einstein!’

Einstein?  A) She doesn’t know who Albert E is (or so I thought) and B) It doesn’t look like Einstein.

I then looked at it and figured it out…the ‘ear muffs’ were very square on sat low on the head, the head was a cube, so a flat top…she was trying to say ‘Frankenstein!’