I’m not under an illusions that I make or break anyone’s day by failing to post, but even for me this is a long time coming.

I notice that when I go into introspective mode I lose a lot of motivation. A guy like me can get lost in his head for weeks before breaking the surface again. So here I am, I guess. Breaking through.

It’s A Boy!

I worked all night and forced myself to stay awake to be at the docs when we got the ultrasound. I was exhausted and ready for the radiologist or the “ultrasound technician’ – whatever they call themselves – to confirm the sex as a girl. But to my wonderful delight, I was greeted with a formidable penis and a renewed energy. I had no idea I would be so excited about having a boy. Now – what to name him…

It’s A Blood Disease

My ‘niece’, Cindy was in the hospital, one casual bump from death. That put a lot of things in perspective for me . Watching her father suffer through that, watching her be an lion one day and prey the next to an invisible force makes you think about the length of time you really have and what you should do with that time…. if you don’t know about ITP - learn now.

It’s Easter Sunday!

So now the photos. I didn’t take any of these, and I have really been slacking on the photos in general. I promise I will get better!

The monkey being the monkey. Damn cute!

Nick  -Master car salesman

Chelsea – All smiles today…

Joel – all smiles ALWAYS

She freaking LOVES this dress…

Nana & Novalee

Uncle Brent & Novalee

Benny & Will

Mona & Great Nana

Ok, back to introspection. Gonna be a looooooong week.

It’s been a while since I indulged in some kids cereal.What was I thinking?

Not that I don’t indulge in fast food, cigarettes and coffee cake, but this is, like… totally different (right?). I snagged a monster bag of the generic Cinnamon Toast Crunch last week at Walmart and finally tapped into the bag. The very first bite brought be back in time. For 5 minutes, I was 10 years old in Barrington, New Hampshire. The doors had just opened for school and I had already been to homeroom to drop off my bags. As soon as I had said hello to whoever I was dating (I was a pimp..fo realz), I bee-lined it to the cafeteria for Cinnamon Toast Crunch.

Chocolate Milk & Cinnamon Dreams

Barrington Middle School served ‘breakfast’. Well… more like the concept of a continental breakfast so poorly executed that I look back in amazement wondering how my young bowels ever survived such abuse. There were muffins that looked like dung stuffed in a baking cup with little bits of squishy dung throughout. I suspect they were raisins but I never had the courage to find out. The watery orange juice was Cisco brand poured in styrofoam cups by weary eyed women with stained aprons.

But amidst the low-lit cafeteria and the scent of rotted cole-slaw mixed and Pine-Sol – there was a mountain of treasure in the form of 3 giant crates of chocolate milk. Even more glorious, the nondescript cardboard boxes filled to brim with cereal. There were rows upon rows of single-serving boxes of Cinnamon Toast Crunch in their own bowls, eager to be slathered with chocolate milk and devoured by a chubby pre-pubescent demon with an empty stomach. I would spend my lunch money on 2 bowls of cereal and 2 cartons of chocolate milk ($.25 in’88). Who needed lunch when you ate so much CTC you barfed if you had Gym first period.

So I’m going to stop writing now and enjoy my cereal. I’m 10 and blogs and the internet and Twitter don’t exist. I’m Little Robby, sitting on a cafeteria bench by myself, in blessed silence – nothing but the noise of mastication and the clink of kitchen drones making the next batch of poison for me and my friends. Thank goodness I’m stuffed with this awesome cereal.

Post-Note – Malt-o-Meal ‘Cinnamon Toasters’ vs. Cinnamon Toast Crunch

I was reading Sampa the other day an article referred to the Malt-o-meal’s  Cinnamon Toasters - as ‘an abortion of a cereal‘ – they are not that bad, but they are different. However -  you can get 3 boxes worth of cinnamon crunchy goodness for $0.35 less than the cost of one single box of Cinnamon Toast Crunch. That’s better than a cinnamon stick in the eye.

I always thought the terrible-twos were a myth, a tale told to sex-starved teens to keep them from going at it unprotected.

That, indeed, is not the case. For a stressed out parent, there’s nothing more reassuring than your 2 year old saying “That’s disgusting” when you give her a kiss, or “Leave me alone” when you play with her. There’s nothing that says “I love you daddy” than a kick to the testes at 2 am when she doesn’t want to move over and make room for her dad. Nothing says “You’re the best” like yelling at you for not producing the proper color Popsicle, no matter what color it may be.

So I thought I would write this for her benefit – say 15 years down the road. You are adorable, and I love you but you are a pill. A giant, loud, ornery, pain in the butt. You’re grounded.