Ok Darling....I'm back. I already have like three new thoughts to post about.


#1. I wanted to respond to your pop quiz on the Campout Sequel 2 post. The answer was "a" I was looking at a photoshopped picture of you with hair on your head. Actually that was your own hair I had just cut and picked out of the trash can and put back on your head.






#2. I wanted to post this picture of me throwing Georgia in the air at Lake Arrowhead last weekend.


#3. Here's a clip of Parker aiding in Georgia's potting training efforts.

Metaphorically Speaking

For much of you Laura’s lack of posting has gone unnoticed, much like the period after Dr. on a can of Dr Pepper. But for me, I miss Laura's posts. She's the Ying to my Yang, the Peaches to my Herb, the ketchup to my hamburger and fries.

For the past several months Laura has been absent, a truant in the sphere of the blog. And while it is instinctual to blame it on her busy schedule with the girls and such, I think it’s a matter of prioritization. So my plan is to harass her and goad her into again becoming involved with this project and unlike Laura, this plan just might work (doh!).

There’s no doubt that Laura is a busy person. I know she does very little lounging with two busy girls to take care of. So let’s be clear, Laura’s life is frenetic, like a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs, she is always on the go. But Laura has abandoned us. She has better places to be than the sphere of the blog. And while it may seem odd to characterize Laura as unfocused, there is a pattern of this kind of behavior.

For instance, she wanted a video camera, so I buy her a very good one for her birthday, we have children, she records 742 hours of film (to date) of our family and how many DVDs have been created from this footage? Four - totaling about 8 hours of footage, and they’re all of PJ! The remainder of unviewed material remains on the perpetual ‘to-do’ list...sorry Georgia.

This makes me sad, as sad as a one-legged Riverdancer with an inner ear infection and an arthritic knee.

Come back Laura.

Seeking Corporate Sponsorship

Since the licensing scheme for Magnificent Fantastic memorabilia went over like a loud fart in a quiet church, I've been exploring some other means of exploitation. I've submit the following propositions...


This blogpost is sponsored by Hershey's Milk Chocolate..."not only sweet and tasty, it now has secret emollients to help improve your child's eczema!"

This photograph is brought to you by your friends at The Gap(in Parker's front teeth).


This blogpost is brought to you by our friends at Harrison Industries.

This photograph is brought to you by Kleenex (and lots of it!).


Spnsored by The Georgia Powers Nanny Service (who's watching The Sopranos with little children in the room?)


This photo of Laura wakeboarding is brought to you by Ocean Spray


This photo is brought to you by Heros Foam Ear Plugs


And these photosare brought to you by

the Strawberry Growers of America

7/4/10

As usual, I'm torn by this holiday.

For this post, the opening paragraph from the patriotic optimist in me reads like this...

July 4th, a day where we come together to remind ourselves of the sacrifices and struggles we've endured as a great nation for the past 234 years. From the humble beginnings of thirteen colonial states we've evolved into the most awesomest superpower on the planet (running a close second is the Mexican drug cartel). On July 4th we stand up and proudly walk down Main St. in Ventura California with our children and our wagons decked out in red, white and blue ribbons and celebrate the great document penned by Tommy Jefferson.

The opening paragraph from the cynic in me reads as follows...

The 185th day in the Gregorian calendar was celebrated this year with all of the vapid celebratory patriotism you've come to expect in a day that marks our adoption of the Declaration of Independence by the majority of Americans wearing the colors of France while enjoying the awesome sight of Chinese fireworks. In defiance of our de-evolution as a democracy (hello! corporate influence on the body politic and mindless occupations of foreign lands that bleed our souls of hope and civility), I wore a Gordon Biersch t-shirt.




Georgia sporting the double "pop pop" look.



Georgia may be just a young naive two year old but she's incredibly wise for her age. A few days prior we partook in a rather intelligent exchange examining the political dialogue we're having as a nation...

Me: "Georgia, don't mess with the remote control, I'm trying to watch Hannity"

Georgia: "Hanty...poo poo...stinky"

Me: "Perhaps Georgia but it's important to keep the channels of communication open amongst all factions of political thought"

Georgia: "Dayee!, poo poo out! To the, to the potty chair, right?"

Me: "You can't just 'poo poo' every right wing theory without proper critical analysis even if at its very core fails to serve the needs of the lower and middle class"

Georgia: "Dada, dance to rock down song!!Pleeeez??"

Me: "Fine, we can rock down to some Primus but we're going to continue this discussion at a later date"



Georgia admiring my red, white and blue toenails. They were painted in honor of France; not because it looks gay (and boy did it) but because the French are so maligned by Americans. However whatever your opinion is of France they deserve at least an honorable mention on July 4th.

Look Who's A Year Older

I’m doing all the posting now. Laura doesn’t seem to think it’s important to document our children’s progress. Luckily I'm around to pick up the slack. We’re rearing children during the age of the internet which allows for the recording of our lives thru this blog. Someday Laura will come back to the blogosphere...perhaps when "So You Think You Can Dance" is finally over but then "Dancing With the Stars"(Stars?...really?) will begin again and the cycle will never be broken. There's no end in sight.

Let me put it this way, if I waited for Laura to post important developmental information and related milestones of our beloved progeny our next post would be about Parker's terrible acne problem at the age of 13.


GEORGIA'S TWO! YIPPITY DIPPITY DOO! What a day for the little girl. She woke up to her first present…a sleeping bag.

The party was held at Marina Park where a hotly-contested game of musical chairs took place. It was a gut-wrenching struggle which tested the kid's fortitude as well as their mental toughness(redundant?). Not sure who won being that chairs were not being removed after each turn so everyone always had a chair to sit in. This small rule change made it difficult to find a winner. It soon became a war of attrition - whomever had the longest attention span won.



For weeks prior Georgia was requesting a “pop pop cake” meaning she wanted a lollipop cake. As usual, Laura did a great job with the cake and Georgia loved it!

Father's Day 2010

The day started around 6:30 am with Parker and Georgia climbing into bed with us and Parker assuredly exclaiming “today is Father’s Day which means that mommy does all the work and daddy doesn’t have to do anything!”

She is such a special little girl.



We spent part of the day at the Ventura Harbor. A band was playing and we know how much Georgia and parker like to dance to ‘rock down’ songs, however the band was too loud for Georgia’s little ears so we walked on.


The gift I received from the girls was a japanese fighting fish. Parker named her Cherry several days before. I knew it was coming. A few days earlier Parker could not keep quiet about the gift, she kept asking me to guess what my Father's Day gift was. I played along a bit but she kept giving better and better clues. She finally narrowed it down to something in a bowl. "A turtle" I asked, "no, try again", a really small unicorn?", "no silly, try again". Finally I inquired "is it a fish?", from there came those most loudly exclamation "YES IT IS!!!!"

That girl has not learned how to keep a secret. I was smart enough not to tell her my Mother's Day gift because I knew she'd let the cat out of the bag.



Parker got her face painted as well. The theme she chose was....


pink and white fairy? - I'm not quite sure.


The evening ended with a magnificently fantastic dinner including filet tenderloin with a gorgonzola sauce and stuffed mushrooms. Excellente.

CAMPOUT 2, The Sequel

What makes this a campout? From what I can tell, just pajamas and smores, oh there’s a tent there as well. I don’t think the kids cared, they were just happy to be there.


Georgia was the highlight of the evening. No child went down that slide with as much aggressiveness, carelessness, velocity, vigor, and lack of respect for gravity and anatomy as Georgia.


Watching Georgia shoot down the slide made me want to pick up the phone and dial 9, then 1…and wait for her to crash to finish the call with another 1.






Pop quiz. In the background, Laura is looking in reluctant appreciation at:
a) a photoshopped picture of me with hair on my head
b) a detailed plan she's concocted to defer funds from our savings account towards the acquisition of more women's clothing
c) a photoshopped picture of her arm in arm with Justin Bieber
d) a picture of the eighth pair of running shoes she's purchased in the past 6 months

Georgia

Every day shows a sign of development. Lately she’s been learning about the existence of prepositions. Everything she wants to communicate includes the phrase “to the”. For example, this morning as I was getting ready for work and Georgia emphatically asks me “Dada…go to the…work?” A few days ago I was watching the World Cup and Georgia asks “Dada…go to the soccer?”

The context she’s using is when Laura would say something like “let’s go to the beach” or “who wants to go to the pool?” My assumption is that constantly developing brain of hers is firing off synapses that equate everything in the context of “go to the…”

Now only if she would “go to the...potty?”

Post #300

This is the 300th post on our blog. My goodness.

In commemoration of this historic milestone, I want to render a complaint.

Every morning at 6am Georgia is crying in her crib. The cry is not like a "I'm awake, someone come get me out of here" kinda cry, it's more of a shreiking panicked "aaaagggh! there's a giant Siberian tiger in my bed and it's attacking me" kind of a cry. Once I or Laura wake from our serene slumber and drag our zombie-like bodies to her room, the shrieks fall silent and there's this big grin on Georgia's face. Ugh...fooled again.

Fort-ified

http://blog.buildllc.com/2010/04/couch-cushion-architecture-a-critical-analysis/

This is a great article about something I always enjoyed as a kid...domestic forts. Coincidentally while I was tearing apart our bathroom shower this alst weekend, I was thinking how much Parker and Jack would enjoy building a fort out of the 4x8 panels I was placing on the side of the house.