tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-218474962012-01-17T21:05:16.449-06:00The Internet's Leading Authority on The Sieber Family in AustinChrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13365999223775658292noreply@blogger.comBlogger2651100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21847496.post-3437175230759332752012-01-15T22:54:00.003-06:002012-01-15T23:03:33.438-06:00

I'm not the writer in the family, but I noticed a lack of posts for say...all of 2011. The reason is named OWEN. With Michael, Chris and I could always have someone on the bench, "you take a nap, while I watch him," and vice versa. Now, with baby O in the picture, we run man to man defense 90% of the time and zone defense when one of us has a late night at work. Don't get me wrong, I

shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00931359711869326822noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21847496.post-46816722395157380322010-10-17T21:50:00.005-05:002010-10-17T22:03:04.184-05:00

Hello Blogosphere, it's Shannon here so don't expect a masterpiece of writing on this one, but I had to share a little funny thing that happened between Michael and I today. We were taking a little weekend trip to Fry's Electronics to purchase a birthday present for Michael's teacher at daycare. Once we arrived at our assigned cashier, Michael placed the present gently down on the counter, and

shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00931359711869326822noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21847496.post-43555658760114956042010-09-17T09:44:00.000-05:002010-09-17T09:44:18.703-05:00

Welp, friends, we have made it through another week. I made some kick butt spreadsheets, sent the great American work e-mail, and boy howdy did I drink a lot of coffee. That's just how I roll, especially in a week that the Mad Dog has decided to be a bad sleeper again. This week also marked Shannon and my 4th anniversary. I'm not sure exactly, but I'm guessing that the odd taxonomy that equates

Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13365999223775658292noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21847496.post-73188521911130438792010-09-14T13:32:00.002-05:002010-09-15T23:26:40.690-05:00

Now that Michael's verbal and reasoning skills are getting up to speed, it's time for us to start indoctrinating him to like the things that we like. Sure, we'll take care of the stuff like reading books, enjoying healthy/locally grown/in-season food, and exercising. Yada, yada, yada. The important thing will be securing his allegiance to our sports teams of choice, the Texas Longhorns and the

Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13365999223775658292noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21847496.post-90520166453382181292010-09-07T15:42:00.000-05:002010-09-07T15:42:22.800-05:00

We all collaborated to select your grandfather name. You've always been referred to as Grumpaw or Grampaw. Michael has heard the correct name hundreds of times. Toddlers have a way of sidetracking the best laid plans. There's a quirk somewhere in Michael's developing verbal skills. Some consonant sounds are just difficult to correctly speak at the tender age of 22 months. I'm sure that your

Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13365999223775658292noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21847496.post-17707713134649083242010-08-30T15:15:00.000-05:002010-08-30T15:15:23.913-05:00

I'm going to try a new feature here. That's What He Said will be quick-hitters documenting funny things that Mad Dawg has said recently. 1. Michael has just moments ago woken up from a nap. As he's rubbing his eyes, he looks at me and says, "Daddy, I need airplane." Really? That's what you need right after waking up? 2. Scene: Mikey sitting in his high chair eating lunch. Bella is barking

Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13365999223775658292noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21847496.post-72446756941850301612010-08-28T22:50:00.000-05:002010-08-28T22:50:51.018-05:00

When Mikey was a wee little newborn, I always wondered just what he was thinking. What did he think when he came sliding into the world under the bright lights of the delivery room? What exactly was he crying about all those late nights when he was well-fed and dry-diapered? Did he have fantastical daydreams about our gigantic heads floating above him or our strong hands always picking him up and

Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13365999223775658292noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21847496.post-45021582098086670382010-08-23T20:23:00.003-05:002010-08-23T20:26:47.824-05:00

Mikey, his Lightning McQueen Potty and the iPad

shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00931359711869326822noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21847496.post-33425581194125903212010-08-20T12:36:00.001-05:002010-08-20T12:41:07.247-05:00

Mikey went poopoo in the potty. Golly, I can't believe I just typed that disgusting and childish sentence, and I apologize for bringing the bathroom to this blog. This is apparently a monumental victory in the battle for potty training. It means that the days of cartoon character underroos are upon us. Hint to all relatives who might be thinking about a 2nd birthday present. Mikey loves Thomas

Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13365999223775658292noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21847496.post-33429848570972543482010-08-13T14:27:00.000-05:002010-08-13T14:27:43.294-05:00

We couldn't leave well enough alone, could we? Shannon and I find ourselves once again on that wonderful, miraculous journey to parenthood. Somewhere around Thanksgiving Day (the exact due date), we expect to welcome our new little addition to the family. Base on ultrasound confirmation of pre-natal baby junk, we know we are having another baby boy. Sorry Shannon. His nickname has quickly become

Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13365999223775658292noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21847496.post-4622300052941778222010-08-09T16:58:00.000-05:002010-08-09T16:58:47.486-05:00

As evidenced by the appalling lack of content on this blog, I've suffered from some writer's block of late. Every time I try to sit down and write something, it comes back to the same themes:  changes and what Mikey has been doing lately. How many times do you want to read about what Mikey is saying or doing (wow, he asks for biteymans, i.e. vitamins, now. Stop the presses!)? Feeling like I've

Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13365999223775658292noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21847496.post-79109464015987485932010-07-05T23:29:00.003-05:002010-07-05T23:52:09.903-05:00

We've been a little lazy lately with posting pictures so I thought I would throw in a few of our favorites over the last few months.Mad Dog chillin' in his Grampy's Rat Rod.Michael and Jonah having some deep conversation about something. Michael, the poster child for the banana.Mad Dog having fun at the splash park with his dad. Mikey exploring at the Austin Nature and Science Center

shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00931359711869326822noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21847496.post-41355556493568368012010-06-10T13:37:00.001-05:002010-06-10T13:38:55.827-05:00

Mikey is talking a lot lately. He mainly uses sentences, which clearly means that he will be an excellent orator when he is older. Recent utterances and common phrases from the little guy: "I want that one" - General request, usually referring to food or some kind of toy "Bella, No! Go away!" - Command used against a personal space invading Corgidor, looking for some food. "Daddy, I got owwie.

Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13365999223775658292noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21847496.post-84814106297054957012010-06-03T21:13:00.000-05:002010-06-03T21:13:15.983-05:00

I'm a bad dude. Shannon has been asleep on the couch since about 6. Mikey and I played a long bout of throw the tennis ball, run around, and scream. We chased the dog around. We rolled a baseball on the floor. You know, guy stuff. Next, Mikey got his bath and his standard lotion treatment. We then headed to his bedroom and popped in his lullaby c.d. We read though five books (Brown Bear, Brown

Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13365999223775658292noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21847496.post-83500025422615448202010-06-02T09:24:00.002-05:002010-06-02T09:26:19.217-05:00

Dear Mr. Genachowski (Chairman, Federal Communications Commission): I am writing you to request a radio policy change to protect parents from harm and emotional distress. I do believe in the concept of free speech and of the general right of radio stations to operate free of onerous censorship.There must, however, be limits. On the morning of June 2nd, I dropped my infant son off at his daycare

Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13365999223775658292noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21847496.post-28218530382328272272010-05-25T11:42:00.002-05:002010-05-25T11:46:13.680-05:00

The evening started off peacefully. I ran a warm bath for the little guy, just like I do every night. It cleans the caked on applesauce and gets him calmed down for bedtime. This is an enjoyable ritual, and Mikey plays, splashes, and sings with great aplomb. It is a fact that an undiapered baby poses risk to life and property. Even a novice caretaker knows to be aware of his surroundings and of

Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13365999223775658292noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21847496.post-9669314634056599072010-05-21T09:33:00.000-05:002010-05-21T09:33:49.519-05:00

Happy Friday, everyone. Here's a video that's too good not to share. I'm a little sad that I'm now so easily amused and manipulated by 'parenting' advertisements. Madison Avenue knows what it is doing.

Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13365999223775658292noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21847496.post-42047890038568775622010-05-19T23:59:00.000-05:002010-05-19T23:59:36.114-05:00

I recently blogged about the Cozy Coupe, my mortal enemy of molded plastic. If Michael didn't have a serious baby crush on his precious car, that thing would have been a smoldering slag pile ages ago. As it stands, the car is getting some heavy use, and Mikey's even figured out how to lift his feet up so that they don't get mangled by dragging in the undercarriage. Sadly, his car drives like a

Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13365999223775658292noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21847496.post-66911162917132712332010-05-18T16:09:00.000-05:002010-05-18T16:09:29.815-05:00

Yesterday was an extremely typical day for the Sieber household. We got word from daycare that Mikey was showing exceptional aptitude at coughing and that he appeared to be sick. By that evening, the dude was lethargic and couch-bound (common behavior for me but not him). Unsurprisingly, his body temperature ran up to 102.2 F, and he started coughing more and more frequently. Here we go again.

Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13365999223775658292noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21847496.post-29248471532389204852010-05-13T12:24:00.000-05:002010-05-13T12:24:12.338-05:00

In the frenetic early days of parenting, my biggest battles were against uncontrollable newborn crying fits and dirty and wet diapers. Our little crying, pooping bundle of joy sat still and gazed out at the world. Our job was to keep the baby alive, fed, safe, and clean. Education was an afterthought. Parenting books advised us to constantly read books and teach our baby. This does not work well

Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13365999223775658292noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21847496.post-79713804690742260852010-05-07T10:04:00.003-05:002010-05-07T10:07:32.185-05:00

With the exception of some stories here about sleep, I've written overwhelmingly positively about the Mad Dog. Parents are wired this way. I am compelled to believe that my kid is dashingly handsome, physically gifted, well-mannered, way ahead on all his milestones, exceptionally sweet, and a saintly friend to all at his day care. I concede that Mikey throws the occasional tantrum. Bystanders

Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13365999223775658292noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21847496.post-27494716345156235042010-05-02T21:01:00.000-05:002010-05-02T21:01:32.888-05:00

Given the malleable nature of a toddler's brain and a propensity to repeat anything said by a parent, cursing is generally not a a great parenting behavior. The 'oh $h__' daycare incident at daycare drove this point home for us in a big way. Fine, I can cut back on the bad words. I've had some success until today. That's when the Cozy Coupe manufactured by the sadistic folks at Tiny Tikes

Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13365999223775658292noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21847496.post-16588435032035421262010-04-30T10:55:00.000-05:002010-04-30T10:55:36.248-05:00

This little bugger somehow worked itself into a tiny drain hole. It eventually lodged in the electric drain pump of our washing machine. This led to a very friendly appliance guy coming to kick it at our crib on Monday. That Hanes 2T toddler sock turned out to cost us about $150. Here's the offending foot covering, still wet from its big adventure:

Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13365999223775658292noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21847496.post-75240747074754255222010-04-29T16:12:00.000-05:002010-04-29T16:12:45.047-05:00

Sleep is a commodity wasted on the young. Oh, sweet sleep! I remember long bouts with you through the lazy, school-free summers of my youth. I miss that feeling of nowhere to be and nothing to do. To wallow in pure laziness until only biological needs or lunchtime hunger forced me to finally roll out of bed. I remember scheduling my college courseload so that I could sleep till 10 a.m. every

Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13365999223775658292noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21847496.post-5119220040067636282010-04-20T09:47:00.000-05:002010-04-20T09:47:58.770-05:00

We were on vacation in scenic and hideous Gatlinburg, Tennessee. This hill billy mecca that serves the dual role as gateway to the Great Smoky Mountains National Park and as a leading provider of themed miniature golf courses. It is a time-honored tradition in these parts to put a personal stamp on your vacation, to capture these fleeting moments of travel bliss. You can find all manner of

Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13365999223775658292noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21847496.post-55045159772073628142010-04-17T10:12:00.000-05:002010-04-17T10:12:07.083-05:00

America's Funniest Videos (AFV) one of the funniest programs on television. Most people don't appreciate the nuanced layers of humors here. I will admit the Bob Saget years were an abomination, but the show now rocks. I've seen almost every episode and every clip multiple times. I've learned valuable lessons about the fragility of life, the capriciousness of fate, and the depths of stupidity.

Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13365999223775658292noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21847496.post-51943749790318788032010-04-15T23:23:00.002-05:002010-04-15T23:26:04.629-05:00

"There she blows!-there she blows! A hump like a snow-hill! It is Moby Dick!" — Herman Melville (Moby Dick) A two hour journey through rolling hills west of Austin had brought us to this moment. Looming ahead, shockingly bare and pink like a giant granite bosom, was Enchanted Rock. After two hours packed into family hauler, our crew (Shannon, Mikey, friend Maura, and her kiddos) was

Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13365999223775658292noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21847496.post-78642572387990971082010-04-09T14:04:00.000-05:002010-04-09T14:04:10.091-05:00

Gather ye rosebuds while ye may, Old Time is still a-flying! --excerpt from Robert Herrick's 17th century poem I spend many hours plunked in front of my computer in lovely cubicle #RR3-G246. I fight with spreadsheets, get some neck pain, and maybe drink a cup of coffee or two. When I get home, I chase the Mad Dog around, do some cleaning, and cook dinner. After all this, I find it all too easy

Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13365999223775658292noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21847496.post-38428857821640315062010-03-22T17:16:00.003-05:002010-03-23T08:21:02.842-05:00

Children are a miracle and a gift. This boring old worn out platitude doesn’t really resonate with me. Then I start thinking about the series of insane coincidences and miracles it has taken to get to this point. My apologies for the dime store amateur philosophizing here, but it boggles my mind to step back and consider just how unlikely my good fortune and wonderful life really is. What if I

Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13365999223775658292noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21847496.post-75471689978288845202010-03-17T12:00:00.000-05:002010-03-17T12:00:25.196-05:00

This posting covers a potentially impolite topic. This is not a tale for the dinner table or the squeamish of heart. It is, however, a perfectly plausible occurrence in the grossed out world of the parent. Although this happened almost a week ago, I can remember it like it was yesterday. It was a dark and not very stormy night. Little Mikey was struggling against sleep, as is his way. Shannon

Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13365999223775658292noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21847496.post-48387828972477686432010-03-09T12:50:00.000-06:002010-03-09T12:50:08.064-06:00

I would like to share a food review I wrote at Yelp.com for Justine's, a French brasserie in east Austin. I like food, and I like writing, so Yelp competes for some of my mind share and time. Here's the review! Justine's Review Link We headed east on our quest for hyped and acclaimed French goodness. It was not so far east as Paris, but it was the kind of east that made us feel like we were on

Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13365999223775658292noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21847496.post-80398164102325239712010-03-03T09:56:00.000-06:002010-03-03T09:56:50.873-06:00

It sure is nice to see friends doing big things in the world. Last night, Shannon and I trekked down to the world-famous Austin City Limits studio to watch the national television broadcast of Keith Maitland and Patrick Floyd's documentary, The Eyes of Me. First, it was just cool to be in Studio 6A. I've seen the Austin skyline set in the background of dozens of televised concerts, so I enjoyed

Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13365999223775658292noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21847496.post-66556636273836181442010-03-01T16:16:00.001-06:002010-03-01T16:20:08.014-06:00

After 16 months with the baby (aka Mad Dog, Mikey, or Michael), I never cease to be surprised at the new challenges and, ehem, adventures that crop up. I have to ask, why wasn't I informed of this???!! Some things that have surprised me (part I): 1. It’s not the diapers that get you. It’s the sleep. 2. That said, ever heard of rogue waves? Those are the massive, unexpectedly huge waves that

Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13365999223775658292noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21847496.post-51069907138623326522010-02-24T15:51:00.001-06:002010-02-24T15:57:15.355-06:00

Helicopters are cool. In “Apocalypse Now, in one of the most awesome scenes in cinema history, a group of Army helicopters roars over the Vietnamese countryside in a raid on a beach village. The lead copter blares “The Ride of the Valkryies” as the squadron rushes into battle. In the midst of the chaos, Robert Duval as Lieutenant Colonel Kilgore growls, “I love smell of napalm in the morning.”

Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13365999223775658292noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21847496.post-30605831295235258742010-02-21T22:49:00.000-06:002010-02-21T22:49:53.810-06:00

I think the 80/20 rule applies to baby speech. 20 percent of Mikey's words make up at least 80 percent of his talking. Those words are: nana, dada, bella, mama, yeah, and no. He generally just repeats the word he is thinking about until he has a fresh banana in his little mitts or some other desired outcome. That's why what happened Saturday morning surprised us. I'm still not sure I heard what I

Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13365999223775658292noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21847496.post-85634864055538035432010-02-16T10:32:00.003-06:002010-02-16T11:13:46.269-06:00

Just look at this little face; the rosy cheeks, the big eyes, the pure innocence. Looks can be quite deceiving. Take a closer look. The stare is piercing and unwavering. The eyes are unblinking. His jaw is set defiantly. Mikey can string together a few words, typically covering his favorite subject matter topics: the dog or food. In this case, however, no words are necessary. "So, you want me

Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13365999223775658292noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21847496.post-3558452668519452702010-02-14T21:27:00.004-06:002010-02-14T21:33:41.260-06:00

It's V-day. Not the day of cheesy lizard alien invading dopplegangers. It's Valentine's Day,the day of love, chocolate, and hastily shopped-for greeting cards and plants. It's never been a huge day for me, as I guess I'm a pretty lousy romantic. I always envision big romantic ideals like a hot air balloon, champagne, and some delicious lobster. Unfortunately, my practical side kicks in. I

Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13365999223775658292noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21847496.post-88834478695464149052010-02-11T10:24:00.001-06:002010-02-12T10:36:27.186-06:00

I’m a bad parent. I’m here to beg forgiveness. I would like to thank the Academy for this honor, my induction into the 2010 Parent Hall of Shame (hat tip to Sarah).Every morning when we arrive at day care, Mikey’s hair is horrible. Oh, it's still cute, but he has bed-head. The back sticks up like a demented cockatoo or like David Beckham on a really bad day. He also has chunks of dried banana

Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13365999223775658292noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21847496.post-62253396994577853242010-02-09T14:25:00.005-06:002010-02-09T15:28:03.837-06:00

About 2 years ago, we rescued a scraggly young Corgi / Yellow Lab mix from the Waco Humane Society animal shelter. She's become an indispensable, maddening part of our growing family.A funny thing has happened with her on this blog. A single post I made way back when has steadily risen in the google search results for "Corgidor." To honor our intrepid Corgidor-seekers from all over the planet,

Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13365999223775658292noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21847496.post-25113166256820701132010-02-08T11:25:00.003-06:002010-02-08T11:29:50.843-06:00

Bella, the yellow lab / corgi mix, teaches us that dogs will go to great lengths to get food. Despite the fact that her dish was completely full of expensive dog food (with fancy shredded chicken bits), she still went counter surfing this weekend. Poor Sherman and Paula walked into the kitchen to find Bella standing on the counter on top of their freshy cooked Mediterranean chicken pizza chowing

Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13365999223775658292noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21847496.post-67265651429624105052010-02-04T22:02:00.004-06:002010-02-04T22:47:33.605-06:00

In the carefree days before little Mikey actually arrived, when I tried to conjure up a mental picture of the toil and struggle of parenting, it would always be diapers. I would see the America's Funniest Video's clip of the hapless dad, clad futilely in a goofy bandanna, trying to change a dirty diaper. He is overcome by the abject nastiness of the dirty diaper and succumbs to pitiful

Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13365999223775658292noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21847496.post-79329123484170870632010-02-03T18:14:00.001-06:002010-02-03T18:24:32.872-06:00

We will be compiling the dancing video soon, but here's a teaser...

shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00931359711869326822noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21847496.post-89411997813956191252010-02-03T10:44:00.003-06:002010-02-03T10:50:52.731-06:00

I hear horror stories from other parents about how their toddler won’t eat anything. These picky eaters end up hovering around the bottom percentiles of the growth charts. They receive ominous “projected adult height” prognostications that would imply a future of standing in the front row of pictures and having plenty of leg room in coach.Let’s just say that we don’t have that problem with Mikey.

Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13365999223775658292noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21847496.post-18131296589612370152010-01-30T21:19:00.003-06:002010-01-30T22:06:13.458-06:00

It was a cold and windy night. The scent of joint liniment, Just for Men hair dye, and Geritol wafted in the air. It was my birthday. 33 years ago in a humble log cabin or Birmingham hospital, I was born into this world.Birthdays used to be about having a cartoon-themed party or maybe a sleepover. Action figures and cap guns would be gifted, and one kid would always throw up. In mellow old age,

Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13365999223775658292noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21847496.post-19736193508128205742010-01-23T12:10:00.003-06:002010-01-23T12:31:46.448-06:00

The toddler sits in the wooden high chair, as his parents fuss over him. They offer morsels of food, sippy cups, and pacifiers. Maybe he smiles, and maybe he screams. Diners seated nearby curse their luck, as the table adjoining "the baby table" is certainly not the best seat in the house.The meal ends, and the baby and his entourage pack up for the road. It is the wreckage they leave behind that

Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13365999223775658292noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21847496.post-54085962212734038102010-01-22T12:46:00.002-06:002010-01-22T12:48:37.919-06:00

I made this graph to explain some of our experiences with Mikey

Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13365999223775658292noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21847496.post-59546610033673099562010-01-20T10:07:00.003-06:002010-01-20T10:25:05.904-06:00

We are doing our level best to raise a cultured young man who will appreciate language, art, food, and literature. We've researched an international preschool that teaches curriculum in Spanish, French, and English. Children graduate to Kindergarten speaking three languages and wearing little berets while listening to (and appreciating) jazz.We've already discussed which instrument that Michael

Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13365999223775658292noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21847496.post-5547769308887728052010-01-17T22:59:00.003-06:002010-01-17T23:15:50.858-06:00

Mad Dog continues his prodigious growth. He's holding steady at 95th percentile in height. He wears 2T clothes at 14 months. I eagerly await my chance to be an obnoxiously overbearing sports dad / coach.The vocabulary increases daily. He's no Moose Collins, but Mikey is starting to banter a bit. Words in regular rotation in relative order of frequency used: 1. NANA (aka, give me another banana

Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13365999223775658292noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21847496.post-4557414126621534752010-01-17T22:38:00.003-06:002010-01-17T22:58:58.865-06:00

We might have a crazed toddler in the house, but that will not stop us from having a marginally robust social life. So, this weekend we hosted the EIGHTH Austin food / cooking challenge party. We stuck with a winter classic this time with a good old fashioned chili cook-off.This edition of the contest featured a family friendly vibe. Mad Dog was in the house. He spent the evening wandering around

Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13365999223775658292noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21847496.post-52749242421202620312010-01-12T14:56:00.002-06:002010-01-12T15:01:28.773-06:00

Whoops! Please pardon the inactivity on this blog! To the faithful audience who has been left hanging for several months, please accept my apology. A lot of good stuff has happened over the last few months, so that should provide plenty of grist for the mill.Stay tuned for some real content very soon!

Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13365999223775658292noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21847496.post-23134543122445085382009-09-18T00:12:00.002-05:002009-09-18T00:15:11.409-05:00

shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00931359711869326822noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21847496.post-26573052862397810752009-08-30T20:49:00.000-05:002009-08-30T20:50:57.641-05:00

Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13365999223775658292noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21847496.post-44368589420083581812009-08-17T21:26:00.004-05:002009-08-17T21:53:06.581-05:00

My grandfather, bad dude, WWII Navy veteran, and dancer extrordianaire hit 85 years on the odometer today. Happy birthday, Pappy! When I visited Tuscaloosa, Pappy and I shared a few vodka and orange juices to end the evenings. I convinced Pappy to try out Tito's Hand Made Vodka because it's made in my lovely home town of Austin. This vodka tasted amazingly great, and I think Pappy was converted.

shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00931359711869326822noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21847496.post-22734908883475549372009-08-15T09:43:00.003-05:002009-08-15T09:46:45.366-05:00

++=We pick it up today.

Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13365999223775658292noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21847496.post-81001119771574707492009-08-10T20:47:00.003-05:002009-08-12T10:37:54.139-05:00

As I surveyed the cast of motley characters seated at the long row of tables I felt a tinge of pity. I could see the intense stares and hopeful looks on their faces. Some were just there for fun, for a free meal, or for the ironic humor that can be found in something as campy as an eating contest. Most of these tattooed,neck-bearded hipsters bore grave looks of intense concentration. Their eyes

Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13365999223775658292noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21847496.post-2584614985914720702009-08-10T12:14:00.001-05:002009-08-10T12:14:48.225-05:00

Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13365999223775658292noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21847496.post-50247573551518238152009-08-08T18:27:00.005-05:002009-08-08T18:44:30.749-05:00

Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13365999223775658292noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21847496.post-91812684690872704602009-08-04T14:36:00.001-05:002009-08-04T14:36:53.504-05:00

There we sat in the lion's den. We were waiting in a tiny gray cubicle set off to the side of the Ford showroom. Enticed by the siren song of a shiny new family hauler with room for our giant baby with accoutrements and with an air conditioner that can actually stand up to the 104 degree inferno that we call home, we had come to test drive a Ford Flex.After the drive, we started the old familiar

Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13365999223775658292noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21847496.post-9055799573460904892009-07-30T13:41:00.003-05:002009-07-30T13:49:38.718-05:00

The best food comes out of old converted houses. There's something about the creaking wooden floors, the aging fixtures, and the inevitable well-worn seating that makes the food taste better. The Waysider, a Tuscaloosa institution for breakfast since before recorded history, is such a place.My grandfather and I navigated our way through the old red brick buildings of downtown Tuscaloosa, over the

Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13365999223775658292noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21847496.post-25237305465038933922009-07-28T10:26:00.002-05:002009-07-28T10:43:28.297-05:00

There are scattered moments in this life when everything falls into place. You are in exactly the right place at the right time, and it feels great. I don't know if it was the first few sips of my jet fuel-esque beverage that was beginning to course through my veins. It might have been the classic weathered décor of an honest, authentic dive restaurant. Maybe it was the fact that I was having

Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13365999223775658292noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21847496.post-77434567529270177482009-07-23T01:24:00.003-05:002009-07-23T01:35:40.384-05:00

Saturday will mark Michael's 9 month birthday. We've all come a long way in that period, surmounting obstacles, losing sleep, regaining sleep, losing it again, and finding new adventures.How did we celebrate Mikey's 9 month birthday? We took him to a Well Baby checkup to be weighed, measured, poked, prodded, and evaluated. Here are the latest technical specs on our finely tuned baby machine:

Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13365999223775658292noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21847496.post-22612874336522630962009-07-14T09:24:00.002-05:002009-07-14T09:24:44.869-05:00

Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13365999223775658292noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21847496.post-1739773955740377802009-07-10T10:00:00.001-05:002009-07-10T10:16:28.584-05:00

We've made it through another day. Mikey has ceased his crawling, grabbing, gumming, pulling up, and otherwise creating mischief for the day. He has polished off his 6 ounce bottle, supplemented with organic rice cereal, and stopped rubbing his eyes. The tireless baby has finally tired. The infant sleeps.After a brief negotiation with Shannon, it is up to me now to attempt a high-stakes maneuver,

Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13365999223775658292noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21847496.post-25896781129108294632009-07-09T17:41:00.001-05:002009-07-09T17:41:28.137-05:00

Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13365999223775658292noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21847496.post-52632615591405577422009-07-07T11:16:00.002-05:002009-07-07T11:19:21.022-05:00

All is right in the kitchen. Little Michael is playing happily on the tile floor. He's long since mastered the art of sitting up, so there is no need to place a protective ring of pillows around him. Enter the dog, 35 pounds of rolicking, oblivious Corgidor. She dances sideways, hoping for a morsel of food, and runs solidly into the baby.He topples backward onto the cruel hard floor. The impact

Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13365999223775658292noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21847496.post-63120545721311640522009-06-23T11:08:00.000-05:002009-06-23T11:09:48.210-05:00

We certainly live in interesting times. Our little progeny is in the midst of a period of accelerating change and progress. This is like a golden age of baby milestones, a "Pax Infantus" if you will.Fine motor skills, which concern the movement and control of the small muscles in the fingers and hands are coming along nicely. This is evident in watching the remarkable efficacy with which little

Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13365999223775658292noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21847496.post-34664631975301005002009-06-14T18:19:00.002-05:002009-06-14T18:30:05.941-05:00

shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00931359711869326822noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21847496.post-67114310550314805152009-06-09T23:33:00.009-05:002009-06-10T00:32:40.132-05:00

I once heard that many teachers quit after their first 5 years of teaching. I've tried to find a valid source that actually confirms this rumor, but I've yet to see any evidence to support what I've heard. I do have my own experience as well as those of my friends and colleagues who happen to be teachers. Many of my very good friends made it to the five year mark, some made it even less. I

shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00931359711869326822noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21847496.post-46106900725356214082009-05-28T17:07:00.001-05:002009-05-28T17:07:43.186-05:00

I hold baby Mikey sometimes while watching television. We watch stuff like "A Baby Story" or "The Office" together. My rascally little kid does his best to make this an interactive experience. He is absolutely obsessed with the remote control. If he so much as glimpses it, he will lunge, wiggle, and struggle until he has the prize in his little hands.At this point all heck breaks loose. He starts

Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13365999223775658292noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21847496.post-10553921168895765522009-05-24T22:00:00.003-05:002009-05-24T22:01:57.841-05:00

Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13365999223775658292noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21847496.post-45901823564563952782009-05-23T19:58:00.002-05:002009-05-23T20:06:13.293-05:00

Something strange happens when baby Mad Dog takes a nap. An exothermic reaction begins and his temperature begins to rise. If you happen to be holding him, you too will begin to heat up. Any place he is touches will end up with a sweat spot. His hair ends up sweaty, matted, and crazy. He ends up looking like some tiny version of Doc from Back to the Future.Yes, he is a sweat sleeper.

Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13365999223775658292noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21847496.post-37804096960738641822009-05-20T18:52:00.000-05:002009-05-20T18:53:03.038-05:00

Has anyone ever died from puberty?

shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00931359711869326822noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21847496.post-55823602393198568652009-05-18T22:39:00.004-05:002009-05-18T23:23:46.738-05:00

Early in our relationship, circa 2005, Shannon and I took a weekend getaway to Dallas. We were feeling nostalgic, so we travelled over to Fair Park to visit the Dallas Acquarium and the fabulous Science Place at the Museum of Nature & Science.The Acquarium and Science Place were engineered as prime grade-school field trip destinations. Shannon and I probably went on a dozen field trips there. I

Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13365999223775658292noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21847496.post-15720635214175260992009-05-12T11:31:00.002-05:002009-05-12T11:44:51.730-05:00

Michael and I get ready for work and daycare together every day. I don my work clothes. He gets a diaper change and a fresh outfit for the day. I drink a cup of coffee and have a bowl of cereal while he guzzles a bottle.I love the morning bottle routine. With Mikey playing in his Exersaucer, I prepare the recliner. I carefully place the pillow. My coffee and cereal are queued up on the end table

Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13365999223775658292noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21847496.post-49598170978570256062009-05-10T23:05:00.002-05:002009-05-10T23:24:38.315-05:00

Ah, mother's day. I remember mother's day as a little kid. Mom drove us to Eckerd's and gave us a few dollars for us to buy her a present. I think I bought her some ugly paperweight thing with a red, fake plastic plant in the middle. She loved it, of course. I think maybe some other time we made her breakfast in bed. After that, we always went out to eat for the day.Over the years, the holiday

Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13365999223775658292noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21847496.post-6726884691201419682009-05-07T11:59:00.001-05:002009-05-07T12:02:16.743-05:00

I'm supposed to be eating healthier, but this was an offer too good to refuse. The text message came in from Chris (aka the Pizza Champ) at about 6:30 last night. "Preliminary Home Slice warning. Response requested" After a few quick phone calls, I was driving south into Austin for a free pizza at Home Slice.We went a little oddball with the toppings, but the result was outstanding. One employee

Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13365999223775658292noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21847496.post-17513960989086006112009-05-02T22:25:00.005-05:002009-05-04T14:47:40.941-05:00

Our formerly tiny, limp, 'better support his neck, little baby is changing fast. In the first 6 months, a trip to a restaurant was not a big deal. The only struggle was lugging his clunky carseat through a maze of tables and chairs. Mikey would stay buckled in his seat quietly watching us eat. That has all changed.We headed down to the Hill Country Galleria to for some window shopping, and our

Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13365999223775658292noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21847496.post-69161507894953570252009-04-28T12:49:00.006-05:002009-04-28T12:53:12.127-05:00

A cleverly presented cream cheese dessert dip won the prestigious Golden Apron at the 7th Austin Cooking challenge this last Saturday. Shannon's "Big Apple" cream cheese dip defeated upstart challenge rookie Matt's "Buffalo Hotness". The champ served her dip in hollowed granny smith apples. Judges used fresh apple wedges, pretzel sticks, and graham crackers to tast the dip. Matt served up a

Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13365999223775658292noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21847496.post-22111662180101892392009-04-24T09:47:00.002-05:002009-04-24T10:25:20.822-05:00

Keeping a blog updated is like shoveling coal into a ravenous furnace in the boiler room of a 19th century ocean liner. Sometimes your arms just get tired and you want to go and drink whisky while dancing an Irish jig in the lower decks. That's why this blog hasn't been updated in a couple of weeks. To those stalwart few who have remained loyal and checked in for new content, I salute

Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13365999223775658292noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21847496.post-54373627827935624322009-03-31T11:42:00.004-05:002010-03-09T10:51:57.732-06:00

Lounging is a fine art and a skill. You have to really commit to it and leave it all on the line to achieve pure comfort nirvana. I think Bella knows what she is doing here:This is the picture that I emailed to the Waco Humane Society to show them how our wonderful shelter dog is living now. Who needs a $1,200 Welsh Corgi when you can get an $80 Corgidor? Update: The response from Corgidor

Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13365999223775658292noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21847496.post-5873599595334637432009-03-27T14:34:00.002-05:002009-03-27T15:13:49.113-05:00

Quick Updates (I'm typing these very fast, probably close to 45 w.p.m., but you can read slowly if you want to savor them):Five Months:Earlier this week, the Mad Dog Baby (Michael Duncan) hit his five month birthday. He'll be covering himself in a Cookie Monster 1 year old birthday cake before we know it.Being five months old carries with it added responsibility and maturity. Among those

Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13365999223775658292noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21847496.post-77913207395481277502009-03-27T10:56:00.002-05:002009-03-27T10:58:57.698-05:00

There is a certain type of restaurant that pops up just about anywhere that has a picturesque body of water. You know the place; It's got a campy interior full of "flair". There might be nets, plastic lobsters, fish tanks, antiques on the wall, fake marlins, old license plates, or other maritime detritus. A gigantic bar serving potent tropical drinks always rounds out the decor. What about the

Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13365999223775658292noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21847496.post-33729377897139269042009-03-25T13:32:00.002-05:002009-03-25T13:38:10.183-05:00

We flew to Tuscaloosa for a quick spring break visit, and boy were our arms tired. We were also hungry. Luckily we dined on some pretty solid down home food. First on any dining hit list in Tuscaloosa should be Dreamland Barbeque. Dreamland has earned national recognition as a barbequed pork rib Mecca. The restaurant has since franchised and spread out over the south, but the shiny new locations

Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13365999223775658292noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21847496.post-86831508582112257602009-03-22T23:46:00.003-05:002009-03-22T23:54:50.006-05:00

Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13365999223775658292noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21847496.post-57821953219597044432009-03-15T16:30:00.001-05:002009-03-15T16:30:53.446-05:00

Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13365999223775658292noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21847496.post-38976091195961495852009-03-15T02:29:00.002-05:002009-03-15T02:34:37.254-05:00

shannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00931359711869326822noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21847496.post-47777063548596346092009-03-12T23:44:00.005-05:002009-03-12T23:55:58.856-05:00

While Shannon gets ready for work, she often places a drowsy Mikey in the bed next to me in her spot. All I want is just to sleep for the remaining precious minutes before my alarm goes off.Invariably, Mikey starts stirring, grunting, and fussing. His little arms are flailing and swatting at invisible bugs. The sleeper is awakening.This is a crisis. If he wakes, he cries. If he cries, then I'm

Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13365999223775658292noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21847496.post-31115277607384946732009-03-11T16:54:00.003-05:002009-03-11T17:54:42.180-05:00

Preliminary plans are shaping up for another friendly Austin cooking challenge. We've settled on a theme for the competition. We're getting back to basics and going with with good old fashioned dip.What:A food-centric party at which guests submit original culinary creations into a friendly competition. Contestants battle for the coveted golden apron and the bragging rights that come with having

Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13365999223775658292noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21847496.post-91508763234315164052009-03-09T11:00:00.005-05:002009-03-09T11:08:49.835-05:00

Babotage (bab-o-tage):1. verb: To commit a sneaky act that avoids an unpleasant parenting task such as changing a diaper.2. noun: a sneaky act that avoids an unpleasant baby task.Origin:Combination of the words baby and sabotageUsage:This morning you babotaged me! When you handed the baby over, he had a dirty diaper that you pretended not to know about. You were out the door before I noticed.

Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13365999223775658292noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21847496.post-59357500486830982662009-03-06T08:53:00.005-06:002009-03-06T09:35:11.788-06:00

Over the last several years, our friends Keith Maitland and Patrick Floyd have toiled away on a really cool documentary film, The Eyes of Me (formerly Keep Your Ear on the Ball). Following the lives of four blind teenagers over the course of a school year at the Texas School for the Blind, The Eyes of Me is a thought-provoking look into the day-to-day thoughts, emotions, highs and lows of

Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13365999223775658292noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21847496.post-8328788674857648632009-03-05T10:35:00.001-06:002009-03-05T10:37:08.201-06:00

Look, the life of a shrimp isn't all fun and games and singing Under the Sea. We scoot around eating gunk all day. We also have the good fortune of being the most delicious creature in the sea. Great. Everybody wants a piece of us. I'll probably be taking a one way cruise through the GI tract of some random fish next week or something. A few of us are choosen by our deity, the Great Net, plucked

Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13365999223775658292noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21847496.post-46516467645449456712009-03-04T10:19:00.002-06:002009-03-04T10:19:52.301-06:00

Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13365999223775658292noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21847496.post-9830947872946582082009-03-02T16:00:00.003-06:002009-03-02T16:32:50.543-06:00

Richard Thompson at the Cactus Cafe:We joined a big family outing (10 of us!) to see legendary British folk-rocker Richard Thompson play the Cactus Café at UT. I felt out of place because I left my beret and pony tail at home. We got to see an absolute master of the guitar play in a venue the size of a Starbuck's café. It was a real humdinger of a show. The highlight of the night was the always

Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13365999223775658292noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21847496.post-59310032179161058612009-02-26T17:03:00.002-06:002009-02-26T17:07:04.856-06:00

For every cute outfit you see a baby wearing, take a moment to think about all the outfits left behind. These poor fabric souls languish in a closet and never get to see the light of day, the flash of a camera, or the warming touch of a pool of spit-up. So many thoughtful shower gifts sit with their tags unscathed. So much potential cuteness waits and waits for the opportunity to be worn that

Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13365999223775658292noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21847496.post-45136432403935784772009-02-23T16:19:00.005-06:002009-02-24T23:02:38.602-06:00

Last weekend I spread happiness and smiles wherever I went. I wore a special outfit that was like a joy dispenser, generating countless smiles and happy looks from just about any woman who crossed my path at the Whole Foods Market. I was turning heads and hearing chuckles in my wake at every aisle . What was it that made me as comically heartwarming as a youtube video of box full of puppies? I

Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13365999223775658292noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21847496.post-62563703813934875932009-02-20T13:29:00.005-06:002009-02-20T13:44:26.131-06:00

Subject pictured is deploying destructive sonic wave natural defense. Nearby victims suffer headaches and potential hearing damage. This defense is finely evolved and astonishingly loud for such a small creature.Profile:Species:Homo SapiensAge:~.3 yearsGender:MaleHabitat:Pack and Play, Zen Swing, Bouncy Chair, Bumbo Seat, crib (rare sightings)Natural Defenses:Sonic shriek to frighten away

Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13365999223775658292noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21847496.post-74393009659504648672009-02-17T15:55:00.010-06:002009-02-18T23:30:06.082-06:00

Friends, we have established that I am incredibly fortunate to have a beautiful little son in my life. He scores off the charts in his ITGBS (Iowa Test of Good Baby Skills).A wise man once sang, "Every rose has its thorn...Every Cowboy sings a sad, sad song." Life with baby isn't 100% perfect. We perpetually walk the fine line between tired and shot-with-an-animal-tranquilizer-gun. We've put

Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13365999223775658292noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21847496.post-36556329848296483032009-02-13T21:29:00.001-06:002009-02-13T21:29:57.778-06:00

Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13365999223775658292noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21847496.post-8470498661015991382009-02-12T22:02:00.004-06:002009-02-12T22:44:06.075-06:00

I had the good fortune to grow up in a home where books were commonplace. We didn't have a fancy television with luxuries like remote controls, a viewable picture, or channels that weren't 4, 5, or 8! We had clunky box with tinfoil-encrusted rabbit ears. Changing the channel required a pair of pliers, a short walk, and a certain fearlessness about being electrocuted whilst cramming a metal

Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13365999223775658292noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21847496.post-48147757489333736502009-02-05T13:54:00.001-06:002009-02-05T13:55:54.387-06:00

Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13365999223775658292noreply@blogger.com0