LAST NIGHT WAS FREAKY (a digital short)

It's Halloween, and last night the Little One attended his first costume party. Today, we share with you his perspective on this Halloween thing. By the way, he went as a monkey. Can you figure out our costume at the end of the clip?

PAY US FIRST

Before they get our money, we'll give ourselves some first.

It's the end of the month, which means the next cycle of bills will be due real soon. We all know the drill… mortgage, insurance, heat, electric, cable, etc. They'll all get their money, and we'll wonder where ours has gone. Well, most of ours, anyway.

Each week, we make a point to put a little bit of money aside, before it goes to any other stakeholders in our monthly income. The Wife has it set up automatically to have a small portion of her pay check go into a savings account via direct deposit.

Mine isn't automatic, but each Friday morning I transfer a set amount into an account that we have set up for unexpected life expenses. By rule, we set this money aside before we have a chance to think about spending it. When I'm honest with myself, I can admit that money in my pocket is actually money in someone's else's pocket. 

Are there weeks that our approach makes the checking account tighter? Absolutely, which ensures that we are always aware of our personal budgets. But keeping it tighter along the way helps.

How much? Let's say you put aside $50 a week for an entire year, that's $2,600. If you do $25 a week, it's still $1,300. It adds up, and it comes in handy. For someone who understands true numbers better than theory and concept, spelling it out like this truly helps me maintain some discipline.

Take last weekend. The Wife's car got cranky. Real cranky. It needed work, including new front brakes and four news tires. A tune-up to the tune of $1,000.

You can't really predict that type of expense, though we've all been there. It is a massive punch in the gut.

Fortunately, we've had some discipline for an extended period. Much as it stings, we'll be able to pay off the bill in full, so no debt will accrue.

It's not fun, nor is it exciting. However, by taking the time to pay ourselves first, it really softens the blow when we have to pay other people.

REALITY CHECK

I am not a "fly by the seat of my pants" person usually. I adapt to change easily, but I like a loose plan in my back pocket just in case. We are quickly learning that, as parents, a loose plan is our best ticket to sanity.

Here are a few recent examples of loose plans and the wonderful outcomes they evolved into.

Loose Plan: Drop Grandma off at the airport and then return cable box and remote control to former cable company before the Little One needs to eat again.

What Actually Happened: Dropped Grandma off at the airport. Waited in long line at cable company briefly before leaving to provide an impromptu feeding in a deserted area of the parking lot. Along the way helped a stranger with a broken car and a forgotten cell phone call for a tow truck. Fed hungry but patient baby. Performed miracle cleaning of toxic diaper explosion while Little One laid on changing pad at a funny angle in the front seat of car. Purchased much-needed coffee from McDonald's drive-through (Decaf, but I pretended it was caffeinated). Returned cable box and remote control while smiling baby cooed up at me from stroller. Rewarded self at home with an afternoon snuggle with sleeping baby on shoulder. Laughed and smiled all day.

Loose Plan: Get ourselves to bed early and get the Little One on a nighttime routine.

What Actually Happened: The Little One took a long early-evening nap and woke up ready to play, play, play! The Husband took an unexpected, important work phone call. Bath time got a late start when dinner ran late because I forgot to defrost the chicken. Okay, these didn't all happen on the same night, but different combos of them popped up. several nights in a row. We are getting our act together though and a nighttime routine of pajamas, feeding, snuggle, bed is emerging. A quick book mixed in there would be great too. One thing at a time.

Loose Plan: Win the lottery so that one or both of us can stay home.

What Will Probably Happened: We won't win any money. We did win big though with this simple life we've carved out together. Plus, we like our jobs and found a sweet woman to take care of the Little One during the day. Being working parents Is not our dream scenario, but, given the economy, we are grateful to have jobs.

Needless to say, we are grateful for a lot of things these days,

CASH IN ON JOHNNY'S "TO DO" LIST

It's a simple list, really.

Despite the fact that he is a musical legend and there was a hugely successful major motion picture about his life just a few years ago, I know very little about Johnny Cash.

Never saw Walk the Line. Other than Walk the Line, Ring of Fire and A Boy Named Sue, I don't know the names of his songs. Actually, I only know A Boy Named Sue because of a scene from the movie Swingers.

While I may not be the biggest Johnny Cash music fan, I am a huge fan of the Johnny Cash "To Do" list, which I saw for the first time yesterday. Our friend Mick posted it on Facebook.

No. 1 on Johnny's list of "Things To Do Today!" - Not Smoke.

No. 2 - Kiss June

No. 3 - Not Kiss Anyone Else

Classic and simple. Personally, I don't smoke, except for a handful of moments in which the decision-making process was aided by the bottle. So we're clear there.

As for No. 2, I like the reminder to kiss The Wife. Such a nice priority to have. Love that the next priority is to not kiss anyone else. It can be that simple. Love the one you are with. Appreciate them. Show your faith in them.

Rounding out the list of 10 items were pee, eat, not eat too much, worry, go see Momma and practice piano. Cash also left himself a note to not write notes. 

All solid goals to have on a daily basis. If it's good enough for a true legend, it's a good list for me. 

DOWNSIZING FOR DIAPERS

Once upon a time there was a little girl who loved to watch t.v. She loved it so much that, after she was put to bed at night,. she'd sneak into her parent's bedroom and watch their t.v. while they were downstairs. When she went outside she often played a made-up game she called t.v. tag or acted out scenes from her favorite shows with her friends.

At the same time, In another part of the country, there was a little boy who loved to play outside. He played ball, hide-and-seek and other games. When it was time to come inside at the end of the day he often pretended that he didn't know it was late so that he could stay out a few minutes longer.

The little girl and boy eventually met and fell in love. They worked hard all day and in the evenings would sit together in their living room and watch their favorite shows. They enjoyed this time, but knew it wasn't forever. They knew that someday a little one would come along and change their world. They wanted that time to be filled with play and laughter. There would not be much time for t.v.

Since the Little One came along two months ago we have discovered that there is far more to "living" than we ever knew before. Television viewing was immediately replaced with diapers, feedings, and laps through the house to get him to sleep. This is an exchange we are thrilled to make. He brings far more mystery, excitement and laughter to our lives than any Patriots game or show about people stuck on an island ever could. There is no comparison.

With all of this fun going on, it became very obvious that we were paying the cable company for far more services then we now use. There was no longer a need in our house for a DVR. A major cut-back would also mean some extra cash in our pockets each month to add to the kiddo's diaper fund. So I bit the bullet and called our cable provider to start haggling. I had the advantage this time though. Our most recent contract was up and we were free to leave without a penalty. My strategy involved making this crystal clear to the sales person. It also involved calling our cable company's competitor first and dangling the move in front of them to get the lowest price if we transferred. At first the price was too close and I let them know this. I told them I'd have to call back. Miraculously, the sales person was able to throw in a discount that kept me listening. When I continued to waiver, she threw in some perks. Then I mentioned that her company was also our cell phone service provider. This somehow made us eligible for a sweeter deal that involved a bigger bundle of services (phone, television, internet and cell service) at a lower price. Before making it final I called our current cable company back and gave them the update. The sales person did his best to trash the other company's services and then claimed that they were lying about the price they'd charge me. I didn't budge and we said our goodbyes. Time to move on.

In the end, we took almost $40 off our cable bill each month. There was one more surprise in store for us though. The new deal included a DVR and movie package for free for one year if we signed a two year contract. SOLD.

PLANNING A THOUGHTLESS WEEK

As we adjust to our roles as parents, The Wife and I have a lot to think about now that we never had to think about before.

Who is going to get up when the Little One cries next time? 

Do we have enough wet wipes to clean up the next dirty diaper?

Do we have any clean underwear for tomorrow?

Just about all of our thoughts revolve around the Little One. For both of us, it's him first, us second.

If I'm being totally honest, there is far more pressure on The Wife. For now, she is still with him every day. When he's hungry, she pretty much has to be the one to respond. Well, unless I start lactating sometime soon, of course. 

It isn't exciting, but at least it's done.

She changes more diapers. She knows far more about which clothes still fit and which ones the Little One has outgrown. We call this the Sad Pile. We love how he looks in so many outfits, and to know he has already grown so much that certain clothes don't fit, well, we there are days we just wish we could slow time down a bit.

With so much on The Wife's mind, it behooves me to pick up some slack in other areas. So yesterday, before any football games kicked off, I made a quick run to the grocery store while the Little One was getting his third breakfast of the morning, courtesy of The Wife.

Using The Wife's food plan as a reference, I decided dinners for the week. The lineup will include pancakes, spaghetti with sausage (soy sausage for The Wife, a veggie head), tortellini and buffalo (soy) chicken with perigees and veggies.  

It's certainly not an exciting lineup. Well, except for the spaghetti and sausage. The Wife has never had the soy sausage, so we'll see how that goes.

The Wife didn't even mind
the junk food.

For the next week, the food doesn't need to be exciting. The key is to take away thinking for a few days. When dinner time rolls around, there will be no thinking about what we feel like eating. There will be no trying to figure out what we are in the mood to eat.

How did The Wife feel about the dinner lineup? Well, as I returned with the groceries, she gave a big hug and said, "Thank you." She didn't even seem to mind the bucket of chocolate chip cookies or the bag of chips that joined the other food.

She wasn't concerned with it. Nor is she concerned with the dinner lineup. For the next few days at least, she doesn't need to think about it.

WAKE-UP CALL (a digital short)

It was dark in the room this morning as we went to check in on the Little One. Despite the lack of light, he made sure his presence was felt. Ah yes, the boy makes his daddy proud.

DUCKY SAVES THE DAY

Although I use it all of the time, I'm not a die-hard lover of technology. I like convenience as much as the next person. We are a microwave family for sure. Sometimes, though, I worry that it is too easy for any of us to get caught up in all of the bells, whistles and apps.

That said, I love how easy it is to find information on the web, especially the useless or oddball kind. This week alone our household has googled everything from rare diseases to the music video to the song "Billionaire." Sadly, none of these searches could be counted as productive contributions to society.

Twice this week though, technology, more specifically the internet, saved the day in our house. The first "googling" was a frantic search to find the lyrics to "Rubber Ducky" when The Husband and I were prepping for another bath time with the Little One. If you remember from our recent home movie post, he's still not sure how he feels about this whole bath thing we make him do a few times every week.

The second incident happened today when the little guy was battling a tummy ache. I patted his back, bounced him and swayed back and forth, but nothing seemed to help. Each scream broke my heart a little more. Then I remembered how big a hit our "Rubber Ducky" rendition was and thought I'd give it another shot. In the midst of the chaos, I couldn't remember the lyrics. Luckily, our laptop was within reach on the other side of the bed. I googled the title once more. This time though, I noticed a video link at the top of the search results page. Was that Ernie? Was that a bathtub? Was that….a rubber ducky in his hand? I looked at the screaming baby in my arms and, in a moment of desperation, I strayed into the land of "I'll try anything" that all parents eventually wander into. I clicked on the video.

The next sixty seconds were heaven. The LIttle One and I sat there, side by side, eyes wide and mouths slightly ajar, finally relaxed, watching a video clip I hadn't seen in thirty years. We both smiled. Then the music ended and the picture disappeared. The crying started again, but a little quieter this time.

As I sat there patting his back again I thought about what had just happened. I didn't beat myself up for using t.v. as a crutch. I didn't feel guilty. For once, I just enjoyed the moment. Today my little boy watched Sesame Street for the first time.

HAVE A BALL, PASS IT ON

Time to pass the Rock on.

In 2002, my boss Bryan gave me a gift; one that had originally been given to him a few years earlier.

It was a basketball signed by the entire 1997-98 University of Rhode Island men's basketball team, arguably the best team in school history. Led by the electrifying backcourt of Cuttino Mobley and Tyson Wheeler, those Rams made it to the Elite Eight and were mere minutes away from the Final Four before it ended with a crushing loss to Stanford (an institution I hate to this day. Arthur Lee, may you suffer severe, uncontrollable gas every night from 10:40 until 10:47, you armpit of a man).

The gift from Bryan - who very well may have been just trying to clear shelf space in his office - meant a great deal to me. Bryan and I first met at URI, where he worked in the Sports Information office while I was a student reporter for the Good 5-Cent Cigar. A few years later, Bryan gave me my first professional job as a reporter with Patriots Football Weekly, the official newspaper of the New England Patriots.

As a Rhody hoops fan, I appreciated the ball. As a friend, it meant even more that Bryan thought to pass it along.

This weekend, after keeping it for eight years, I too will pass it along. The ball will go to another member of Rhody Nation, Destiny, who is a teacher in Texas.

Her classroom is the University of Rhode Island room at her school (each class is named for the alma mater of the teacher). She and I have never actually met in person, but we share a love for our Rams. We've gotten to know each other a bit through the somewhat random and unpredictable world of social media, and I know she incorporates URI into the atmosphere of her classroom whenever she can.

As a former student-athlete at URI who still follows the University closely, I know Destiny will truly appreciate the ball, much like I did. She'll be able to display it in her classroom if she chooses, and share a piece of her old school with her students.   

There's a part of me that will miss that ball, a lot. Every time I read the names of the guys on that team, guys I saw and talked to fairly regularly on campus, it made me think of that magical run they took us on.

It always stirs of memories. And memories are meant to be passed on.

PIE IN THE SKY

How do you make something that is already amazingly sweet and simple even better? You turn it into pie.

The tools needed.

Let me explain.

As The Husband mentioned yesterday, we celebrated his birthday last night with singing, gifts and the best darn ice cream ever made - Graham Central Station. (A lovely graham flavored ice cream with bits of graham cracker and chocolate honeycomb pieces nestled within.) I'll back up a little and explain our love of this ice cream for those who don't already know. It is delightful! It is delicious! It is wake-up-and-want-it-for-breakfast good. So good that our family is unofficially leading the campaign to have it stay as a permanent flavor at Newport Creamery.

It was a no-brainer that we'd celebrate The Husband's birthday with this ice cream. I wanted to make it extra special though. So, I set out to create Graham Central Station ice cream pie. The plan was brilliant! A chocolate crumb crust filled with GCS ice cream, topped with a marshmallow coating and dusted with cocoa. I wanted to cry just thinking about it.

The Little One helped spread the goo.

With the Little One by my side to assist me (well, seated in a bouncy seat on the floor), we set out building our masterpiece for Daddy. Everything was going great until the melting of the marshmallows. I over-estimated the number I'd need to top the pie and melted half a bag into an overflowing cloud of sticky goo. Spreading it was no easy task as well. I started to get concerned when I had to shake the spoon I was using out of my hand.

Fluff! I should have used marshmallow Fluff! Soft, spreadable Fluff was what I needed at that moment. Melted marshmallow does not solidify back into the soft puff it once was. I set out to enhance the ice cream. Instead, I managed to create a crunchy marshmallow shield that kept me from getting to the ice cream.

In the end though, the pie was a success. A culinary success? Not even close. It was a success because we were together and we laughed. This was not what I set out to do for The Husband's birthday, but I could not ask for more.

MAKE THE DAY SPECIAL, AGAIN

We were playing with the Little One the other day when The Wife turned and asked a question that I knew would be coming at some point.

Other than Graham Central Station ice cream, what do you want to do for your birthday?

Ah, yes. My birthday, which is today. For the last several years, I really have not looked forward to this day. It's not an age thing. Your age is just a number (for me, that number is 34 today). Turning a year older doesn't really bug me all that much. And I have to admit, I look forward to seeing a slew of happy birthday tidings from friends in the Facebook world. Let's face it, when people from all facets of your world take a brief moment to wish you happy tidings, it feels pretty darn cool.

My birthday - a source of true, unbridled excitement in younger years - has lost significant steam. It was always a special time for my mother and I, because her birthday is Oct. 20. Being one day apart meant years of getting to share something together.

If I could have one birthday wish...

When she passed away four years ago, that obviously changed. She's not here physically, and it's impossible for me not to think about that fact when this day rolls around. 

So when The Wife asked what I wanted for my birthday, I knew I wanted to do something that could take all other thoughts away, just for a little while. The Little One does that for me. 

When I get home from work, I want us to play with the Little One (who, by the way, is exactly two months old today - damn, time goes by so fast). When he gets tired and wants to go down for his evening nap, I want to let him sleep on my stomach until he wakes up.

It's my favorite thing to do these days. To him, my belly is a king-sized bed, and there is no better feeling than having him feel so content and comfortable that even a tiny baby snore or two sneaks out. Every once in a while, he'll sigh and smile with his eyes closed. 

It makes everything else in the world fade away just for a little while.

LET'S MAKE A DEAL

Ahhhh….free money! When I was a little girl, that is what I considered coupons. Although my mom was not a big coupon cutter, feeling the small reward was often not worth the hassle, she indulged my fondness for them. Every week for many years I dug through the Sunday paper to find them. There was no logic to my cutting. I cut out anything and everything, regardless of whether we used or ate a particular item. Every coupon symbolized more money and, In my mind, we were building a fortune, twenty-five cents at a time.

That little girl has grown up now, but some things haven't changed. After years of hanging up my scissors, I am back in the game thanks to a friend's urging. These days who couldn't use a few extra dollars in their pocket each week. I don't have dollar signs in my eyes anymore, but I do get a kick out of the challenge of hunting down a deal at the grocery store. It's as barbaric as this vegetarian gets.

Here is how I make my "kill."

Once a week the local grocery store fliers arrive in the mail along with a small section of Red Plum manufacturer coupons. I stash these in a cabinet, until grocery day later in the week. Then the fun starts. I begin by looking through each flier and circling sale items we need or usually buy. I then make a meal list for the week based on what is on sale. If up-front money and storage space were no problem, I'd probably buy multiple items whenever something we use was on sale. These are both limited though so, with a few exceptions, I usually only buy what we need for the next week or two. This keeps it simple.

The meal list is also very simple. I plan seven categories of meals and then choose a variation of each meal. The categories are as follows: turkey burgers, pasta, chicken or pork, breakfast for dinner, pizza, salad and miscellaneous. For example, on turkey burger night the toppings and side dish change based on what is on sale or what we already have in the house. One night might be barbecue burgers and butternut squash fries, and the next week might be Thanksgiving burgers complete with stuffing and cranberry sauce. This cuts down on the stress of deciding from a list of endless possibilities . It also allows me to use sales to stockpile a few staples that we use each week, such as pasta and chicken.

After the list is written, I jump to my coupon envelopes. This is my answer to a coupon organizer, minus the cute little case. I simply spread my envelopes out on a table, make sure stored coupons haven't expired and then match coupons with things on my grocery list. Several years ago we started using the backs of old junk mail envelops to write notes and grocery lists. Coupons fit nicely into this small space and it is less of a bother to carry than my entire coupon collection. I write the name of each item, the quantity I'll buy, the size of the container that matches the sale and add a bold "C" next to each item that I have a coupon for.

All of this allows me to have a pretty good guess about how much I'm going to spend and save each week. It helps me stay organized and illuminates the need to wander up and down each isle. Who needs to do that? I stick to the list and all is well.

As of today, we've saved just over $427 this year. It may not be millions, but I'll settle for a few cents and my sanity any day!

Stormy Bath, a digital short

It's the weekend, so there's a little more time to take a step back, relax and have some fun. With that in mind, we present Stormy Bath, a short (very short) digital film that depicts just a little bit of bath-time fun with the Little One.

CLEAR THE TABLE, CLEAR THE MIND

Seeing this every day for several weeks simply got to be too much.

Eventually we will use our dining room table for, well, dining. We've lived in our home for 17 months now, and rare is the meal that we have eaten at the table.

Unless, of course, we have company over. When we have company, we sit down at the table, face other people and have quality human interaction. We don't want company thinking we don't eat at the table now, do we?

So more often than not, the dining room table has truthfully served as a storage spot or a craft table. The latest project? Completing the task of writing thank you notes to all of our friends and family who supported us and provided gifts for the arrival of the Little One.

So much love and joy shared by so many people. The generosity was overwhelming. At times, so too was the task of saying, "thank you" to everyone.

With more than 90 hand-written notes to mail out, it was a multi-step process, to be sure. Several weeks ago, Grandpa (up on a visit from North Carolina) spent the day with the little one as The Wife and I cranked out the bulk of the actual note-writing.

The stacks of notes and blank envelopes sat in piles together on the table for a few weeks. We knew this was a process that we'd get done in chunks, so it made sense to leave the stuff there.

We were so touched by the support we have received in recent months, we wanted to add a little touch. The Wife came up with the idea of printing out pictures of the little one, and we had 100 4x6 prints made.

Which was great, until we realized typical "Thank You" cards don't come as big as 4x6 size. That's why last weekend, while the Little One napped, yours truly sat at the dining room table and trimmed each photo  - one-by-one - on three sides with a small paper cutter so they would fit in the cards.

As The Wife finished writing the remaining notes, I looked up and printed out the addresses for each person. She finished writing as the Little One woke up, crying from hunger. So while she stuffed him with food, I stuffed the envelopes with the cards.

The cards were mailed out (or handed out, where applicable). The hard part was done, or so we thought.

The leftover cards and pictures stayed on the dining room table. As did the printer labels, address book, the sheets of paper listing the names and addresses not in our book yet. It all sat there, taunting us every time we walked through the room.

The notes were done (actually, one last straggler went in the mail this morning), but the clean-up still needed to be done.

With each day that passed, the annoyance built. Much as you try not to make eye contact with the remnants of a project, it's impossible to ignore it. What starts as a small headache during the weekend becomes a full-fledged migraine after a few days. An hour of clean-up turns into a mountain of stress.

The mess is gone, as is
the headache that came with it.

Last night was the breaking point. The Little One fell asleep by 6:45 p.m., so before getting caught up in anything else (including dinner - hey, the desire to eat can make me a cranky but motivated guy), I sat at the table and straightened and organized until the table was clear.

As the last item (ironically, a bottle of hand sanitizer) was put away, the mind felt cleansed and a weight felt lifted. We could once again look at the dining room table and see a dining room table.

Who knows? Maybe one of these days we'll actually sit at the table and eat something.

THE TIME HAS COME

I'm a summer baby. I love warm air and sunshine on my skin. Most spring and summer weekends you'll find me outside in the garden, digging, weeding, planting and trimming. On summer evenings our neighbors are not surprised to see me outside after sunset, putting away my gardening tools because I'd worked until the absolute last bit of sunlight disappeared. For some crazy reason I even prefer to exercise in warm weather. A hot, humid day might slow me down, but it doesn't stop me from enjoying myself.

I think I've made my point. I love summer. The only thing I don't like about it is that it inevitably ends. Every year around mid-August I start to hear a ticking sound in my head that tells me that time is running out and my seasonal love-affair is about to end. Then school buses appear and the sugar maple tree leaves start to change. Days get shorter and nights longer. Gradually I get a little crankier.

This year, however, was the exception to everything I've just professed. I was nine months pregnant this past August and gardening and exercise were out of the question. When the season started to change I was too distracted by the new little guy living in our house to notice.

Then yesterday, as we set out to walk to the mailbox a few streets away, I noticed a chill in the air. I bundled the baby a little more, but refused to take a jacket for myself. All was peaceful until a block later when a light gust of wind blew past us, shaking leaves from a tree above our heads. At the same time I noticed a delightful crunching sound under my feet. We were strolling over a sea of fallen and crushed acorns.

"How nice," I thought.

Then, it hit me. It's autumn. The clock is already ticking and the days are ALREADY shorter. I need a jacket. This baby has to learn to like hats. My maternity leave is almost over. Soon, walks will only happen on the weekends.

We crawled home at a snail's pace thanks to my sadness. Back inside the little guy napped and I grabbed some lunch. As I ate I thought about the outdoor chores I'll need to complete over the coming weeks. I know that, as a gardener, I should appreciate autumn as a time to reflect as I prepare the garden for our long New England winter. I understand it's a necessary rest. Rest is good. That's what we whisper to the little guy when he won't close his eyes and what we think to ourselves we finally get to lay down.

Autumn is good. Autumn is needed. I finished my lunch, re-bundled the baby and we headed back out the door. Suddenly, taking a longer, second walk became the most important thing of the day.

KEEPING UP APPEARANCES

At some point every morning, I take a look in the mirror. Most of us do. After all, we want to make sure we are giving some semblance of a groomed appearance.

Even though we take a look, how many details do we miss?

With a shirt, pants, tie and belt hanging
on the bathroom door already,
most of the pieces are in place.

I've never been much for appearances. Sure, there's an effort to look presentable, but we're not expecting Ralph Lauren to call for fashion advice any time soon. Most days the outfit will at least cover the basics, even if whatever look I come up with doesn't cause anyone to take notice. 

 The last couple days, I can only <i>hope</i> nobody has noticed. See, it's been two weeks since my return to work following the birth of our first child. During the weeks of parental leave, daily outfits were, as they say, casual. Actually, on several days, clothing changes were optional. I can't lie. There was more than one time that I never got out of the clothes I slept in. When you are waking up to change a diaper or give a bottle every couple hours for days on end, it's easy to lose track of morning and night.

Now that work life has started up again, I have to re-learn how to get dressed. To be clear, I am getting most of the important stuff - shirt, pants, socks and underwear.

It's the other details I've been forgetting. Last Thursday, it was noon before I realized I was not wearing the shoes I had intended to put on that morning. A day later, I made it until 2 p.m. before realizing that I was not wearing a belt. Yesterday, it was my tie, which was crooked, which was pointed out by a colleague at 11 a.m. just before the second meeting of the day. Actually, the tie I don't feel so bad about. Doesn't matter that I wear one several days a week… I rarely tie it right. 

Maybe I'm distracted in the morning. After all, I freely admit being more concerned with spending 10 minutes of awake and happy time with my son before heading off to work. 

Socks, t-shirt and underwear... check.

Maybe I am more tired than usual. Possibly, but I've never been much of a morning person. Several years ago I forgot to rinse conditioner from my hair, which led to a very strange hair day. Even in those days, I almost always put together a full outfit. 

That's the goal this morning. To help this effort, I picked out my clothes last night. Everything was waiting in the bathroom this morning. 

I woke up, showered and got dressed (shaved yesterday, so no need today). No thinking involved.

We've got it all covered today. Well, at least we look like we do. 

The Start of Something Small

One of the reasons that we started this blog was to help us keep our focus as we try to simplify our life. You see, seven weeks ago we had our first baby. (See cute baby photo.) Seven weeks ago our lives changed in the most wonderful way. Seven weeks ago our priorities shifted. Seven weeks ago all sense of order also went out the window.

The Little One, minutes old.

You see, the little guy is so much fun and we waited so long to have him that, for a while, everyday life was on hold. We ate and showered when we could and tried to get in a nap now and then. The everyday stuff went undone or, if we were lucky, half done. Then the adrenaline wore off and the tired stick hit us. I love him to pieces, but the hormones + fatigue + a sink full of dirty dishes + one last pair of clean underwear started to get to me. In reality, the disorder in our house actually wasn't so bad. In my head though, there was a chaos everywhere I looked. The postpartum thing isn't a joke. What's a new mom to do? My way of restoring order was to try and multi-task myself to death. When that didn't work I panicked. And when panicking got me no where we had to try something new.

So, here we are at week seven, starting fresh and trying to make better choices each day. Our dream is to raise a spirited but centered little boy. To do that there is a new mantra in our house…."something small today". We are focusing on getting ONE thing done every day and simplifying the other side-dishes of life (chores, errands, etc.) that we may or may not get to on top of our one item to-do list.

Today's success was a Mommy and baby trip to the local Walmart with a five-item list in hand. To sum it up, although the trip started late due to a diaper "blow-out" and outfit change, the little guy slept peacefully for an hour as I shopped- not usually the case. I dared to add a few extra needed things to the shopping cart as well before counting my blessings and calling it quits. I knew I was on borrowed time with my sleeping baby. When I got to the check-out lane it was already twenty minutes past the two hours he usually spaces between dining sessions. To be honest, I had visions of him waking to an empty belly and letting out a red-faced scream so loud that it would send me sprinting to the car. I had unwelcome visions of me breastfeeding him right there in the front seat of my Honda while using the steering wheel for support instead of a pillow. Plus, I parked next to the shopping cart return area. Enough said.

In the end though, he stayed asleep. I paid, bagged my stuff and resisted the urge to high-five the cashier before turning to go. Something small was accomplished today. The other pieces of life can fall as they choose, but the rest of the day is for us.

WE HAD TO WING IT

Our goal is to try and accomplish something each day. Of course, you don't always get to choose what that thing is.

This morning, for example, The Wife was in the living room feeding our little boy when she heard a strange noise outside our window. She thought it was a couple of squirrels running on the roof. Turns out it was a small bird that had found its way into our chimney. With some heavy duty fluttering and flapping sounds, the bird fell down into our fireplace. Fortunately, the glass doors to the fireplace were closed.

The Wife called me downstairs and calmly (well, somewhat calmly) explained that there was something that needed to be removed from the fireplace.

The wayward bird,
behind the fireplace door.

I had my assignment: Get that thing out of the house!

Let me first say that The Wife is typically the brave one in the home. Bee whizzing by? She'll cup it in her hands and bring it a safe distance away. Spider climbing on the wall? She doesn't smother it in a tissue and flush it down the toilet. Nope. She gently gathers it in and then escorts it outside.

What we learned today is that birds are a different story. Birds, it seems, give The Wife the heebie jeebies. Birds cause The Wife to dance lightly on her toes as though she is walking on hot coals. Birds cause The Wife to make noises that are hard to transcribe but we'll try. It would read something like: "Uhhnnnnnuunnnnhuuhuhuh!!!!!"


If you watch Modern Family, you'll understand why The Wife earned the nickname Mitchell today.

We called animal control as well as a local wildlife rehabilitation center to see if there was an expert who could help remove our visitor. Both places gave us advice for extracting the bird and wished us well with the task. No help was coming.

The tools for today's mission.

We were on our own.

So we set about Operation Bird Drop-In first by gathering whatever tools we might be able to use. A plastic sheet, a bucket to catch the bird, a towel, some gloves and a plastic tray to use as a cover once we caught the bird (yeah, right).

First, The Wife taped the plastic sheet over the fireplace. That way, if the bird got by me (which it eventually did), the sheet would keep it contained to the fireplace (which it did not).

Talking to the bird didn't 

exactly help the situation.

With the sheet in place, I crawled underneath and got an up-close look at the bird through the fireplace door. As we stared at each other, the bird's beak looked awfully long and sharp for a little thing. It looked nervous, which is understandable. Imagine one minute you are flying around, enjoying the cool, bright autumn air, and then the next you fall down a dark, enclosed space that you can't get out of.

I tried talking to the bird, explaining that I was only trying to help it get out. The bird responded by wildly flapping its wings and slamming into three walls of the chimney. Wearing gloves and holding an old towel for added padding, I reached into the chimney toward the bird. It tried its damnedest to get away, flapping halfway up the chimney.

Things were silent for several moments, and we thought perhaps the bird made it to the top and back out the chimney. We shined a flashlight up to see, and suddenly the bird plopped back down to the bottom. Don't tell The Wife, but had I not been in a tight, cramped space, she would have seen me jump a country mile.

The bird was cowering in the corner of the fireplace, so I took a different approach and tried tossing the blanket onto the little guy. That part worked, and I could see that the bird was trapped between the fireplace window and the towel.

Sweet. We were almost there. All I had to do was gently grab the bird, making sure to secure the wings so it couldn't flap out of my hands.

That part was not so successful.

As I reached for towel, the bird found an opening and flapped out of the fireplace, whizzing right by my head and into our living room. The front door was open, providing a bright light for the bird to fly toward. Unfortunately for him, the screen door was closed, and the little guy slammed into the screen door window. This happened several times. Hey, the poor thing was frazzled and just wanted to get the hell out.

So I made my way to the side door, went outside and around to the front door so I could open it and let the thing out. Of course, as I approached the screen door, the bird got scared and tried to go out a different window, once again slamming into clear glass. Poor little bird.

As I opened the screen door, there was no bird to be seen. So I bent down to prop the door open, and the thing made its escape, once again whizzing by my head as it flew out the door. It wasn't exactly how we planned to spend our Columbus Day morning, but hey, the bird is out and on its way.