Half a Decade Later

I pretty much forgot this blog existed.  I found my way back here this afternoon because I was curious if blogger was still up and running.  Good for you blogger.  But I wasn't expecting to be so immediately emotional reading those old posts.  I guess it's strangely validating to discover that you find yourself quite humorous and touching?  But what it really did, was make me feel disconnected from the person who wrote those posts.  It feels like I'm living a different life now; one that is going incredibly too fast.  One that has not been captured and celebrated appropriately through sarcastic blogging.  

I wonder why the blogging stopped?  I think the easy answer is that life gets busy. Anecdotes aren't as  cute as the kids get older.  It becomes trickier to write about things involving other people without feeling anxious about their reactions.  Our kids are going to read it and have their own reactions.  All these reasons feel true.  But today is really the only day that you can ever say fuck it and jump back in.  So Father is back baby...  

This entry needs to get you up to date on where things stand now.  I am old.  It's gotten to the point where people who haven't seen me in a while like to let me know that my hair is really getting grey.  Always a very helpful observation.  I also now experience pinched nerves in my neck that take months to heal.  I guess. at my age, when you are engaging in the high risk activity of sleeping on hotel pillows, you pretty much are getting what you asked for.  And when I play pick-up basketball, people now refer to me as the old guy.  But it's not all bad.  I've realized that I can use my advanced age as a bit of a super power.  If you just shuffle around stiffly for the first couple of possessions, you can usually lull the young people into a sense of mercy... and then reject their first shot attempt back into their wrinkle-free little faces.  I've also started to toy with the idea of carrying around Werther's Originals in my pocket so youth can see me as a more approachable elderly.  

Mindy on the other hand looks young and beautiful.  She is working at Carter's elementary school in the gifted and talented program, where she is surrounded by a lot of positive support.  I feel like kids are always giving her things or telling her how nice or pretty she is.  I guess that's what you get when you are nice and pretty.  Mindy is a sweat though.  I wish I had the term sweat when I was young, because try-hards and sweats have always been around but not until recently have they been properly identified.  I used to be a sweat at some things, but now I am content to settle into the sweet comfort of consistent mediocrity.  But Mindy still puts her heart into so many things and I really admire her for that.

Now to update you on the boys...  Cam is a sweat at basketball.  He is a 4'11" basketball stud, shining in a world of post pubescent 8th grade giants.  I am so incredibly proud of his fearlessness and skill.  That dude has fallen in love with basketball like his old man did.  I cherish that we get to share that and I'm excited to see what exciting moments he'll have along his journey.  And Cam is a good soul.  Underneath his irritated attitude and adolescent omniscience is a kid with a good heart.  For the most part he has learned to stay out of the drama of middle school life.  I see him as flying a little under the radar, out of the fray.  Which is probably a pretty wise place to be at that age.  But it really hit me when I was reading those old blog posts how much he is probably still his 5-year-old self on the inside.  He's still that kid with the nervous energy, some shyness, and an eagerness to do a good job so he can go home and relax.  Well one day you'll look back at this blog and read these words Cam and I want you to know that you are doing a good job.  You are a sweat in all the best ways, just like your mom.  And even when you aren't, I love you more than ever.

Carter is still a mini Cam (in some ways) and a completely different kid in others.  I love to see our boys together.  They are still each other's best friends.  Carter looks up to Cam more than he'll ever know, and Cam cares for and looks after Carter more than I ever could have expected..  I read some of those posts about Carter and how he carries with him the "special" aura of the youngest.  Well that definitely hasn't changed.  I feel like everyone likes Carter.  Part of that is because he's perceptive.  He figures out pretty quickly what people aren't going to like and he avoids doing that.  Part of that is because he's a kiss ass.  He figures out what people do like and he tries to do that.  And part of that is because he is genuine and funny.  He is shy too, but he is also comfortably himself.  He is curious about things and has a great ability to slow down and really take something in.  It feels like Carter could be content doing anything.  He just wants someone there with him sometimes to enjoy it with and scratch his back.  Carter is finishing up elementary school for the Grave's boys this year and it feels like the end of an era.  It's hard to fathom him already starting middle school.  We may just need to take a year off and stop and look around a little...

Thought I'd end this blog by saying some goodbyes.  Reilly, our first dog and OG contributor to this blog died a few years back.  The early rivalry was intense between Cam and Reilly, but in the end they became great friends.  His absence left a vacancy in the house that lingered more than I imagined. Mindy's longtime friend Lacy passed away last year.  Lacy and her husband Chris were two of the few  who actually read this blog.  I would often think about them when I wrote this drivel and wonder if what I was writing would make them laugh.  So Lacy I hope this post finds you in a wonderful place and can make you laugh today.  Thanks for always being such a great friend to Mindy.  Lastly, Mindy's mother Linda also passed away, ending a difficult period fighting dementia.  I find myself struggling to find the words to write about this.  I was touched watching Ed care for her through those last years.  It truly was the embodiment of what love and devotion to another really is.  Ed you are a person who I sincerely look up to and am so grateful for.  Linda, we love you and you are forever missed.

That's all I have for today.  This sentimental old man sends you forth with a mandate to be a little sweatier in loving the ones you got, because life is short.  Talk to y'all in 2035.

-Father

Inside the Odyssey

Summer 2017 has been one for the ages.  We embarked on an epic month long road trip that took us to Vegas, the top of volcanoes, approximately 13 Chic-Filets, and back in time to when Mindy was in high school.  We pushed the limits of the mini-van and the patience of our children.  We almost ran out of gas in the middle of nowhere in 110 degree heat and I pulled my hamstring at least twice.  The van increasingly got a lean toward the north because of all of the commemorative magnets Mindy collected along the way.  We emerged from the exhaust of the journey with a toughness forged by the road and longing to set out again.  But I'm getting ahead of myself, let me take you back to the beginning....

The first notable stop on the journey was Las Vegas.  We made a point to stop here so Cam and I could partake of the glory that is summer league NBA basketball.  This was a highlight of the trip for me and I'm hoping to make it an annual tradition.  If you are an NBA fan and haven't done summer league, then your life is incomplete.  But, Vegas with children is a totally "different" experience.  If you have found yourself late at night, sitting by yourself at a black jack table in Circus Circus then you have also experienced the most depressing place on earth.  For the most part, Vegas consisted of  a lot of sweating and shielding of little eyes.  And the only thing that was won was a stuffed crab from a carnival game.  I will say though, that Carter seems to dig the vibe of Vegas.  We arrived to the hotel pretty late in the evening and barely even walked through the Casino before heading up to our room.  As we were getting ready for bed, Carter leaned back, put his arms behind his head and exclaimed, "so, who's ready to go downstairs?"  It's times like these that I'm sure Carter is going to be a blast in college.

After Vegas, we worked our way up to the Sacramento area.  The centerpiece there was Mindy's 20 year high school reunion.  That night I mostly tried to separate from Mindy, so I could pretend that I had gone to school there and make people uncomfortably question their memories as much as possible.  After the reunion, we spent our days exploring the factory infrastructure of greater Northern California.  My main take away was that if Miss Grossman could have just gotten Ronald Regan to endorse her stickers instead, then most people wouldn't have even heard of Jelly Beans.  For most of you what I just said is gibberish, but trust me when I say that it could be true.  By night, we lived a squatters life; persistently taking advantage of the kindness of our friends and family.  A genuine thank you to everyone who housed us and took time out to hang out while we were there.  People be taking us sailing under golden gate bridges, to Giants games, to botanical gardens, to shooting ranges with handguns designed to kill bears.  It was a blast.

After Northern California we made our way down the coast to my old stomping grounds.  Everyone but Carter made an afternoon stop at Pizmo beach for a quick swim; Carter found his way to "Fizzmo" beach where he gleefully taunted the ocean until he was shivering too much to continue.  We spent a super relaxing week at my families house, where Mindy and I got to sleep in every morning out in a trailer while somebody else cared for our children.  During our time there, we swam every day, the Dodgers never lost, and we solved the mystery of the zodiac killer.  But I know the highlight of the trip for the boys was getting to play the video game Road Blocks Jail Break with their older cousin.  It takes a little while to get used to your children becoming criminalized, but after a bit it becomes quite cute.  I mean, how could hearing your 4-year-old talking about stealing a "Lambo" and completing a "heist" at a jewelry store not make you smile?  And honestly, I don't even know what a Bugatti looks like, but I do know that allegedly we saw about six on our way back to Texas.  And because the apples don't fall too far from the proverbial tree, I will concede that a highlight for me was playing a bunch of NBA2K with my friend.  And in reality "Playing" is more of a euphemism for what occurred while I was there; let's just say that I like to envision my friend having nightmares of John Wall relentlessly coming off a high screen and dicing up his defense like a hot knife through butter.  That thought really makes me smile.

So, needless to say, it was hard to leave the PS4 behind and head out to Maui to celebrate 15 years of being married to my beautiful bride.  Too many incredible moments to chronicle them all, but ones to remember definitely include the lecturing lifeguard, child masseuses, blow hole water parks, and secretly sipping the good stuff from our hydroflasks.  Mindy, I always have fun with you and am so blessed to get to share life with you.  Here's to the next 15 years and many more awesome vacations.

And then after Maui it was a return to reality.  That looked like a 20 hour car ride home.  And the next day back to work.  But in my heart the vacation never stops.  Plus, I learned you can always secretly sip whiskey out of a hydroflask.

Don't make me pull this car over,
Father

PS - Most special thank you to our parents for taking care of our dependents while we were off living the island life.  You guys are the best!

Life in the Fast Lane

I was reading the blog to Cam at bedtime last night and it's amazing how many fun things I have totally forgotten about.  It inspired me to sit down today and chronicle some more minutia.  It also made me realize that we may need to destroy the blog in short order before the boys are old enough to really process the content.  So, let's just say that the blog is in a precarious point in its existence. 

So much has happened.  Carter is off to school twice a week, where he seems to bring delight and amusement to all.  I know I am completely biased on the matter, but Carter may be the cutest living organism in the history of ever.  And he fully realizes this.  He has a way of turning on his charm that can get him pretty much anything he wants and leave you feeling good that you were able to supply it for him.  I know I've written about this dynamic before, but it bears repeating because it only seems to be getting worse.  I think the clearest example of his capacity for mind control exists in his relationship with Meals on Wheels.  If you're not familiar with this organization, it's a program that supplies lunches for elderly or disabled people.  So every Wednesday - Mindy, Mindy's parents, and Carter set out on their Cedar Park route to drop off lunches.  Well, Carter has somehow found a way to transform this venture into year-round trick or treating.  Every week he comes back with an assortment of candy.  He's received stickers, books, DVDs, and snow globes.  I wouldn't be surprised if by the end of the year he had organized a way for everybody to just contribute straight to his college fund.  He doesn't ask people for things or carry around the things that people have given him to the next house.  He just carries an aura of "I am special and you should bestow upon me gifts."  Then he pretends to be ignorant of his powers and asks adorable questions like "why does everybody like to give me things."  Carter is sweet and carter is smart.  Carter is a major kiss ass.  He watches his older brother's attempts at open rebellion and sees them as an opportunity to increase his standing in the familial hierarchy.  He waits till the angry sibling has vacated the premises, then he'll cozy up next to you and let you know that he loves you so very much and you are the best parent in the world.  It's so pathetically transparent, but it never fails to be effective.  It's good to be the youngest.  It's good to be Carter.

Cam is also sweet and smart; but they are different.  Cam is determined.  Cam is strategic.  Cam is often serious.  Here's a story that embodies Cameron.  Shortly before the holidays I volunteered at Cam's school in the Watchdog program. As part of the day, I went to PE with Cam where they were doing the pacer run.  The pacer run is a fitness activity where you have to cross the gymnasium in a timed interval.  The time interval gets progressively shorter and you keep going until you can't make it across in the time limit. Let's just say that Cam is very serious about the Pacer run.  Going into the day he held the individual record for the first graders.  While waiting for his turn, a student from another class knocked him off his top spot.  And you could just tell by the his facial expressions and nervous energy that this was not going to stand.  The most amazing thing to watch about him running was that it was clear from the start that he had a clear game plan and he was going to execute it.  While many of the other kids began by sprinting across the gym, he started barely jogging, conserving his energy for the long haul.  When the intervals got quicker, he started anticipating the start signal and taking off a little early.  By the time it was only him left running, he was basically sprinting across the gym.  There was a real rhythm to it and he didn't even slow down or pay attention to the signals anymore; he was in a zone.  The best part was he was running in a collared shirt and tie for his Christmas program later that day.  And it seemed appropriate, because this boy was putting in work.  It was truly inspiring watching him just flat out compete like that.  He took back his pacer crown with a few extra laps tacked on.  Then he ripped off his button-down shirt and did the Cam Newton Superman celebration.  Ok, that last part didn't actually happen.  But I like to believe it happened in his heart. 
 
I'll leave you now with a quick story that illustrates the personalities of both boys.  While on a road trip to New Mexico over the holidays we were playing the "Would You Rather" game.  Mindy posed the question to Cameron that if he were sitting in his quiet classroom at school would he rather accidentally let out a loud burp or a loud fart.  Cam laughed at the silliness of the question.  He then thought about it for a few moments, carefully weighing which action would cause less embarrassment, before settling on the burp.  When Cam had answered, Carter said "ask me" in a tone of voice that managed to both remind me of Don Corleon and make it clear that he was sure everyone was going to enjoy his answer.  Then Carter waited for the question to be re-stated, paused poignantly to allow anticipation to grow, and said "both."  And there you go... no shame in his game.

Now go to bed boys!
Father

Graves Family Snapshot, August 2016

Carter's cuteness has reached silly levels.  He is well aware of this fact and the powers that it affords him.  Sometimes he is very obvious with his behavioral modification techniques.  After the parent has acquiesced to his desires he will wait a good amount of time (in order to allow the effect of his charm to grow and appear more sincere) and then hit you with a words of kindness that melt your heart.  Other times, he will get you to do his bidding while you have no clue that he has just played you for a fool.  You'll do it with a smile and pine for an opportunity to please him again.  But the worst part, is when you tell him no.  He freezes in a state of shock while his face slowly morphs into the saddest expression in human history.  This is followed by 2 to 3 full tears falling silently from his left eye and culminates in the sound I imagine killer whales to make when they are separated from their family.  Trust me when I tell you that you do not want to be the cause of this.  Just do what he wants.  You'll feel a lot better about yourself.

So I know it's not uncommon for preschooler's to be quite obsessive.  But it was a little odd when 3-year-old Carter became obsessed with girls.  He rooted for girls on TV shows and video games.  He carried around a small army of female super heroes wherever he went.  He would ask you to tell him stories and sing him songs about Wonder Woman every night.  Let me tell you there is only so much that you can rhyme with lasso of truth and bracelets.  Things reached really bizarre levels when we left our summer vacation to California with some new biblical action figures.  Mindy walked in to find Carter using Wonder Woman to tie up Jesus with the lasso of truth.  I'm hopeful that some big theological questions were settled that day.  And...I'm pretty sure there has to be some sexual fetish implications later in life.  I would say we shall see, but I'm pretty sure that what happens on the invisible plane stays on the invisible plane...

On to Mr. Cameron.  He started first grade last week.  I remember a year ago and how big a deal it was for him to start school.  Now it just feels like old hat.  He has done great at school and I am super proud of him.  It just feels like he is growing up so quickly.  And I feel like we are entering a new stage in our relationship where I get to use him as an excuse to do/buy fun things.  Recently, a California buddy and I decided it was time to introduce our children to the world of real video games.  So we purchased some Play-Station 4's.  But I quickly realized that the world of real video games has had quite a few upgrades since I was in college.  I stared at the magical box for about 2 minutes trying to figure out how to put in the game.  Then I played my first few games with the controller plugged into the unit, before I realized that it had wireless capabilities.  Mind blown.  But I quickly got the hang of it and fell back into form.  And when Cam wandered out of bed at 3 am one morning and caught me still up playing NBA2k I felt a surge of shame that made me feel truly young again.  In all seriousness though, I'm excited for these coming years and getting to re-experience childhood from a new perspective.  And in a conversation with Mindy I would typically follow that poignant remark with something subtle like, "you know the new Madden came out last week."  See what I did there?  But then she caught on and started planning a surprise birthday trip for Cameron to Disneyland. Check mate!

Speaking of aging, it seems that I have definitely passed on my fear of death to both children.  Cameron will randomly bemoan the impending demise of Reilly.  This is an actual quote from Cam.  "One day Reilly will just be running. And then he won't.  Because he'll be dead. (loud sobbing, throw self on bed in dramatic fashion, and scene)."  And this is all said directly in front of Reilly, while he just stares at Cam with a WTF look on his face.  Now Carter has taken up the narrative.  He has started peppering Mindy with questions like, "Who is going to be my mommy when you die?"  Mindy told me her response to this and it sounded very caring and soothing.  She probably should have just said Wonder Woman and been done with it.

Highlights from Christmas Vacation

1) Life is better when every day holds the real possibility that a shirt will not be necessary.  Witnessing Cameron's love for sitting in his boxers playing video games makes me really fear for his success in college.

2) Speaking of video games, Mario Kart was rediscovered.  There wasn't a day that went by where the whole family didn't engage in multiple grand prixes.  Carter "races" by grabbing a steering wheel and assuming a dictatorial role in what characters and tracks are selected.  Then he  "steers" his way down the track and takes ownership of all results.  Teaming up with Carter on team "Peach" is not something to be taken lightly.  What is said if you miss out on the podium will not leave you feeling good about yourself.

3) It was about 2 days into our re-discovery of Mario Kart that I realized that Cam is better than me at the game.  I knew the day would come when he would surpass me at just about everything, but I wasn't quite prepared for it to happen at the age of 5.  It really is a little humbling when you are trying your best at something and consistently being defeated by someone who is still in a booster seat.  So what did I do when I came face-to-face with the demise of my video game dominance?  Well, those who know me well know damn well what I did.  I alternated between whining about unfair playing conditions and hours of practice until I knocked that little punk off my throne.  It took honest analysis of my weaknesses and a willingness to unleash a fury of shells on a Kindergartner, but I am proud to inform you that I am again a welcome member of team Peach.  And there may have been a few occasions, early on in my return to glory, where I circled the living room mimicking Peach's victory celebration by blowing kisses in my opponents faces.  But that is how we do.  And in all seriousness, it is super fun to really compete with Cam. At this point it's pretty back and forth between us, but I shudder to think what will happen when he masters the drift.  My hunch is we are not going to be seeing many kiss-filled victory laps for a while again...

4) Carter decided to potty train himself over the break.  Such is the way of the second born I suppose.  The first one was prodded toward the feat with an array of stickers and anxious encouragement.  The second one stepped into the void of our indifference with nonchalant mastery.  The dude just decided one day that he was going to henceforth relieve of his waste in the toilet. There you go.  My favorite part of the experience is when he started calling the final sprinkle of his urine "raindrops."  I've encouraged him to emphasize his catch-phrase with some "Along Came Polly" flair.  So, if you here "raindrops" shouted from the vicinity of our bathroom you may want to wipe the toilet seat before you sit down.

5) I wasn't there for this one, but apparently Carter got knocked over by a bigger kid in a Chick-fil-A play area.  When they got to the car and Mindy asked more about what happened, Carter declared that the next time they go to Chick-fil-A he's going to "fight that guy."  This was then followed by Cam and Carter describing the exact methods of physical violence they were going to perpetrate on this kid.  That's right kid, you better watch out because the Graves' boys are coming for you.  At least that feels like a good idea from the safety of their mini-van.  Maybe a next step in that direction would be a drive-by, where they could roll down the windows and let him hear their empty threats.  I'm just saying...

6) Mindy and I spent about 10 minutes arguing about which direction was clock-wise on a ceiling fan.  I still have no idea, but am certain I am right. 

7) We had a garage sale in which we cleared our house of most of our baby stuff.  Cam was super excited about it because he and Carter got to keep the earnings for their college funds.  I'm often a little hesitant to get rid stuff, because a lot of things are associated with good memories and my inclination is to hold on.  But, I liked the garage sale.  It was kind of cool to see the stuff go to people who actually wanted it, rather than just dropping it off at Goodwill or something.  And it was a good way to meet new people in our community.  Garage sale people have an interesting culture.  Most of the stuff we were basically just giving away to the first person who showed interest, but I did try my hand at haggling.  My favorite moment is when I got in a heated negotiation over the value of a "dinosaur walker". I really didn't like this guy's general demeanor and wasn't about to part with this prize of toddlerhood for less than $3.  But when he walked away unexpectedly from the bargaining table, that left me determined to sell that baby to somebody.  The amount of hype that the dinosaur walker received that day was Tebow-esque.  It still saddens me greatly that it didn't end up fetching more than $2.  Ridiculous.  Anyway, at the end of the day Cam and Carter have about 65 more dollars toward supporting their young-adult video game addictions.

Overall, fun was had by all.  Monday was a hard day for half of the household as the reality of a return to work/school loomed.  But Cam and I will be seeing a lot of each other this Friday as I will be joining him for a parent volunteer day. They have a program at his school where Dad's are encouraged to take on a faux security guard role and patrol the halls of the school.  I'm not joking about this.  And I am planning on attacking this venture with a Dwight Schrute like intensity.  There will be a zero tolerance policy in the halls for student and teachers a like.  And I'm excited to blog about my observations that day.  In fact, I'm toying with the idea of live-blog from my patrol.  But we'll see what happens...

Happy New Year,
Father

And the second one gets a whole paragragh

Carter has taken to calling me back into his room after his bed time routine to tell me, "sometimes I love you, sometimes I hate you."  He says it with a smile, like he knows he's the cutest thing in the world.  But I know he's putting me on notice.  I better step up my parenting and stop messing with his eternal will or I will be deprived of his charm.  It's a pretty effective strategy.  And I don't know if a lot of two-year-olds are perpetual trash talkers, but this one is like Gary Payton in his prime.  If he wins at something he lets you know.  If he loses, he usually still thinks he won and let's you know.  He mostly just works with the phrases "I win," "how you like that," and "yeah baby" in various sequences, but he also sprinkles in the occasional "in the face."  I'm sure he is socially reinforced for all of this.  Things Carter love include: Thomas the train, Peach from Mario Kart, puzzles, and his brother.  That little dude adores his brother.  He mimics his actions with cult-like fervor.  And it seems like the cult mostly consists of rituals involving nudity and/or quests for parental attention.  Carter is the sort of kid who is usually down to try new things, as long as those new things aren't food.  He's already discovered the art of sarcasm and the power of withholding his affection.  He's sweet and cuddly.  He's smart and always paying attention.  He can go 15 minutes without saying a word and then jump right into the middle of the conversation.  He's a great kid.  To know Carter is to love him.  Unless you are on the losing end of a puzzle race with the little punk...

The Last Weeks of a PreSchooler

It's two weeks away and I'm already emotional about Cameron starting Kindergarten.  It just feels like the end of an era. The mornings of playing football, building train tracks around the house, and mocking Morton on Mario Kart are going to be whittled down to an unacceptable amount.  Cam and I took a father son day this past week where we dominated the pre-school haunts of northern Austin.  The day is winding down and we are sitting on the steps of a pool talking about what we are going to grab for dinner on the way home.  Cam looks at me in all earnestness and says "I just don't want this day to end."  And that's exactly how I feel too. That's how I feel about this Kindergarten thing.  It's an ending that we can't avoid.  I look at my already too independent son and know that these days will soon be a memory.  Never in my life will I know another person the way I knew pre-school Cam.  I know the way that dude thinks.  And I know in days to come he is going to stop sharing all those thoughts with me.  And it makes me overwhelmingly sad.  I am positive I will miss these days.

Cam did a soccer camp this past week at the YMCA.  Whenever I drop him off at stuff like this I am struck by how little he is.  And how brave he is.  Cam has always been a pretty anxious and careful kid. And he's never taken separation / goodbyes easily.  So I can see the stress in him as he walks into camp.  He used to put his hands in his mouth and freeze.  Now he takes a big breath and puts his hands on his hips, like a nervous super-hero in an oversized backpack.  And he walks straight into this world of chaos by himself.  On the first day of camp there is a wrist-band mishap, and he ends up playing volleyball with 9 to 16 year-olds.  That night he is giddy.  He was befriended by some 12-year-old girls who tell him "he is there new best friend."  He said that he looked for them at lunch and couldn't find them.  But he "likes sitting by himself."  He also has a bag of chips with him, still sealed, that they were given that day.  He says that he wasn't able to open it and the counselors told them they needed to do it on their own.  I learned that volleyball coaches are hard core about independence in snack consumption. 

Cam actually made it to soccer the following day and again comes home super excited.  He gleefully told Mindy that he has a surprise for her; he has "found" something at camp.  With a big smile on his face he reaches into his backpack and pulls out... red boxer shorts.  My son has stolen someone else's underwear and is super fired up about it.  He paints himself as more of a scavenger than thief, saying that he found them by his clothes at the swimming pool.  But I'm not ruling out the origins of a fetish.  And one can only imagine the conversation happening at home from the other side of this transaction.  Better to come home with options in the underwear department than none at all.

He took Wednesday off from camp for the father-son day and there are two important things to note here. First, Cameron has basically mastered the game of golf.  And when I say mastered, I mean he has already learned how to take an inordinate amount of time to line up his shot, throw his club across the course, threaten to quit while he just keeps playing, conduct dubiously favorable score keeping, and celebrate like a mad-man when he gets a hole in one.  There must be something about golf that just intrinsically elicits all of this.  There really is no other way to play.  Second, even one day of hanging around with pre-teen girls makes you work the phrase "oh my god" into every other sentence.  It was like playing putt-putt with the plastics from Mean Girls.

The next two days Cam finished out soccer camp.  Friday after camp, Mindy notices another foreign item in his back pack.  She cautiously reaches in and pulls out... a medal engraved with "Camper of the Week."  Apparently the Y selects one camp member whom they feel has really stood out in a positive way.  From the hundreds of kids at this camp they selected our little five year old.  I think they made an excellent choice.  I know that Cam is a special kid, but most every parent feels that way about their kids.  It really makes me so proud and happy that on that day somebody else saw something special in him.  I don't know if it was the dual sport talent, the spotty attendance, or the humility displayed by returning dirty stolen boxers; but something stood out.  And I guess in all this is the good and the bad of him starting school.  However hard it is to say goodbye to these days and let-go some of our control, I'm so excited to see who he is going to become.  I'm excited to see how he evolves under the guidance of other people who will provide so many different experiences and perspectives.  I think that Cameron is going to flourish out there.  So watch out world and keep an eye on your underwear, because Cameron Graves is stepping out. 

If you say it, I will blog it...

Sometimes your children can provide you with a clear glimpse of how you are seen by others.  I listen to my eldest son chastise his pretend friend "Kiko" on the "phone" about the horrible fantasy football offers he is receiving and I can't help but realize just how cool I really am.  It melts my heart to hear him negotiate with such a firm, yet inviting, tone.  Kiko has no chance.  Nor does his younger brother.  Cam has already mastered the art of deniable aggression.  The amount of "accidental" toddler assault that occurs in our house is impressive.  It's like watching Blake Griffin roam the court of Staples Center.  There is a lot of bulling over people accompanied by a blank facial expression. But, if his intentions are questioned, this expression seamlessly morphs into a mix of confusion and outrage.  My favorite response from Cam though is when he tries to explain why he just spiked his brother to the floor by stating, "I was just curious what would happened."  After all, who would fault such a sweet young man in his sincere quest for knowledge.  He cracks me up.  Although, I'm not going to lie, sometimes his words can sting.  He has a way of trash talking that cuts straight to your core.  Let me give you my 3 favorites of recent memory.

1. In a conversation about both of our upcoming birthdays, I ask him if he would rather be turning 5 or 35.  Cam: "5, because I'm skinner."  Boom.

2. While coloring with Cam, he comments that I am better at staying between the lines than he is.  Me: "Well, I'm a grown up so I've had more practice."  Cam: "Oh yeah, well you're going to die first."  Later that night I made sure to go through his texts with Kiko to make sure he doesn't have any assassination plans.

3. At bedtime one evening Mindy asked him what he wanted for Christmas.  Cam: "A new daddy."  Dude!  WTF?  How does one respond to this?  I took a page out of his playbook. I pretended I did not hear it and "accidentally" hip-checked him off of the bed.  How you be feeling about that weight differential now?!?!

Sometimes I'm thankful that Carter can't speak.  Like all great Grave's men he is somewhat delayed in the speech department, so Mindy has been taking him to speech therapy a couple of times a week.  But I think she is wrong to be encouraging him. I don't need two of these tiny tyrants ganging up on me.  Carter already torments me with his limited sounds.  He almost always makes a distinct grunting noise as he is emptying his bowels.  That's actually quite nice because it let's us know when he needs to be changed.  The issue arises when he replicates this noise while you are changing his diaper and then laughs hysterically at your reaction.  Verrrry funny Carter.  It's not fun being punked by a 1-year-old.

In other news: Our household is becoming quite accomplished at Mario Kart.  Cam just celebrated his 5th birthday in Ninja Warrior Style.  Carter is following in his brother's footsteps with his disdain for gym childcare.  We are looking forward to a fun spring and summer of getaways - including our annual pilgrimage to So-Cal for the 4th of July.  And life (at least the short amount I apparently have left) is good.

Because I said so,
Father

National Graves' Vacation

Let's get right to it.  I'll supply you with a word or concept and then fill you in on every thing I've learned about that this summer.

Arkansas: Bill Clinton is a big deal here.  People here are so obsessed with merging before a lane closure that it's like having your own 4 mile express lane if you choose to drive like a rational human being.  However, the locals do not look kindly on this kind of rational thinking and making the choice to do so may put your life in danger.  On another note, this state does not supply their public restrooms with toilet paper.

Best Western Hotels: This establishment sometimes decides to merge its breakfast dining area with a Jacuzzi super store.  Using the spa to re-heat your entrée is frowned upon.

Dodger Stadium: Does not condone the consumption of alcoholic beverages in their parking lot.  And my powers of speech / self-confidence automatically revert to that of a 13-year-old when I am approached by a bike cop.

Chris Harrison: Throws employees off balconies in fits of power-hungry rage after people have the audacity to refer to him as "just a host."

Mindy Graves: Turns 35 tomorrow.  In honor of this event, she has trained our eldest son to refer to her as a "young lady."  She is a beautiful young lady.  She is obsessed with souvenir magnets and the magnetic attraction between Andi and Josh.  She makes pretty much everything in my world better (possible exceptions include my pride in regard to trivia games and my enjoyment of Wes Anderson films).

Billboards in the South: Are awesome. This is a coffee table book waiting to happen.  These were the three favorite I remember from our trip.  1) "Human Trafficking is NOT ok."  Actually helpful, because I was torn on this issue before I saw the sign.  2) "Use the rod - save your child's life." Our children did not like this one as much.  3) An advertisement for Truck stop / Indian food that stood next to a burnt down building.  I wouldn't have thought that those two things would mix well, now I know that they don't. 

Southern Californians: Should be required to spend at least one summer day in Atlanta each year before whining about the temperature outside.

Cameron Graves: Is not lacking for self esteem.  This week he expressed that he is "the best soccer player of all times" and "never makes mistakes because I am perfect."  He is also constantly fine-tuning a comedy routine centered around the word "booty."  Mindy does not appreciate his act so much, but I think she's missing the subtly of his genius.  My hope is that with the right encouragement he will continue to practice this material on Mindy non-stop until he is the greatest comedian of all times.

Carter Graves: I am often amazed at his ability to know what he wants in life and communicate that so clearly.  And he accomplishes this with a vocabulary of 3 words.  I have thousands of words at my disposal and struggle with this daily.  It should also be noted that Carter is at a stage of adorableness that words cannot describe. 

Family: We are blessed with such a generous and loving extended family.  I am very thankful that we got to spend time together this summer and look forward to many more summer vacations around the USA.

Mississippi: After our stay at the Motel 6 in Meridian, I was ready to crown it as the worst state in the union.  But then I remembered my three days of gambling and pool-hopping in Biloxi, I remembered how the sweet waters of the gulf coast can make a man come alive, I remembered chanting the name of that black jack dealer on the $5 table and drunkenly falling asleep by myself at our hotel diner... and I hate myself for even thinking about putting it in the bottom three.  So, you're welcome Arkansas.  The honor is still yours.

No, we are not there yet,
Father

In Love and Basketball

I have this fatherhood thing on lock.  It's simple.  All you need is a strong combination of classical condition and strategic withholding of fatherly love to really mold a child into something special. I have no idea if Cameron is going to grow up to be "happy" or a "productive member of society," but I do know that he is of great amusement to me.  Allow me to run through a typical day in the life of Cameron Graves.  He starts off the morning with a game of NBA 2K 2014 on the IPAD.  He typically likes to be the Lakers or the Thunder.  He tirelessly feeds the ball to Kobe or KD, respectively.  I have found that his choice between the two is correlated with his mood for the day.  Kobe days are tough for everyone.  But sometimes he likes to be the Heat, so he can play with their power forward "Squish Squash" or their point guard "Mario Chompers."  What he lacks in auditory processing, he makes up for in cuteness.  When Ipad time is over, it's time for the real basketball to begin.  No exaggeration, he probably plays multiple hours of basketball a day.  We play one-on-one where he makes up which teams we are.  We play 2 on 0, where he is always Tony Parker and I'm Tim "Pumpkin."  He always keeps score.  He plays by himself.  He makes up drills that he does over and over.  After he pretends to get fouled, he lets you know the status of the personal fouls and team fouls before taking his foul shots.  He cannot pronounce personal.   No matter where he is in the house he senses if his little brother has the ball in his hands and comes sprinting to take it away.  His brother is usually casted as Tiago Splitter.  He is very passive aggressive.  Somewhere between all this basketball he does other things.  Those things are not important.  In the evenings we watch the NBA playoffs.  He only roots for the team that is winning.  But he won't cheer against the Thunder or Spurs.  I regale him with stories of Laker greatness.  I search for classic Laker victories on NBA TV.  I can only hope I'm doing enough.  At bed time we read a children's story about Chris Paul's childhood.  I make up a sequel about how an evil troll named David Stern kidnapped Chris Paul from the Lakers.  We curse David Stern and Blake Griffin until sleep over takes him.  We all hope tomorrow will be a KD day...

Ok, I might have gotten a little carried away with that rant.  But, like 90% of that is true.  He's super into basketball right now and it's really fun.  I don't know how to break the news to him that he's probably going to be 5'9'' and that could, possibly, hinder his long term success.  Instead, we signed him up for tennis lessons this summer. 

Another really funny thing is hearing Cam re-tell the religious stories he learns at school.  Christianity by Cam is hilarious.  My favorite was the time he told us about how "Jesus was in the doghouse until his friend Smokey J told him to come out."  After some digging, it's possible he was recounting the story of Lazarus.  But, I like to believe that Smokey J is the gangster nickname Jesus had for James.  My second favorite is when I was talking to Cam about somebody named Jose.  Cam proceeded to tell me tabout how all the people in the bible "threw there jackets in the mud and shouted Jose, Jose."  I'll let you figure that one out.

Onto the younger child.  He is adorable right now.  He is a smiling, waiving, peek-a-boo playing little ball of perfection.  And that dude loves to push himself to the limits of his physical abilities.  He wants to climb everything he can get to.  One of his favorite past-times is to climb on top of (insert noun here), stand up, and look at you with delight.  If you turn your back on him for 10 seconds he will be standing on top of his riding fire truck like he's about to go surfing.  There may or may not be multiple home videos of him accomplishing such feats and.... then falling really hard on the floor.  I guess that is what movie editing software is for.  Based on his combination of attractiveness and affinity for stage-like platforms, I'm predicting he is going to be runway model.  Then again I could also see major head trauma in his future.  Thankfully those two paths aren't mutually exclusive.

You miss both 0% and 100% of the shots you don't take,
Father

Revelations

I've learned exactly 10 things so far in 2014.  I'm going to share them with you now.

10: Cam's obsession with Ninja Warrior is not good for his face.
9: You can consistently complete Insanity workout videos before getting a Blue Cross Blue Shield agent on the line.
8: Fire fighters need a raise. It feels like you could earn an honest living in that profession, but apparently it requires panhandling to supplement your income.  Seriously, put your boots back on and get out of the street.  At least when you were fundraising with your lascivious calendars you weren't causing a traffic delay.  The next begging fire man I see in the road is getting his bare foot ran over.  You have been warned. 
7. Mexican food + lots of spinning = sitting in your own vomit for the car ride home.  It was a tough lesson for her to learn, but I told Mindy not to spin so much.
6. Boy's trips to Del Rio are good times.  If I close my eyes I can still hear Cam chanting "no ladies, no babies."  And don't bother asking Cam about our trip because he's been trained that what happens in Del Rio stays in Del Rio.  But I'll give y'all a little sneak peak.  Let's just say that 3 out of the following 4 things are true.  Cam attempted to pee off a bridge and ended up with urine all over his clothes.  We picked up a hitchhiker somewhere near San Antonio that we later learned was an escaped convict.  There was at least one night where Cam could be found binge eating chocolate cake in motel room at 11 pm.  My father won a limbo contest at my cousin's wedding by out-dueling a midget.  Let me just reiterate that a good time was had by all.
5. Croup is the devil's work.  And I'm pretty sure Chris Harrison probably has something to do with spreading this destructive force.
4. Preschoolers are master negotiators.  And they always seem to be working toward attaining the most immediate reward.  At first I was trying to offer Cam some guidance around this tactic.  I was trying to help him put off some immediate gratification in the pursuit more significant pleasure down the road.  But the more I became acquainted with his strategy, the more I respected it.  He has it right.  You just have to be relentless in your negotiation for short term gain.  You see, there's no harm in agreeing to give up something in the future to obtain immediate reward.  Because we both know that when we get to this so called future loss, that exact same strategy is still going to apply.  I think he plans on just pushing back his loss until he moves out of the house.  In some ways it's kind of like our national debt situation.  Preschoolers are very advanced.
3. Steven Tyler decided to go as the Geico Caveman to the Grammys.
2. Cam is incapable of talking about religion without adopting the accent of a southern woman.  I guess sending him to a church-based preschool in Texas has measurable affects.  And "Lawd" is it cute. 
1. Carter being mobile is a game changer.

Truth has been spoken here today.  Go with "Gawd".

Father

'Twas the night before Christmas Eve...

Vacation has begun.  I'm officially off of work for the next 2 weeks.  As part of my quest to live life like I'm still in high school, I went and scheduled myself a nice little Christmas vacation.  But now I am one day in to said vacation and I'm realizing that the reality of these two weeks might be a tad different than the ones I remember so fondly from my youth.  In my excitement to get off of work, I failed to consider that this parenting gig wasn't going to take a hiatus as well.  Now... I'm thinking I may just plan a few "working days" at the office to prepare for the new year.  We'll see how that flies.  I don't know how Mindy does it so much, because being in this house is like being constantly cornered by two assailants of need.  It's a perpetual dance of placation and/or disappointment.  It makes me tired.

But I love me some Cam.  That little dude is fun to hang out with.  Lately we've been really into playing the Madden football App on the Ipad.  He picked our team to be the Bears because they are, and I quote Cam here, "Bad Boys."  Then he somehow changed the uniforms to the Bengals so we are now the Chicago Bengals.  "We" rely very heavily on our tight ends and slot receivers.  At first I thought he was going to seriously injure Martellus Bennett by exclusively throwing him the ball.  But now he has developed a nice little rapport with Alshon Jeffery on the slant.  "We" rarely win.  It took us about 20 tries to beat the Washington Redskins (including a last second pick six that lost us the game because "we" were trying to run up the score).  That one stung.  But we finally defeated Washington this morning and advanced on to playing the Indianapolis Colts.  Cameron refers to our new foe as the "Whiteskins."  Sometimes I feel very discriminated against in my house.  It's hard to be a minority.

Cameron and I also like to participate in trivia contests. This is a sneak peak at a typical game.  I ask Cam if he can name 7 trains from Thomas.  He rattles them off in one breath.  He asks me an abstract question with multiple answers.  No matter what I guess, I am responded to by a loud buzzer noise and a harsh "wrong."  It's like doing that psychic game with Bill Murray at the beginning of Ghost Busters.  But, it's fun to hear the clever questions and answers he comes up.  Like just the other day, he asked me "who is Momma's favorite guy?" I smiled at him smugly and answered, "me of course."  I expected the buzzer noise.  I was even prepared for him to claim that spot.  But I most certainly was not ready for what was to come next.  Apparently, my wife's "favorite guy" is the man who was at our house earlier that day fixing the air conditioner.  This was rather alarming news.  Coming from my family of origin, I am quite aware of the allure that profession can have on the ladies.  Graves' Heating and Air is basically just a male prostitution network.  If my father or uncle tell you any differently, they are lying.  And when you're working in refrigeration you are always working with "hot" women.  Ok, I'll stop.  But needless to say an extensive interrogation took place to uncover what transpired between Mindy and the repairman.  The investigation is still pending.

I had more I wanted to write today, but Mindy is waiting for me so we can do Insanity before the kids wake up from nap.  Nap time is not to be squandered in pithy rantings.  Fun fact, did you know that Mindy knows the first name of all the back-up fitness participants in the Insanity DVD.  I'm beginning to think that this stay at home gig might be a little lonely.  And with  that realization, I am definitely intensifying my efforts on the repairman case.  We shall see if she goes Freon the charges or not...  Ok, I'm truly stopping.  That was just sad.

Merry Christmas,
Father

PC or Not PC?

I recently came to the realization that Mike may be more politically correct than I thought.  This may shock you, given what he has written on this very blog in the past.  However, consider the following examples:

• When Mike's dad first met Carter as a two-month-old, Carter was a cute, chubby baby.  Mike's dad affectionately called him a sumo wrestler.  Mike told his dad to stop being a racist and just call Carter fat.
• Carter is at the age where he'll do anything to reach a desired object, including throwing himself out of my arms or face planting to the ground, so I like to say he's my little kamikaze baby.  Mike immediately responds by saying this is racist, because if Carter were not half-Asian, we would instead call him reckless, adventurous, and strong.

But then again, this is coming from the same guy who suggested that our children dress up as Kim Jong Il and Kim Jong Un (the infamous former and current North Korean Presidents) for Halloween and has also encouraged Cameron to pursue short track speed skating as his sport of choice.  So you be the judge.

Gobble this up

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone.  Our Thanksgiving was rather mellow.  We ordered our "feast" from Marie Callenders, and I would definitely recommend the experience to others.  It's just much easier.  And what I mean by the last statement, is that it seems much easier, because I really have no idea what it would be like to cook on Thanksgiving.  I, like all great American men, like to spend this day giving thanks for football and misogyny.  But I did feel much less repressed shame doing nothing  - knowing that Mindy was doing less.  So that was nice.  And of course I did get up off my ass to swoop in for my 10 minutes of glory dissecting an animal.  And this turkey carving experience was fantastic.  Turns out, we had actually only purchased a turkey breast.  I had no idea this was the case when we brought the food home, because the thing easily weighed five pounds.  Which really got me thinking that it was a shame that I never got to see this turkey intact.  She sounds spectacular.  But carving up a turkey breast with no bones really simplifies the procedure.  I decided to whittle the meet into replicas of the Nina, Pinta, and Santa Maria to everybody's delight.  Ok, that didn't happen.  But I wanted it to.

Mindy's parents brought over a photo album commemorating the life of Mindy. It was really fun to see all the pictures of lil' Mindy.  Do you remember a few posts ago when I mentioned that Cameron and Carter looked almost identical as babies?  Well, I think we figured out where they get that from.  It was uncanny how much baby Mindy looked like Carter.  Whatever baby gene Mindy's family has passed down is really, really strong.  It doesn't know the bounds of gender.  It tramples over whatever weak little Caucasian genes you throw in there.  It just dominates.  Mindy and I have been meaning to introduce a game where we put up pictures of Cam and Carter at around the same age and challenge y'all to pick out the correct Graves' son.  But I think we might need to add one more baby option to this game-show.  Now the only thing left to do is to come up with a catchy title for this segment.  "Name that Asian" feels it possibly may be offensive.  "I know that baby, maybe...?"  has a decent ring to it, but I don't want to settle.  Feel free to post some ideas in the comment section.

During the Thanksgiving meal, Mindy had a fantastic idea.  She asked the table if they would like to share "their biggest regret of the year" along with what they are most thankful for.  Because Mindy didn't have to do much cooking this year, I think she subconsciously decided to create a "recipe" for how to create holiday drama.  Bringing together relatives into forced intimacy and then springing on them deep questions about things they regret seems like a pretty awesome concoction.  It all worked out fine in this situation, because nobody was dumb enough to answer the question with any honesty.  But I recommend you try it at home. 

Speaking of honest feedback, I think it's about time for Cam to experience some more criticism in his life.  He has just gotten way too much praise.  Yesterday morning when we were discussing our plans to hang Christmas lights, he asked me "why am I such a good helper?"  I said, "Because you're good at figuring stuff out and are fun to hang out with."  He said, "And I'm always cute."  Too which I laughed and said, "Yes, and very humble."  But he didn't get my sarcasm, he just noticed my amusement, nodded with a smirk of self-appreciation and added, "Yes, and I'm also funny."  Couple interactions like this with the fact that earlier this week he tried to charge me admission to come cuddle with him at bed time, and I'm thinking we definitely need to knock this little dude down a few pegs.  Time to replace nightly affirmation hour with a little "Daddy is playing for real" time.  That and a verbal sprinkling of reality that cuts to his little core should do the trick.  Don't worry, I learned all of this in graduate school.  I'm a professional.

That's all for today.  Here are some things to look forward to in future blogs.  Carter is in his "strangers aren't sure what gender I am" phase, which has supplied some pretty good moments. Cameron is about to play on his first soccer "team" and it is going to be coached by a good friend.  If this situation doesn't provide bloggable moments and opportunities to terrorize my friend, then I don't know what will.  And Reilly continues to descend deeper into his postpartum depression.  But if he can muster enough energy, he has hinted that he would like to make a return to the blog.  We shall see.

Happy Holidays,
Father

Domesticate Ya

Mindy made some pumpkin flavored pop tarts for a Fall get-together this past week.  They were quite tasty.  Cam is not so sure. Consider this exchange: Cam bites into a pop tart and a look of sheer disgust spreads across his face.  Mindy says "Cam, you don't have to eat that if you don't like it."  Cam munches on, but appears as though he is consuming something closer to raw sewage than a pastry.  Cam looks up at Mindy and sheepishly says, "It's good.  I just like to take small bites."  Verrrrrrryyyyyy tactful son.  Well played.

Cam likes to roll around everywhere he can on his scooter.   Not too long ago Mindy and I were sitting on the couch after putting Cam down for bed.  We hear his bedroom door open and Cam rolls out on his scooter to get some water.  He then rolled back to the bedroom without a word.  His scooting can be quite unnerving.   It often has the feel of Gob on his Segway in Arrested Development.

Speaking of being on the couch after Cam was put to bed, Mindy and I recently got busted engaging in some inappropriate behavior.  Let's just say it involved the two of us, some sucking, and... Cam's Halloween candy.  Mindy and I were sent scurrying like teenagers when the bedroom door unexpectedly opens.  It was an eye opening moment to realize how much I fear my son.  And this was probably the greatest act of treachery that we could have committed.  Cam treasured his Halloween candy with Smeagol-like intensity.  When he got home from trick-or-treating he dumped all of it out in the middle of the living room.  For days after, he would come up to Mindy and I and ask us if we would like to join him in "looking at his candy."  And then he would just sit and admire it.  He was very proud of himself for "earning" all those sweets and often opined about how "hard" he "worked" on Halloween.  I think we might have sparked a less furious reaction if we had taken his lifelong "blankie" and fashioned it into a diaper for Carter.  Let's just say it was a night of great violence in the Graves house.  I emerged relatively unscathed, mostly because I was able to utilize Mindy as a human shield.

Cameron is in the heart of the "why" faze.  Truly, he's been in this phase for over a year.  But the intensity of it has really ramped up of late.  What his questioning has really made me realize is how little I know about anything.  By the end of each of these exchanges we've reached a point where it becomes difficult to muster a coherent answer.  I've asked repeatedly for phone a friend privileges, but that just leads to him asking me why, and me having to explain the reasons behind my idiocy until I need help again.  It's not a self-esteem boosting exchange.  So, I've taken to completely making things up.  Why is it cold today?  The sun is tired.  Why?  Because he stayed up really late playing Minion Rush and used up his solar energy to keep the I-Pad charged?  Why?  Because the sun often has insomnia.  Why?  Because of discomfort from his irritable bowel. And on we go.  It donned on me lately the true reason why people often become more religious when they have children.  Claiming the work of a higher power is really the only way to stand up to this line of questioning and save face.  But I see that as a cop out.  I'm going to make shit up instead.  It's way more fun.

See you next week,
Father

This is what's up

The following sentiments are truth.  Do not interpret as figurative or sarcastic.  Read, accept, move on with your day.

• My freezer looks like an episode of "Hoarders: The Breast Milk Edition"
• When you are the son of a psychologist you quickly learn many ways to express anger toward your parents.  Consider the following interaction between Cam and I on Halloween after we were briefly separated in a crowded cat tunnel (don't ask). Cam: "I'm mad at you because I couldn't see you." Me: "Sorry about that." Cam: "I'm really angry." Me: "I hear you." Approximately 30 second pause.  Cam: "I'm serious." Approximately 30 second pause Cam: "I'm still cross." And with that it was clear that we needed to cut down his Thomas consumption and stifle his emotional expression.  So I responded in a way I knew he could grasp. Me: "Stop being cheeky or I'll take you back to that tunnel and wall you in like Henry.  Now be a useful little engine and give me a Snickers."  You might not have any idea what some of that meant, but preschoolers all over the world would be shuttering in fear.
• Speaking of Halloween, there was much debate about what Cam wanted to be.  Mindy asked him daily for a 2 month period, so as it neared we had quite a few options.  At one point, he wanted the family to go in a construction theme.  He said that he wanted to be an excavator.  He told Carter he was going to be a bulldozer.  He told Mindy she was going to be a steamroller.  And he told me I was going to be a pumpkin.  My son is already a master of social aggression.  A few days before Halloween, Cam had it narrowed down to a couple of things.  He either wanted to be a Chick-Filet worker or a princess.  Just to clarify, he either wanted to go as a cross-dresser or a homophobic fast food worker.  I wanted him to go as both to make a political statement.
• Mindy seems to be enjoying her new gig.  She has infiltrated the ranks of multiple Mom's groups.  There seems to be a lot of walking, eating, gossiping, and organizing.  I'm not sure what the kids do - but fun appears to be had by all.
• Carter smiles at just about anything.  He can sit up by himself,  but he's not quite mobile yet.  Those of us in the parents biz call this stage "perfection."
•  Cameron is in a very competitive stage.  I hear you grow out of this stage in your 40s.  I, like all intelligent parents before me, use his internal drive as a means of manipulating him into doing what I want.  "I'll race you to the car," "first one to the bedroom wins," "I bet you can't sit quietly while I concentrate on my fantasy football lineup"...  these are just a few of the motivational tactics I like to employ.  But I'll tell you, I haven't experienced this much losing in my life since Hope basketball.
• Cam, Mindy, and I are super into these "endless running" aps.  We started with Ninja Quest and moved onto Minion Rush.  We help Cam learn the skill of waiting his "turn" by making him watch us dodge obstacles and collect tokens.  Again, a good time is had by all.  And Cam is remarkably skilled at these games.  Forget sports and reading, I'm thinking professional gamer is his calling.  Now is the time to focus our collective efforts.
• Cam just returned from an outing with a Mom's group.  He interrupted my blogging to announce that while he was there he enjoyed "watching a little girl pee."  And with that, I think I should wrap this up and do a little parenting.  This is what happens when you allow trains, ninjas, and minions to raise your children.

Good job listening!
Papa

Number 2

And this is the way of second borns.  Baby 1 got a blog specifically created for it 7 months before it even existed.   Live streaming updates from the birth itself.  Editorials on his facial expressions, feeding schedule, and bowel movements.  Over 250 posts chronicling the minutia of his development.  Baby 2?  I think I can pretty much sum up what happened in a couple of paragraphs.

We went to a hospital a couple of weeks ago where Mindy doped herself up, chatted with a nurse about reality television, and sneezed out a 8 pound, 7 ounce alien.  Upon arrival there was a moment of confusion when the baby was African American.  But it turned out that the young one had quite a bit of facial bruising from Mindy spiking her pelvic bone into his face during descent.  We named the entity Carter Edward Graves and moved to the next hospital room.  Hospital employees frequently commented on how strong he was.  Then he had his penis maimed.

Apparently Mindy and I only make one baby prototype.  I mean, he looks a little different from Cameron did, but it's pretty much just an updated version of one model.  We also only produce children with early Jaundice, so Carter got to spend a few days under the tanning booth.  About two days after birth, I'm happy to announce, the milk arrived.  There was no nipple confusion (which I like to imagine as a baby vision where he is surrounded by a maze of nipples into which he keeps colliding with no escape).  He seems to have mastered eating, judging by how fat he is getting.  He also is relatively chill, other than the frequent zombie straining noises he makes while pushing gas and shit from his body. 

Personally, I rarely interact with the new one.  Sometimes he's crying while Mindy is in another room and I'll pick him up and carry him back to his owner.  But that's about it.  Me and Cam get to spend even more time together now and have formally made a power alliance. Nobody is sure where Reilly ever is.  The battle for household domination is clearly afoot.

In all seriousness though, Carter is a healthy little boy.  Cam is adjusting fairly well to being a big brother.  He's been really sweet and gentle with Carter so far.  And I've invented a symbolic newborn advent calendar - where basically I eat a lot of candy, drink a lot of beer, and count the days until a hint of normal life returns.  Note to potential father's out there: if someone tries to sell you on father hood by minimizing the trauma of the newborn period you should punch them in the face.  These are dark days that you push through.  That is all. 

Thanks to everyone for their well wishes and support.  Special shot out to Mindy's Dad and my Mom for all of there help while we were still in the hospital and settling in at home.  You made our lives soooo much easier and I am very thankful! 

And that about sums it up.  I'll be back around Carter's high school graduation to fill y'all in on how he turned out.  I have high hopes for this one.  I hear he's really strong!

Father

Planes, Trains, and Naan

Me and Tinker Bell have a lot in common.  We both work in bolstering the psyches of children, we often soar through the air, and we are extremely jealous of mermaids and Tiger Lilly.  But most of all, we are both so insecure that we are only driven to action by the praise and affirmation of others.  For instance, I have basically had two hairstyles in my life.  Other than a brief mullet phase that was trending in the fifth grade, my early years were spent rocking the little-boy comb to the side look.  Then one fateful day my Sophomore year of high school a female classmate ($10 bucks if a high school buddy can guess who this is on one try...) off-handedly mentioned "hey Mike, maybe you should try spiking your hair?  That would look good on you."  Boom.  18 years later and now I'm a middle aged man with spiked hair trying too hard to be relatable with adolescents.  I'm still waiting for somebody to tell me that a different hair style looks good on me so I can do something about this.  However, Mindy and I did receive some praise and requests for our blog this weekend.  So here I am.  And if you were one of those people complimenting the blog this weekend, just know that you have revived it just like the audience revives Tinker Bell in the musical.  I am imagining every one of you sitting around me right now, starting with a slow clap, and then building to a thunderous ovation of love and approval.  I must bring the blog back to the people!!!!!!

Because it has been so long since we've blogged, I thought I'd go with the rapid fire cliff notes version of the summer.  This is what's been up:

• Cam talks in phrases now.  This includes gems such as: "I'm scratching my itchies," "I don't want to go to school," "Momma go the kitchen!" and "I farted a poop."
• I committed my first child-related sex offense by parading around a public pool full of children for about 45 minutes before realizing I had a large rip down the back of my board shorts. 
• We traveled to Yellowtone with my parents and sister's family.  Mindy and I explored the majesty of God's paint brush.  Cameron explored the majesty that is YouTube train videos.  Which brings me to my next point...
• Cameron has become obsessed with the railroad.  Close your eyes and imagine the island of Sodor.  Ok, you just saw our kitchen.  Every night at prayer time I diligently ask God to grant Cameron the finger dexterity to attach those Thomas train cars together by himself.  One day!
• I have been blessed to hear Mindy and Cam debate at least twice a week about whether or not a certain red train at our house is Victor or a special edition red Thomas.  The discussion generally goes like this.  "It's Victor."  "It's not Victor."  "Yeah, it's Victor."  "No, it's not Victor.  It's Thomas."  "Yeah, it's Victor!"...  Let's just say this issue remains unsettled. 
• We had an awesome time attending a Sikh / Hindu wedding in Sacramento.  I learned two truths about myself.  I really like Naan and Indian dance music.  Also, just a heads up to whoever "weddings" with me next:  I will have a wad of one dollar bills in my hand at some point, I will lick my pointer finger in a really suave manner, and I will proceed to make it rain on the dance floor.  I've never actually seen that before and I didn't realize how awesome it makes you look. 
• Some things don't change.  Such as, Cameron still thinks that all Asian women are Mindy.  A very awkward exchange occurred at the park this weekend as Cameron chased a woman around the playground calling her Mama, grabbing her legs, and bossing her around.  Even as I stood right next to him and explained that the woman he was groping was not his mother - he paused, looked her dead in the face, then commanded "Mama go down slide."  It was uncomfortable for me.  I felt like I might as well just tell this woman "I find you very attractive."
• While visiting old-town Sacramento this weekend Mindy made the following statement, "Old Sac is so cute."  I think this bodes well for our future together. 
• I also continue to be befuddled and disturbed by children's literature.  Check out this gem from a potty training book.  Feel free to sing along to the tune of "Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star" if you want.  Because you can.
Tinkle, tinkle on the floor
That's what Bob did till age four
And he pooped on the den chair
On the couch, or anywhere
He'd poop on your welcome mat
On your swing, or on your cat
 
Seriously?  WTF?  One question - is there nothing a little less visually alarming that rhymes with mat.  One professional opinion- somebody needs to get Bob some intervention pretty quickly. 

And... that's our summer in a nut shell :)  Seriously though, Cam is at a really fun age.  He's becoming more and more fun to play with / torment. And it's amazing to hear and see the new stuff he learns every day.
 
Until the "Fall in a nut-shell" blog,
Father

Embarrassing Moment #1

I've read in magazines and heard from friends about funny stories when their kids said something embarrassing in public.  This weekend, I experienced my first such moment with Cameron when we went to the mall.  We had to go to Sunglass Hut because Cameron, doing his best Incredible Hulk impersonation, bent the arms back on Mike's sunglasses, rendering them completely unwearable.  So while Mike was in the store getting his glasses adjusted, Cameron and I wandered the mall.  And when I say wandered, I really mean that we took 20+ round trips on the escalator (not an exaggeration).  Riding up and down the escalator really gave us the opportunity to do a lot of people watching.  On two separate occasions, we saw a group of young black teenagers.  In both instances, some of the kids were wearing wifebeaters and basketball shorts.  Cameron saw them, pointed, and said, "Basketball."  I sort of cringed, briefly wondered how offensive the remark was, and then told him, "Yes, that boy is wearing basketball shorts."  But I was fervently hoping that the kids hadn't heard and weren't offended.  So embarrassing moment #1.

For some reason, this encounter reminds me of the Curb Your Enthusiasm episode where Jeff thinks his German shepherd is racist because he only barks at black people.  I certainly hope Cameron doesn't go around saying, "Basketball" to every single black person he sees!

If you have any embarrassing stories about something your kid has said in public, please share in the Comments section for all to enjoy. :)

A Not So Subtle Threat

When I climbed into bed the other night, I received a most unwelcome surprise: there, lying innocently underneath the covers and right below my pillow, was a cheese spreader. I retraced the day's events and instantly recalled Cameron pulling out the utensil drawer, reaching on his tip toes, stretching out his grimy little hand, and triumphantly pulling out the cheese spreader. In my mind's eye, I fast forward half an hour, and I see Cameron gleefully wielding the cheese spreader and thrusting it in my direction, all the while chanting, "My knife! My knife!" It's almost like he wanted me to see it so I would know who left it for me later. And with that, I realize that my precious first-born son has just made an open threat on my life. His message is clear, "Should I choose to, I could end you with this blunt edge object."

So now I'm left to answer the question, "Why?" What have I done that warranted such drastic actions on his part? Was it the fact that I was completely engrossed in re-reading The Hunger Games in preparation for the movie and basically ignored him while he watched Curious George? Was he still angry that I wouldn't let him bring his beloved blankie into the bath? Or maybe it was because I mistakenly put him down on his changing table in the direction he doesn't prefer, so he had to frantically insist "Wrong way! Wrong way! Wrong way!" until I noticed the error of my ways. Whatever it was, I now realize I've underestimated my son.

Consider myself warned.