The Dog of Peace (HOL 85)

House of Laughter 85

Last Wednesday night at two fifty a.m., I woke up to, “click click click click….pause…..click click…..pause….click…..click click click click click click click click click click click click click click click..pause…click click…pause.” I stumble out of bed, and politely ask our dog Max to “Pick a damn place to lie down already!”

In the interest of keeping my marriage together I decided to go get the dog’s nails trimmed the next day. For those of you who don’t have a dog, you have to be very careful trimming their nails or else you could cut the “quick” which causes blood to exit from the dog’s foot all over your floor.

For a couple of bucks, the folks at Petsmart will perform this potentially unsavory task for you. Isaac, Max, and I get in the pick up truck Thursday after work and head to the shopping center. I put Max on a leash, and as I am unloading Isaac from his car seat, I hear vicious barking. I look in the next row of parked cars and I see a sedan with a man, a small boy and a pit-bull (a.k.a “The Dogs of Peace”) as passengers. The pit bull has seen Max and is barking wildly at us and frantically jumping around the car.

Isaac Max and I go into Pet Smart and head to the grooming area. There is a small 4 x 12 foot waiting area separated from the grooming area by a low wall. They take Max to the first table about three feet away where Isaac and I can watch. The clipping is proceeding just fine when in walks the man, his son, and the wildly aggressive “Dog of Peace”, now straining against a leash, and barking loudly incessantly at my son, Max, myself, the cash register, the groomers, anything and anyone is a target of this dog’s wrath. Isaac grabs my hand and wedges himself between me and the wall. We are pretty much pinned in this small waiting area while the owner fills out paper work. The “dog of peace” is between us and the door, otherwise we would have bolted.

One of the groomers tries to take the pit bull back to the grooming area. The woman clipping Max’s nails puts her back to the dog to block it’s view, but as soon as the little gate is open, the dog lunges, barking at Max, and then get out of it’s collar!

My mind immediately thought “I have a Leatherman tool in my pocket. If the dog is going to attack, I do not have time to get it out and unfolded. If I do, what tool would I pick? Would I use the file? After the dog eats my Leatherman and my hand, what next? Clearly the Leatherman tool…..not the way to go. If he tries to bite, I will put Isaac up on the counter and grab the fire extinguisher from the wall and use that to defend myself.”

As my mind was vividly re-imagining the end of Jaws with a pit bull in place of a Great White Shark the dog’s owner managed to get the collar back on him. Isaac was definitely freaked out now, and I was a little myself.

After two more attempts, they managed to guide “Bitey” back to the back room. Isaac and I grabbed Max and slipped out. Only later from across the store did I see a store manager firmly but politely explains something to the dog owner who left with what I guess is a still dirty dog.

We still aren’t a hundred percent sure what Isaac is going to be for Halloween, but right now, we are thinking “Albert the Alligator” (mmmmm Buckeyes..) He has at different times asked to be a pirate with a sword, an ant eater, a cowboy with a hat, a lamp, a tiger, a spider and a witch. Nancy shot down my idea of dressing him as Pee Wee Herman.

Once again, Isaac is obsessed with fishing. Nancy fixed Isaac’s toy fishing pole after the fateful night when one of our music minister’s kids successfully cast into a ceiling fan operating at top speed. Nancy managed to untangle about 300 feet of fishing line. Now both Isaac’s bed and our living room couch are his boats. If you go on a fishing trip with him, you have to stay completely on the bed or couch, or else you get wet. I am really impressed with how well he takes turns with his pole. He casts once, and then hands the pole to me and says, “Your turn”. He also has a rule that you have to eat whatever you catch.

Finally, tonight as we were saying our prayers, I asked Isaac if there was anyone special he would like to pray for. Only a sweet innocent child would have replied, “Julius Peppers”. (I am not making that up.)

Strength and Honor

Matt

Hey! Teacher! Leave Those Kids Alone! (HOL 84)

House of Laughter 84

I had a parent/teacher conference yesterday with Isaac’s teacher Ms Peggy. They try to meet with parents at least twice a year to talk about their child’s development, point out strengths and weakness, and address any issues that the parents have.

There weren’t any real surprises. It turns out that Isaac has exceptional communications skills, but is still a little awkward athletically and socially. Actually, that accurately describes me and most of my family as well.

Peggy told me that when Isaac tells her a story, she can understand exactly what he is talking about. She confessed that it was a guessing game about half of the time with many of the other children.

When she listed Isaac’s weaknesses, it was a fun to pick which neurotic habits he got from Nancy, and which were mine.

“He dislikes chaos” that would be Nancy.

“He has trouble holding his pencil correctly”: that would be me.

There was a note in his chart “Isaac refuses to use finger paint. Will only paint with a toothbrush”: hmmmm…neat freak? Score 2 Nancy 1 Matt

“Is standoffish in the morning, and takes a while to warm up to new people”: Guilty.

Over all he is doing well, and I’m certainly not freaking out about things he needs to work on.

She did tell me something that made me smile. There is corner of the playground that is wooded. The kids can still be seen all the way to the back fence, but there are enough trees to make it feel like a forest. (This is one of the reasons we picked this daycare as opposed to the cedar chip and no shade version of playgrounds at most other daycares.) His teacher told me that this was Isaac’s favorite part of the playground.

Isaac did something the other night that he had never done before. He has a small three page plastic book in his bath tub. He offered to read it to me. Now the only printed words in the book are, “Cat, Cow, and Dog,”, but he told me a short story about each one of them complete with “Once upon a time”, and “The End”. (Once upon a time there was cat who lived in that house by himself and he was lonely. The end.)

Before I end this dispatch, I would like to remind you that it was three years ago on October 20 that Lance Cpl Andrew Russoli was killed in Iraq. Please remember the families of fallen solders and pray for peace.

Strength and Honor

Big Matt

She got a pair of eyes, just like two apple pies (HOL 83)

House of Laughter 83

The acceptable level of coarse language for children varies wildly from school to school. I heard a story recently about a child who came home and tearfully confessed to his mother that he got in trouble for using the “ ‘S’ word, ‘F’ word, and ‘C’ word.” The mother went to speak with the teacher about it, and only during the conference several days later did she learn that the ”S”word was “Stupid”, the “F” word was “Fat”, and the teacher didn’t even remember what the “C” word was.

Contrast this to the blog entry on my sister Alison’s page about some of the delightful things her children from public housing in Gainesville used say (I love the movie "Player's Club". They got sex, drugs and chicken head.)

If Isaac is being disagreeable about bath time, I try to convince him that he does in fact stink. I tell him , “You stink like an elephant’s butt.” Evidently he let slip the dreaded “B” word at school because the next night when I told him he smelled like an “Elephant’s butt”, he corrected me, “No Dad, I smell like an elephant’s trunk.”

Normally I would be slightly miffed at how prudish someone is, but I have to admit, that the phrase, “You smell like an elephant’s trunk” is funny, absurd, and a pretty good pun, so I’ve started saying it as well.

Isaac loves to sing. His repertoire of songs include, “Happy Birthday”, “Take me Out to the Ball Game”, “Jimmy Crack Corn”, “Ring of Fire”, and the chorus of a song by She and Him. I’m trying to teach him an old song my dad used to sing before he visits next month. My father probably sang it a hundred thousand times during my childhood, “My gal’s a corker, she’s a New Yorker, I buy her everything to keep her in style.” The next line is a rhyme about one of the “Corker’s” body parts. Nancy is so pleased.

Last weekend we took a walk in the woods near the Science Center. A boy scout troop had just rebuilt a bridge over a small creek. The creek was low enough that we could stand on a rocky sand bar. Isaac, and I climbed down the creek bank and threw rocks in the water. Nancy stood patiently on the trail, waiting to move on. Isaac then started looking for big sticks to break by hitting them against trees.

I sat on the bridge and watched. I asked Nancy to sit with me. She realized that if you are going to preach the “Last child in the Woods” sermons, you have to be able to stop and throw rocks and hit trees with sticks. She finally decided to join us throwing rocks into the water. It was a perfect day. The leaves had started to change, there was a coolness and slight breeze to the air.

I couldn’t help but contrast hanging out in the woods with going to the zoo later that day. At the zoo, you must stay on a path, everything is neatly labeled, you are guaranteed to see at least a few animals, anything you can climb on or touch has padding underneath or an alcohol dispenser right next to it. Also, the zoo is swimming with people who are in a hurry to move quickly from exhibit to exhibit to “see” everything.

I hope Isaac grows up to love our science center as much as I loved the Florida State Museum as a kid, but after spending unstructured time in the woods, and then going to the zoo back to back, I hope he develops a true love for the “real” outdoors as well.

Strength and Honor

Big Matt

Zoo visit 2008 (HOL 81)

House of Laughter

Nancy has an uncanny ability to tune Isaac out. I usually can not. If I am the middle of writing or checking e-mail, and he wants to sit on my lap or asks to read a book or wants to throw the football it’s hard for me to say, “No”. Every time I try to say “No”, I hear the opening chords of “Cat’s in the Cradle” start up on the Ipod in my mind, and I end up stopping what I am doing pre-maturely to go and play.

I’m not a complete pushover. If he asks to watch TV. or get a snack, I will make him wait, but nothing I do at home is more important than building a racetrack for Matchbox cars.

Isaac and I have an understanding that when I get home, I kiss him and Nancy. I spend a few minutes seeing how everyone is doing, then he and I go and play “Alligator”. “Alligator” is a highly ritualized game we play that to the untrained eye looks like wrestling on my bed. Ali and I used to play a version called “Giant Squab” with my father.

Isaac will only play if the bed is made, and the window is open. I can hop on the bed and call him up, but he will say, “No. We have to fix the bed first!”. He and I make the bed. He will then explain that the window has to be opened before he will play. We open the window, and only then can “Alligator” commence. The game lasts until dinner is ready.

Isaac has obsessed over two library books which unfortunately have both had to go back after two renewals. “Ivan the Terrier” was read almost every night for three weeks, and I will admit it was a lot of fun to read. A small Jack Russell terrier, Ivan, interupts the stories about and chases off the three pigs, bears, billy goats gruff, and eats the little gingerbread man. His other favorite was a strange wordless book called “Hogwash”. Through pictures it shows a large group of small pigs playing in mud and paint and then getting placed into a large “Rube Goldberg” type machine to get cleaned up. The book’s abstractness and Isaac’s fascination with it frustrated Nancy to no end.

Last night, I bought a bottle of off brand Febreeze at Food Lion. You may not know this, but off brand Febreeze works as a terrific “Monster/ Bear/ Robot “ repellent. We have had a tremendous problem recently with Monsters, Bears, and Robots, coming in and sitting on the corner of Isaac’s bed (usually around 4 in the morning.) I brought home the spray and told Isaac, “Three sprays of this will keep monsters and bears out of your room all night. They can’t stand the smell (vaguely coconut and banana.)”

He asked with deep concern, “What about Robots?”

I perused the small print on the back of the bottle. “Yep keeps away robots as well.”

The pictures are from a recent trip that Isaac and I took to the zoo. This is what I learned at the zoo.

1) Instead of waiting for Isaac to whine about wanting to be carried, ask him if you could please carry him. You are going to end up carrying him anyway, might as well be after the word “Please” from you then from a whine from him.

2) The Sponge Bob 3-D moving theater ride is more terrifying then the Haunted Mansion and Pirates of the Caribbean put together if it is too loud and we are sitting right next to a speaker.

3) If you take Isaac to the North Carolina Zoo, use the “North America” entrance because the first thing Isaac wants to see is the alligators which are a mile and a half away from the “Africa” entrance.

4) If the only animal visible near the fence is the ostrich, stick around and watch the ostrich. He is pretty cool.

5) You can either have a thick small town Southern accent or say really stupid things, but please don’t do both at the same time. It’s like nails on a blackboard to me.

6) If you are hungry enough, overpriced “Corn dog nuggets” are like manna from heaven.

7) The 75 cent light up dinosaur necklace is a better souvenir than the $40 stuffed tiger.

8) Isaac is right about the alligators…they are pretty sweet.

9) Don’t expect a three year old to keep you awake with conversation on the ride home. (He will be asleep before you leave zoo property.)

10) Isaac gets to climb on a lot more things when Nancy doesn’t come with us.

One last thing. If Isaac wakes up before me, he now comes into my room, and says, “Get up! The blue sky is awake!” Try to hear that when you wake up and not smile.

Strength and Honor

Big Matt

P.S. I added a link to my sister Alison's blog. You only need to read a little to see that a dark sense of humor is genetic. Look on the top right of this page.