Here's some old ones.
Wednesday, November 30, 2005
Baby Jake update (11/30 column)
I can tell I’m starting to get more recognized in the community. It’s a great feeling to go places and see friendly faces of people I’ve worked with. But I think my notoriety is miniscule compared to that of my little boy, Jacob. Everywhere I go, I get the same question, “How’s that baby doing?” Since so many people have been asking, I will give you all an update.
Little Jake’s going to be four months old this Friday. It hardly seems possible because I can still feel the pain of having him like it was yesterday. They say that memory fades. I read that about stretch marks, too, but they don’t seem to be going anywhere either.
It’s quite an experience watching a baby discover the world. Most parents would say this, but Jacob seems to be quite a unique little guy. From the moment he came into the world, he has been an observer. I remember the first night in the hospital when we were both laying in our beds, I looked over and he was wide awake, watching TV. I know babies can’t see very far, so the bright light in the darkened room must have caught his gaze. He still likes TV, especially sports.
I’m a believer that children should be taken on outings as frequently as possible to learn how to behave in public. Since I’ve been dragging him along with me almost everywhere I go, Jake’s become quite the traveler. Just a few weekends ago, while Dad was hunting, we road-tripped to visit some of my college friends in the Twin Cities. There we visited the Mall of America, a place Jake would be more excited about if he was a girl, I’m sure. We looked at the Christmas lights, shopped for presents, and even made his own teddy bear.
All through the mall, people kept smiling and commenting, “He’s such a good baby.” I guess being a first-time mother, I didn’t realize I could be a lot worse off. Jacob rarely cries unless he’s hungry, overly tired or bored. He likes to be held up so he can see what’s going on.
Physically, Jacob is also excelling. He was nearly a nine-pounder at birth and he has kept up the pace. At two months, he was bigger than 95 percent of babies his age. With the four month visit coming up next week, I’m curious to see where he’s at now. Jacob’s unusually strong and learning to reach for things, which is why I had about six inches taken off my long hair a month back. He’s been able to support his body weight on his legs since birth. If he wasn’t so top heavy, he might be crawling soon.
His most recent accomplishment has been learning to sit up. He still needs a little support, but he can hold himself up pretty well. Sitting up opens a lot of new activities to him, and now he can look around whenever he wants. He also started using the daycare’s exersaucer. His teacher told me he’s the youngest she’s had that was able to use it. Sitting up also opens another new door: solid food. We’ll wait to see what the doctor says, but I suspect he’ll start a little rice cereal by Christmas. So I told Jake he needs to ask Santa for more bibs. Big ones. The kind that covers the entire body and looks like a towel with a hole cut out for his head.
And Mom’s going to ask for more laundry soap.
Little Jake’s going to be four months old this Friday. It hardly seems possible because I can still feel the pain of having him like it was yesterday. They say that memory fades. I read that about stretch marks, too, but they don’t seem to be going anywhere either.
It’s quite an experience watching a baby discover the world. Most parents would say this, but Jacob seems to be quite a unique little guy. From the moment he came into the world, he has been an observer. I remember the first night in the hospital when we were both laying in our beds, I looked over and he was wide awake, watching TV. I know babies can’t see very far, so the bright light in the darkened room must have caught his gaze. He still likes TV, especially sports.
I’m a believer that children should be taken on outings as frequently as possible to learn how to behave in public. Since I’ve been dragging him along with me almost everywhere I go, Jake’s become quite the traveler. Just a few weekends ago, while Dad was hunting, we road-tripped to visit some of my college friends in the Twin Cities. There we visited the Mall of America, a place Jake would be more excited about if he was a girl, I’m sure. We looked at the Christmas lights, shopped for presents, and even made his own teddy bear.
All through the mall, people kept smiling and commenting, “He’s such a good baby.” I guess being a first-time mother, I didn’t realize I could be a lot worse off. Jacob rarely cries unless he’s hungry, overly tired or bored. He likes to be held up so he can see what’s going on.
Physically, Jacob is also excelling. He was nearly a nine-pounder at birth and he has kept up the pace. At two months, he was bigger than 95 percent of babies his age. With the four month visit coming up next week, I’m curious to see where he’s at now. Jacob’s unusually strong and learning to reach for things, which is why I had about six inches taken off my long hair a month back. He’s been able to support his body weight on his legs since birth. If he wasn’t so top heavy, he might be crawling soon.
His most recent accomplishment has been learning to sit up. He still needs a little support, but he can hold himself up pretty well. Sitting up opens a lot of new activities to him, and now he can look around whenever he wants. He also started using the daycare’s exersaucer. His teacher told me he’s the youngest she’s had that was able to use it. Sitting up also opens another new door: solid food. We’ll wait to see what the doctor says, but I suspect he’ll start a little rice cereal by Christmas. So I told Jake he needs to ask Santa for more bibs. Big ones. The kind that covers the entire body and looks like a towel with a hole cut out for his head.
And Mom’s going to ask for more laundry soap.
Friday, November 25, 2005
Me and the Packers: a love-hate relationship (11/23 column)
When I was a little kid, my uncle thought it was funny to put in the movie Jaws while he was babysitting. Since I was a cowardly little four-year-old, I hid behind the chair. But I couldn’t resist peeking around the corner to see what was going on, even as that shark swallowed one of the guys whole.
That’s what it’s like to be a Packer fan this year. As ugly as it gets, I can’t turn away from the screen.
Now I’m no sports junkie columnist, but I do enjoy (or used to, anyway) watching the Packers. So consider this from an average fan’s point of view. This year has been particularly painful for Packer fans. Now 2-8, they have virtually no chance of making the playoffs. A true Packer fan still thinks they can make it to the Super Bowl. Even if by some miracle they made it in (as in the rest of the NFC Central teams lose all their games and the Packers win the rest), do they really deserve to make it in this year?
Statistically, the Packers don’t look too bad. They’ve actually outscored their opponents overall. On paper, they look like a winning team. On the field is a different story. If it’s close, the Packers lose. This team just cannot find a way to win.
No one is more frustrated right now than Brett Favre. The future hall-of-famer made a big statement without saying anything by skipping the post-game press conference Monday night. If you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all, I guess. After everything this guy has been through, he deserves a winning season to cap off his career. Too bad his teammates can’t deliver.
A few brave souls have suggested benching Brett Favre and starting a raw Aaron Rodgers in his place. That would the dumbest move ever. Why replace a veteran, three-time MVP quarterback with a rookie kid? If Sherman tried that, he would need bodyguards on the sidelines. I don’t think Favre is to blame. He threw for 227 yards and two touchdowns last night. There isn’t another quarterback in the league who could do the same with the troubled receiving corps he has.
I have a proposal, although from what I’ve gathered so far, few people agree with me.
Fire Mike Sherman. No one likes to see heads roll, but when it comes down to it, the head coach is supposed to take responsibility. The Packers could just as easily be 8-2, and Mike Sherman would be a hero. At 2-8, he should get the same credit: a king who let a dynasty collapse. Ray Rhodes got canned after one 8-8 season in 1999. I think the difference is the players like Sherman. Rumor has it Favre said he will retire if Sherman is not head coach next year. But face it, Favre’s not coming back no matter what. He wishes he wouldn’t have come back this year. And if the Packers are already losing the cornerstone of the team, why not start with a new foundation as well? A new coach for a new era.
Yes, I’m done playing Tuesday morning quarterback. Now it’s time to get ready to watch next week’s train wreck known as the Green Bay Packers as they take on the chaotic Philadelphia Eagles. Is the season over yet?
That’s what it’s like to be a Packer fan this year. As ugly as it gets, I can’t turn away from the screen.
Now I’m no sports junkie columnist, but I do enjoy (or used to, anyway) watching the Packers. So consider this from an average fan’s point of view. This year has been particularly painful for Packer fans. Now 2-8, they have virtually no chance of making the playoffs. A true Packer fan still thinks they can make it to the Super Bowl. Even if by some miracle they made it in (as in the rest of the NFC Central teams lose all their games and the Packers win the rest), do they really deserve to make it in this year?
Statistically, the Packers don’t look too bad. They’ve actually outscored their opponents overall. On paper, they look like a winning team. On the field is a different story. If it’s close, the Packers lose. This team just cannot find a way to win.
No one is more frustrated right now than Brett Favre. The future hall-of-famer made a big statement without saying anything by skipping the post-game press conference Monday night. If you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all, I guess. After everything this guy has been through, he deserves a winning season to cap off his career. Too bad his teammates can’t deliver.
A few brave souls have suggested benching Brett Favre and starting a raw Aaron Rodgers in his place. That would the dumbest move ever. Why replace a veteran, three-time MVP quarterback with a rookie kid? If Sherman tried that, he would need bodyguards on the sidelines. I don’t think Favre is to blame. He threw for 227 yards and two touchdowns last night. There isn’t another quarterback in the league who could do the same with the troubled receiving corps he has.
I have a proposal, although from what I’ve gathered so far, few people agree with me.
Fire Mike Sherman. No one likes to see heads roll, but when it comes down to it, the head coach is supposed to take responsibility. The Packers could just as easily be 8-2, and Mike Sherman would be a hero. At 2-8, he should get the same credit: a king who let a dynasty collapse. Ray Rhodes got canned after one 8-8 season in 1999. I think the difference is the players like Sherman. Rumor has it Favre said he will retire if Sherman is not head coach next year. But face it, Favre’s not coming back no matter what. He wishes he wouldn’t have come back this year. And if the Packers are already losing the cornerstone of the team, why not start with a new foundation as well? A new coach for a new era.
Yes, I’m done playing Tuesday morning quarterback. Now it’s time to get ready to watch next week’s train wreck known as the Green Bay Packers as they take on the chaotic Philadelphia Eagles. Is the season over yet?
Monday, November 21, 2005
Wake me up when winter ends (11/16 column)
As I’m sitting here trying to figure out what to write about this week, the radio keeps reminding me I should hurry up and get home before the snow. “Winter storm advisory,” it keeps saying. Someone should inform the National Weather Service it’s not winter yet so we can’t have a winter weather advisory. Don’t they know these things?
There’s not much I enjoy about winter, to be honest. Sure, I get a little thrill from the first snow, but that fades rather quickly.
There are a lot of winter activities I just don’t understand. Chiefly because I just don’t like to get cold. Take ice fishing for example. I do enjoy fishing. I even bought a fishing license last spring, although I haven’t found time to use it yet. It is a thrill to get a fish on the line, even if it is smaller than some minnows. But when I fish, I prefer to do it when it’s above 70 degrees outside and while wearing shorts. Not hunched over a tiny hole on a frozen lake while the snow swirls around me.
I went ice fishing for the first time last January. Although I knew the ice was plenty thick, I had white knuckles as we drove across the lake to the shack. The wood stove inside was a welcome addition, but I still felt a little claustrophobic inside there. The only fish I saw all day was a tiny little perch someone reeled in. Then it was a white knuckle ride all the way back to shore. I suppose it didn’t help much that I was afflicted with morning sickness, but I didn’t get much thrill from the experience. So if I’m invited to go this winter, I think I’ll stay in my nice, warm house.
Like most Wisconsinites, I hate everything about winter driving. From the spotty snow storms to the salt that corrodes my car, I could definitely do without the fluffy white stuff and slippery ice. I’m lucky enough to have an attached garage at home, so I’ll get out of scraping stubborn ice crusted on my windshield most of the season. But there’s no place to hide at work, so I’ll be sweeping and chipping along with everyone else at the end of the day.
I do like the holidays, but winter complicates my travel plans. From a short shopping trip to a weekend expedition to my parents’ house, you can never plan perfectly when Mother Nature is involved. It never fails; no matter where I go in the winter, be it five miles or 500 miles away, I get stuck in a snow storm. Last Christmas, Nate and I had a scary experience traveling three hours between holiday gatherings. It turned into a five hour trip since my car was fish-tailing and making a mad dash for the ditch anytime we relaxed for a moment. We did make it back unscathed, but we learned a valuable holiday travel lesson. This winter, we’re leaving the car at home and taking the truck. And now, I leave you all to make my way through this miniature blizzard. Wish me luck.
There’s not much I enjoy about winter, to be honest. Sure, I get a little thrill from the first snow, but that fades rather quickly.
There are a lot of winter activities I just don’t understand. Chiefly because I just don’t like to get cold. Take ice fishing for example. I do enjoy fishing. I even bought a fishing license last spring, although I haven’t found time to use it yet. It is a thrill to get a fish on the line, even if it is smaller than some minnows. But when I fish, I prefer to do it when it’s above 70 degrees outside and while wearing shorts. Not hunched over a tiny hole on a frozen lake while the snow swirls around me.
I went ice fishing for the first time last January. Although I knew the ice was plenty thick, I had white knuckles as we drove across the lake to the shack. The wood stove inside was a welcome addition, but I still felt a little claustrophobic inside there. The only fish I saw all day was a tiny little perch someone reeled in. Then it was a white knuckle ride all the way back to shore. I suppose it didn’t help much that I was afflicted with morning sickness, but I didn’t get much thrill from the experience. So if I’m invited to go this winter, I think I’ll stay in my nice, warm house.
Like most Wisconsinites, I hate everything about winter driving. From the spotty snow storms to the salt that corrodes my car, I could definitely do without the fluffy white stuff and slippery ice. I’m lucky enough to have an attached garage at home, so I’ll get out of scraping stubborn ice crusted on my windshield most of the season. But there’s no place to hide at work, so I’ll be sweeping and chipping along with everyone else at the end of the day.
I do like the holidays, but winter complicates my travel plans. From a short shopping trip to a weekend expedition to my parents’ house, you can never plan perfectly when Mother Nature is involved. It never fails; no matter where I go in the winter, be it five miles or 500 miles away, I get stuck in a snow storm. Last Christmas, Nate and I had a scary experience traveling three hours between holiday gatherings. It turned into a five hour trip since my car was fish-tailing and making a mad dash for the ditch anytime we relaxed for a moment. We did make it back unscathed, but we learned a valuable holiday travel lesson. This winter, we’re leaving the car at home and taking the truck. And now, I leave you all to make my way through this miniature blizzard. Wish me luck.
Thursday, November 10, 2005
Run-in with Bambi (11/9 column)
There are two things that happen this time of year that I really don’t care much for: early darkness and philandering deer. Separately, they are a pain. Together, they can be a disaster.
It’s no wonder so many people suffer from seasonal depression. I was awfully depressed myself when I had to get up before daylight just to come to work at the normal time. However, I think leaving work when it’s dark is even worse. I feel like I missed the entire day. I’ll be happy when Dec. 21 rolls around. Besides being in the holiday season, it’s the mark of days starting to get longer again. What a great reason to celebrate.
Also this time of year is when all the bucks start thinking less than pure thoughts and start chasing the poor does. It’s a great time for hunting, not so good for driving. It’s no wonder car-deer crashes spike this time of year. I’ve had my fair share of encounters with Bambi in my seven years of driving. And I have the insurance rate to prove it.
When I was a senior in high school, my little sister went through her second unsuccessful season of deer hunting. So I had to rub it in a little when I got a doe during muzzle loader season. Unfortunately, my ammo was my little grey 1984 hatchback. It was about 5:30 p.m., and I was coming back from a few errands in town. Statistically, you are more likely to get in an accident close to home, and that was true for me as well. A doe darted out in front of me about a quarter mile from home. After leaving a significant indent in the hood of my car and doing a rather athletic cartwheel, I was sure she was finished. But when I walked over to the ditch, there she was staring at me with big brown eyes and a broken leg.
The deputy had to finish her off, but I still got my first deer, and I didn’t even have a hunting license. Unfortunately, the insurance company said my car was finished too. It doesn’t take much when the car’s about worthless anyway.
Deer #2 was already dead when I got to her. I didn’t have many options when I came upon it right in the middle of my lane at night on I-94, especially with a car in the lane next to me. Since I could hear a loud scraping noise immediately after impact, I pulled over to check the damage. Except for one broken plastic piece underneath the front, everything was fine. To this day, the purpose of that hunk of plastic behind my bumper is still a mystery to me.
My most recent run-in with a four-legged creature happened last Tuesday when I was on my way to pick up Jacob after finishing up the paper for the night. A buck ambushed me on STH 97 north of Athens. In an attempt at revenge, I hit him with my car. This time, I just spun him a little and he barely broke stride. I was sure he at least took out a headlight. I stopped and couldn’t any damage, just a little hair stuck to the bumper.
I thought I was pretty lucky. But then the next morning, I walked into the garage to go to work. It was then that I gagged from the stink of buck urine and realized that deer still got the best of me. He peed on my car.
It’s no wonder so many people suffer from seasonal depression. I was awfully depressed myself when I had to get up before daylight just to come to work at the normal time. However, I think leaving work when it’s dark is even worse. I feel like I missed the entire day. I’ll be happy when Dec. 21 rolls around. Besides being in the holiday season, it’s the mark of days starting to get longer again. What a great reason to celebrate.
Also this time of year is when all the bucks start thinking less than pure thoughts and start chasing the poor does. It’s a great time for hunting, not so good for driving. It’s no wonder car-deer crashes spike this time of year. I’ve had my fair share of encounters with Bambi in my seven years of driving. And I have the insurance rate to prove it.
When I was a senior in high school, my little sister went through her second unsuccessful season of deer hunting. So I had to rub it in a little when I got a doe during muzzle loader season. Unfortunately, my ammo was my little grey 1984 hatchback. It was about 5:30 p.m., and I was coming back from a few errands in town. Statistically, you are more likely to get in an accident close to home, and that was true for me as well. A doe darted out in front of me about a quarter mile from home. After leaving a significant indent in the hood of my car and doing a rather athletic cartwheel, I was sure she was finished. But when I walked over to the ditch, there she was staring at me with big brown eyes and a broken leg.
The deputy had to finish her off, but I still got my first deer, and I didn’t even have a hunting license. Unfortunately, the insurance company said my car was finished too. It doesn’t take much when the car’s about worthless anyway.
Deer #2 was already dead when I got to her. I didn’t have many options when I came upon it right in the middle of my lane at night on I-94, especially with a car in the lane next to me. Since I could hear a loud scraping noise immediately after impact, I pulled over to check the damage. Except for one broken plastic piece underneath the front, everything was fine. To this day, the purpose of that hunk of plastic behind my bumper is still a mystery to me.
My most recent run-in with a four-legged creature happened last Tuesday when I was on my way to pick up Jacob after finishing up the paper for the night. A buck ambushed me on STH 97 north of Athens. In an attempt at revenge, I hit him with my car. This time, I just spun him a little and he barely broke stride. I was sure he at least took out a headlight. I stopped and couldn’t any damage, just a little hair stuck to the bumper.
I thought I was pretty lucky. But then the next morning, I walked into the garage to go to work. It was then that I gagged from the stink of buck urine and realized that deer still got the best of me. He peed on my car.
Friday, November 04, 2005
Jake's first trick-o-treat (11/2 column)
How do you celebrate Halloween with a three month old? We came up with several different ways this past week. At first, I thought we’d just sort of skip the holiday. It wasn’t really worth buying him a costume when he won’t even be able to really trick-or-treat. The same went for carving pumpkins, handing out candy and decorating the house. Scrooge is a someone anti-Christmas, so I guess I’d have to label myself an old bat for wanting to ignore Halloween.
I did manage to find the Halloween spirit (pardon the pun) as it drew closer. First came the Presbyterian Pumpkin Fest. I couldn’t resist buying a pumpkin to take home. But when I couldn’t decide on just one, I took three home instead. Then a received a cute jack-o-lantern tea light holder as a gift. That’s when my Halloween reserve began to melt. Next thing I knew, I bought a few decorations myself.
Nate’s mom brought home a cute “Baby’s First Halloween” outfit from a weekend shopping expedition. I thought, OK, Jacob can wear that to daycare on Halloween. But then, a relative offered the cutest baby cow costume and I absolutely could not turn it down. It turned out to be a blessing because Jacob’s daycare took a little field trip to area senior homes the Friday before Halloween. Although costumes were optional, I was happy to dress Jacob up, especially as my favorite animal. Everyone at daycare said he was the cutest one that day, but I’m sure they told a lot of parent’s that.
This past weekend, Nate and I carved three pumpkins. The first one I took on by myself because I knew Nate would never have the patience for the intricate design I’d chosen. It turned out really cool, but I won’t attempt another on of those until maybe next year. I did what I thought was a simple design for Jake’s pumpkin, a cute, happy face. When I was finished, I looked over at Nate’s. As it turned out, he’s not a very talented pumpkin carver. But I was well behaved and didn’t laugh in front of him.
On Halloween, I was excited to dress Jacob in his cow costume and visit a few relatives’ houses. But when I woke him up that morning, he was all stuffed up and had a gurgling couch. Great, I thought, no Halloween. He was cranky when I picked him up from daycare, so I called Nate and cancelled trick-or-treating. But ironically, as soon as I called, he perked up, drank a bottle and was my happy little baby once again. Armed with my little bull calf, we visited his great-grandparents, great-aunt, cousin and, of course, Grandma Bubbles. That kid made quite a haul for being only three months old. I came home with an armload of diapers, cereal, a picture book, a mobile and a card.
As much as I was anti-Halloween a month ago, I’m already excited for next year. Kids make holidays fun again.
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