johnvano.com

I Know What She Did

I know what she did. Maybe she didn't intend to leave me in the dark, but that's where I was--nestled in my glorious bliss. She calls me a packrat. But are memories only to be imagined? Or can we hold them in our hands and smell their faded glory?

It may seem like nothing, but it was my boy's wallet. More like a coin purse, but do you think I'd tell him that? He inherited it from his brother, the mesh-sacked Zebra with the zipper down the back, and he carried it with his pennies and nickels--all of them quarters to him.

He has a new wallet now, one that folds into velcro, but this was his first and it embodies him. Tonight it toppled out of my trunk, an unsold offering at the community consignment sale. She had tried to pawn our memory for a dollar. My tears for this memory are worth more than that.

The Twins are Six: Happy B-day Halle & Emma!

We love you so much!

Talk About Being Thankful...

 

They rock my world

  

Not pictured: My wife, Paula, and God. They've been pretty amazing, too. Plus I've become more aware of this fact in 2008, thank God.

Pumpkin Carv'n

The kids and I carved pumpkins on Tuesday night. They had each picked out their vegetable a few days earlier and then used a piece of paper to draw their face. I carved according to their pattern. Halle and Emma, interestingly enough, chose to share a pumpkin and co-draw.

 

Cooper picked a pie pumpkin so we were unable to carve it. Paula drew a face for him. I'm pretty happy with how Marshall's turned out... doesn't my carving look just like his drawing?

 

Madison's spooked pumpkin was a great idea! Here's our dramatic scene: The twins' Hunchback of Notre Dame-ish carving is on the far right.

Can You Catch the Bunny?

Paula was at a women's retreat for 27 hours this weekend, which left me and the kids alone to get into all kinds of fun. We went to a church pizza party Friday night, and on Saturday morning we cleaned the house, went for breakfast at Dunk'n Donuts, enjoyed a two-hour hike, did the playground, and had a very late lunch at Wendy's. 

At the beginning of our hike, we found a bunny that must have been domesticated and dumped at the park. Madison tried to catch it.

Here they slowly sneak forward... 

Madison just touched it, but it hopped away...

Cub Scout Marshall

No boy I've ever known has been as excited to be a Cub Scout as young Marshall. I'm not entirely sure where he got his information about scouting--yes, he's homeschooled, but he has abundant social networks. When I was a kid, I barely knew a scout... but Marshall is jazzed about it. I'm sure he's also looking forward to the time he gets to guarantee with his dad--and I like that, too.

We went to our first meeting on Monday and I got to meet some of the other dads. There were about 20 kids there, about half in uniform already. Though Marshall reports that he "wants to do everything with Boy Scouts," we're not going to be able to keep up with the full schedule of activities--camping and biking trips galore--but we'll do some and make all the regular meetings for sure (every Monday plus one Thursday a month). I should also note that Madison is beginning her second year in Girl Scouting while Paula is getting ready to start a Daisy Troup for Halle and Emma--busy times.

One guy I met was excited that his second son loves the outdoors and wanted to be a Cub Scout--his other boy stays inside with his computer. This fellah just moved to the area and likes to hunt deer, but is looking for an opportunity to hunt the wild pigs of Georgia. Who knew we had wild pigs?

Madison's Ears Have Been Pierced

Our little girl did volitional, irreparable damage to her ears last night. She--and my wonderful wife--have been on my case for YEARS to perform this primitive and destructive procedure; and finally, they have worn me down. I wanted her to wait until she was 18, then 16, then 14, but people, she's only 9! ...Yes, I hear you laughing... but I'm just a little concerned about permanent irreversible elective surgery. 

It turns out these ritualistic piercings are conducted right out in the open--in store windows--by technicians who, though the name tag says "assistant manager," look all of 16! What kind of insurance and assurance do I, as a loving father, have that the holes bored in my daughter's ears will not ultimately infect her or cause her lobes to droop?

Nonetheless, she was tickled and took the barbaric hole-punching without a whimper, refusing to hold her father's hand, her little brother's hand, or even an available teddy bear! I was so proud of her--and look how beautiful she is!

Marshall Runs Home, 2006

This was Marshall's first season at T-ball. I put little pop-up annotations on YouTube that don't show up here. Check them out at:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0Wq-demD9XQ&feature=email

Congratulations Pavarotti...

...You've reclaimed the coveted title of "Most Annoying Pet."

There's been some stiff competition for you in our house over the past few years, what with that dog that liked to drag his doggie parts along the floor and nip at the hand of our youngest son, Cooper. Oh, and remember the cat who refused to use a litter box? Yeah, he had you out of the running for awhile, didn't he? And we mustn't forget the one-legged gerbil who nervously chewed his own cartilage... those were some competitors, weren't they?

But now that these family friends have all gone on to new homes and Habitrails in the sky, you've got your old plaque back. So keep mewing at my door when I'm tucked into bed, demanding that I watch you eat, and aggressively tapping at the window to come inside... that's your thing, and nobody does it better.

Here's to you, Pavarotti. With all my love.

I Don't Get It

Why is it that from the age of 10 months to 4 years, all a kid wants to do is flush the toilet? Then from the age of 5, you can't get them to flush for all the ice cream in Kroger. Even our 9-year-old is in the no-flush posse.

 

I have no interest in seeing that side of my family now that they're out of diapers. When asked, many cite a fear of suction as the reason for their abstention from flushing. They must think we're traveling through space...