Make dad a martini

#1Son's #1Birthday

2010-10-14T07:25:00.000-07:00

First things first: let's skip over the Miami-FSU score and go straight to the fact that TheBestMan and I witnessed, not one but, two fights from there very earliest inception, including this conversation:

"I am going to use this Porta Potty before you."
"No, you're not."
"Yes. I am."
"Don't mess with me. You don't know who you're messing with."
"Yes. I do."
etc. etc. Hilarity ensues.

The most notable part of that exchange was that, as the seven person melee broke out, I scampered into said Porta Potty only to be immediately haunted by the thought that the fight would run into it and -gak- tip it over. Relieved and otherwise undamaged, we made our way through the parking lot which was filled with the sort of traditional fall college afternoon revelry the entire family could enjoy.

As Jacory would say, "Oh brother."

Then I snapped this picture at kickoff...

...representing the last time Miami would be in the game. Oh brother, indeed.
If nothing else (and there was NOTHING else) TheBestMan and I had a good time at the expense of the other Miami fans and one more stadium down. Check.

I'm am thrilled to report Sunday was dramatically better. Despite four hours of sleep between the time I got home from the game and the time #1Son declared morning ready to begin, it was a banner day.

Sister came over with her husband and saw #1Son for the first time in months. One can imagine the difference. After some pleasantries, we got down to business: presents.

Mmmmmmmmmmmm...wrapping paper...and then there was some food that was fire, which seems kind of odd if you think about it...

...and then, the entertainment:

All in all, it was a fantastic party - lots of family and friends we don't get to see enough of, great weather and who doesn't like to see a kid eat refined sugar for the first time?

Sadly, the first year is over. Every time we look at TheDude, TheWife and I think how much he's a boy now - not a baby. He claps and high fives and feeds himself (sort of). What a big jump from 12 months ago when, if we put a cap on his head and it was too low - he was screwed. The cap was there to stay. Now, we have opinions to deal with. And walking (bordering on racing). And curiosity that might not have killed the cat but will annoy the hell out of the dogs.

One year down.
Two thousand five hundred fifty seven (roughly) diapers. Really.
One thousand five hundred thirty three bottles. Really.
Three hundred baths (what?).
We are still alive. The house is not on fire. Unqualified success. Bring on year two.

To Quote SecondCousinChad

2010-10-11T18:58:00.001-07:00

"It's a smothering kind of love."

Sadly, No Pancakes

2010-10-08T08:21:00.000-07:00

I've been meaning to use this picture from Ohio if, for no other reason, than to demonstrate that I cannot eat two pancakes the size of my head. Apropos of nothing...

We're off to Miami for the weekend, with TheBoy in tow. Our first airline trip where he won't be sleeping in a carrier the whole time. And he has a snotty nose. Apparently, we're going to be THOSE people. If only we could ride in first class and really ruin someone's day. Maybe next time.

Weekend agenda:

Survive flight/rental car/Miami rush hour triathlon
Dinner + martini - not necessarily in that order
Sleep in and let #1Gramma handle #1Son for the morning
Miami Beach with TheBestMan
Undergo emergency coronary bypass while watching Miami v. FSU
Recover
#1Son's First Birthday Party complete with, I'm told, duckies
Recover
Sleep
Recover
Return to reality

Look for a picture filled post shortly. I'm also compiling a (mental) list of games we play with TheBoy. These include 'Diaper Pail Finger Guillotine." If you have some you play with your kids, please leave a post (*cue the crickets*) - I'd love to hear what I'm missing.

If My Doctor Friends Were Dead...

2010-10-04T12:04:00.001-07:00

...they would all be rolling over in their respective graves. Peter Orszag, he of the White House Office of Management and Budget fame and believer that data should make medical people behave differently (Poppycock!) penned this op-ed in the NYTimes recently.

Having been on both sides of the fence as a recovering physician and, now, a business dude - I can't agree more.

ER Patient to me: "What do you mean the hospital is essentially closed on the weekend and I can't get a (hip replacement/diagnostic catheterization/IV infusion) treatment. That's ridiculous!"
Me: "I know! But I'm going home now. Cause it's late and I have the sleepies."

People get into accidents on Saturdays and deliver babies on Sunday mornings (#1Wife did) but, for some reason, the lab has 1/2 the number of people working. Asinine. In any case, this will be a excellent trend to watch - 10 (15?) years before it really takes hold with kicking and screaming the whole way. But it's the logical end.

Okay, enough serious stuff. Jacory and I hit Clemson, SC in, what can only be described as, a thoroughly successful weekend. First stop - take a picture of the rock. Believe it or not, this is a fully non-doctored actual picture I took with a phone. I ought to sell this to the Clemson propaganda people. In any case, it sure was purty Frydi naht (I can say that 'cause I live in Atlanta):

Town's best feature? $12.50 for two shots of Beam and 2 longnecks.

Brilliant. Like college again. But different. In that I can afford $12.50. When in Clemson...

After a quick portrait:

Whoops. You get the idea. Jacory, though very loosely affiliated to Clemson, wore the home shirt to keep harassment at a minimum (that's what I think anyway). The home team subtly meandered onto the field:

And promptly got whooped. Thank Jebus. I was one-for-four on these trips and am happy to be up to a .400 batting average. Two hours after the last lost fumble by Clemson, I was home giving TheBoy a bath and thinking how I was going to wrap Peter Orszag, Jim Beam and balloons into a single post. Done, done and done!

Wow. A Lot Happens In Four Weeks.

2010-10-01T13:54:00.000-07:00

Six maybe? Who knows. It's been awhile. MartiniDad's been busy. That's all I'm sayin'.

What happens in four (six) weeks?
#1Son got his hair did:

That has to be a form of child abuse. Whatever. More to come. TheBestMan looked cool while having a margarita:

It takes a certain kind of manly man to drink with an oversized purple straw in a well lit room.
This was later followed by me visiting with the good people of central Ohio:

...who, despite beating the crap out of the Hurricanes, were actually entertaining and almost unfailingly polite. I swear I don't sit in front of the mirror with a curling iron trying to get a little Superman 'S' into the front of my hair. It just happens that way sometimes.

Ohio Stadium?

Check.

Death Valley. Look out. Here I come.

#1Wife and I went out to dinner. I had a martini:

I went back to the Triangle and had dinner with some old friends. They asked, "aren't you going to have a martini?" I wasn't. But then I did:

#1Son learned how to mow the lawn:

And, as if that weren't enough, third time's the charm:

I promise to contemplate trying to potentially do this more often. Pictures of Death Valley to follow. I'll be sans-TheBestMan, but have a strong stand in with Jacory (not the quarterback, the made up name of a friend) stepping in. Did you know, by the way, that if you are a quarterback for a football team, you get a Wikipedia page? I want a Wikipedia page...sounds like a project...

Indisputable Proof

2010-09-03T07:56:00.000-07:00

On bumping into two things today on the internet, I am convinced that:

1. Mankind is doomed. How do I know this? Men are wearing makeup. And telling people about it. Note, I didn't say anything about womankind. Just mankind.

Ladies and gentlemen, exhibit A:

“At one point I just started buying stuff for him because I don’t want him stealing mine,” Ms. Bain said. Now she orders products online for him at Menaji.com, which bills itself as a “masculine” and “undetectable” line of cosmetics and skin-care products. His favorites are an eye gel and stick concealer that target dark circles, and an anti-shine powder that comes (shhh!) in a compact.

Exhibit B:
"I secrete excellence and I heart myself," said Snooki's dad.
credit: The NY Times.

2. Dogs will takeover where we left off.

Not my dogs, who will be a cashier (#1Dog) and generally on a government entitlement program of some sort (#2Dog). But this dog - this dog is going places:

Mariachis! Hit it!

schadenfreude

2010-08-30T07:22:00.000-07:00

Schadenfreude. It's my new favorite word. Why? Who doesn't love German words with a root in the word "damage" and "joy." I know I do. I'm certainly not above it, either. I thought about it today after running through this site - which I am not going to type out - and giggling like a little kid wearing a Spider Man t-shirt. How do know what that's like?

There.

Speaking of there (but not schadenfredue), #1Wife is There, not Here. Her whirlwind tour of PlacesThatAreSeveralTimeZonesAway continues. It looks like she's having a really tough time at work with pictures like this one:

And this one:

Wow. I think that tower is stalking her.

Luckily, we had reinforcements this weekend (seems like it ought to be spelled reenforcements. whatever) in the form of the InLaws. A little elbow grease...

...and a little instruction...

...later, we were all well fed. Even The Boy.

I Give #1Wife Crab...Cakes...

2010-08-24T06:11:00.001-07:00

Okay. That was in poor taste. #1Wife had a birthday yesterday and, as I write this, is spending the day-after-birthday in Paris. Working. I know. She will be back in a short 8 days.

Wha?

Eight? Do you know how many that is? That's like a week. I say if we're all still alive when she gets back, I'm going to be looking for a medal.

But first, crab cakes. They start out looking a bit messy:

But then you add some Gruet, the finest sparkling wine that New Mexico can produce:

If you're not a Gruet drinker, get on that immediately if not sooner. Throw in a Caprese and a Caprese model:

Cook up the crab cakes and insert an Ugg. I meant to take pictures of the cooking process but then, I didn't:

And wrap up with cupcakes. Like crab cakes, 'cept different.

Some people like cupcakes more than others.

Happy birthday, #1Wife. I would have included pictures of the gifts, but they didn't fit well at the calf, so they are on their way back to Zappos - best. service. ever. Thank you Zappos!

The other development of the weekend is that #1Son can open cabinets. At will. All of them. Sometimes with one hand - sometimes with two. Here he is taking inventory of our tupperware.

They make an intimidating pair. I think PretendCousin (in orange) is going to grow up to be an evil mastermind.

Finally...the Secret of Two Diapers

2010-08-21T16:12:00.000-07:00

About four months ago, #1Wife was out of town when I was faced with a dilemma. The Boy would theoretically sleep for 12 hours - from 7P to 7A - but would wake up in the middle of the night because, well, he peed his way through everything he was wearing. It was...gross.

So what do you do? Bigger diaper, right? Tried that.
Bigger diaper, different kind with special nighttime thingee on it, right? No dice.

Finally, like an apple hitting me in the head (but instead of an apple it was a tube of butt paste being thrown at me at 4 in the morning), I had an epiphany. Two diapers. One on top of the other. How does it work?

Start with one clean ducky baby.

Use one standard size four Pampers diaper as the primary liner. We like these because they are fairly thin - they are our go-to day-to-day diaper. Butt paste tubes, by the way, are great toys in addition to being fantastic projectiles.

Wrap with one Huggies size four overnight. Bigger. Bulkier. Real staying power, in my opinion.

Presto.

Hand to Mamma. Drink bottle. Go to bed. Note the passing resemblance to Vito Corleone - gesture wise, at least.

Sweaty Dude

2010-08-20T13:55:00.000-07:00

This is what happens when you take children out in 99 degree heat.

They love that stuff. Here's what happens afterwards.

Hot. Sweaty. Sleep. Baby.

And, finally, #1Son attacks the paparazzi.

I know I promised the secret of two diapers...next time...next time...

#1Son Goes Airborne

2010-08-15T07:38:00.000-07:00

It's been awhile and I want to save some fodder for a few more posts this week - consider this my getting back on the horse. Leave comments and I'll post more...really! Maybe! Rest assured, #1Wife and I have been keeping up our part of the cocktail culture bargain - she even went for a cosmopolitan one day last week.

I feel compelled to reiterate here - cocktail culture (and making dad a martini) is not about cocktails culture or making dad 4 martinis. It's a chance to relax, share a drink (one) and visit in person. I mention that because someone asked me the other day, 'how many martinis do you drink a day?' What is this? 1963? Sadly, if I made pitchers of martinis a' la Truman Capote, I'd be walking around in a sling. So the answer is 0.3/day, averaged out over a week.

Okay. Now back to our regularly scheduled program.

Amusing photo of the day - #1Son and Pretend Cousin were both randomly wearing their prison outfits on the same day.

We almost caught them in the police stance but they were too wiggly.

And, as promised, #1Son goes airborne:

Check back in a couple of days for the Secret of Two Diapers (Pampers and Huggies lovers, take note). It is modestly less revolting than it sounds.

Also, if anyone has 2 tickets to the Miami OSU game in Columbus...I am a buyer...leave a comment

#1 Trip Report from #1Wife

2010-08-01T15:48:00.001-07:00

OK, so California wasn't too bad. Some of the highlights were:

I had an AMAZING sushi dinner with my brother and his fiance in Little Tokyo. There were pieces of nigiri that the sushi chef would not allow you to dip in soy sauce - we are talking fresh fish! Of course, it's always nice to visit with Crazy Uncle D, as MartiniDad calls him. He's in the BIZ so I love to hear his stories - if you think you work with crazy people, you should speak with someone who works in Hollywood. Unfortunately, I forgot my camera so I couldn't commemorate the evening.

The weather was cool, which felt so refreshing compared to the inferno in Atlanta right now - they call it Hotlanta for a reason!

The dinner/booze cruise with work people was lovely. The scenery was just gorgeous and I got to hear about the time one of my colleagues hitchhiked through California in the 60's (he told the story after a few martinis)

Oh yeah, and I had a great meeting and it was a good chance to connect with my global colleagues (in case you were wondering, the guy in the lilac pants is from Europe)

MartiniDad and our wonderful nanny did a great job of holding down the fort. #1Son didn't miss a beat and even recognized me when I got home. Thankfully, he still appears to love me and know I'm his mother.

Return to Philadelphia

2010-07-29T16:29:00.000-07:00

Of all the things I'd like to remember about this time in my life - my kid, my wife, my friends - I think the thing I'll be most likely remember about this summer is that it was hot.

Damn hot.

Middle of Africa (like the desert parts) hot.

Proof:

Man. That's hot.

The title of this post would be a bit odd if all I did was mention the weather, so let me mention that this week was occasion for me to hop up to Philadelphia for a work meeting. #1Wife and I lived in Philapa for 3 years when I was a resident - a time we both remember very differently. I remember working a lot and then being out in the city every spare minute. She remembers it being cold and that I was working a lot.

In any case, one of the highlights of any visit to Philapa is seeing old friends. I met up with one of my oldest friends (and biggest cheerleaders) right after getting off the plane. First things first: Osteria was one of the best restaurants I've been to in the last year but wondering why the hell I was parking at a Meineke and if my rental Prius was going to get hybrid-jacked was a not highlight.

The food, service, ambiance and company more than made up for it though. In any case, FJC4, here's to you:

I know. I can't believe we have jobs either.
The blurriness, by the way, has NOTHING to do with the wine he's hold up. I swear.

A great meal with a great friend later, I would drive up to the middle of nowhere to stay in a random Inn where I would - literally - show myself to the room. They emailed me the combination to the front door of the Inn.

The front door has a combination. Who are these people?

I'll not name the Inn because if people find out about this, it'll be vandalized on principle alone.
After the meeting, BigTony and I had some time to kill and had a minute to walk through the Italian section. Meats and Cheeses as far as the eye can see:

Are those speed bags above my head? No. Cheese. The amazing thing is that there are 11 of these places all right next to each other and they all have a little grandmother in the back hand-tying the mozzarella. At the end of the Italian section, the dueling Philly Cheesesteak places: Geno's and Pat's. Here's BigTony getting ready to tear into a little bit of tourist heaven. I know it's not the best in the city. BigTony knows it's not the best in the city. But whatever. It's historical. Like the Liberty Bell. 'Cept different.

And no stop to the Italian section would be complete without a little espresso on the way out:

So after all this, we're driving through on the way out - passing through BigTony's old neighborhood, my old neighborhood, past the art museum and waterfront and you get to asking yourself - "why don't I live here? This place has real personality." And then you remember:

The airport strikes again. In all fairness, it was the Atlanta airport's fault but it's the indifference in employees that you can only really find at PHL.

I know - no #1Son in this one. Gratuitously - here he is showing off hiz climbing skillz. Enjoy:

FYI: It ends with an assault on the paparazzi.

Leaving on a jet plane....

2010-07-24T07:41:00.000-07:00

Hi there! #1Wife here again! So, I've been thinking about travel a lot recently. My job requires a decent amount of pretty major travel. In fact, I am going to LA, Paris, Israel, Barcelona and Tokyo before the end of the year. This all sounds exotic and wonderful but the truth is, I will be sitting in an air conditioned room for most of time I am in all of these great locales. Don't get me wrong, there will be some fun moments (for example, next week I am going on a booze cruise out of Marina del Rey with the work peeps which should be interesting if nothing else) but I am mostly concerned about missing #1son so much that I can't stand it. I know he will be well cared for between Martinidad and our wonderful nanny, but it is really hard on mommy to be away for a week at a time. I mean, who isn't going to miss this

On the other side of the coin, I am missing the days of wonderful, international travel for pleasure. We used to take 1 or 2 major trips every year but that isn't going to happen any time soon. I am already daydreaming about our 10 year anniversary trip....it's only 1.5 years away! It seems like everyone I know is going on fabulous vacations this summer. I received a group email asking about dates for a get together at the home of BestMan and someone replied to all and wrote "Hello from Corsica...I will be in Miami for a few days in August then I am leaving to travel again..." Um, hello? Doesn't anyone have a JOB anymore? Sorry, I digress!

I do like my job (most of the time) and I do like a lot of the things that go along with having a job...my own money, adult interaction, feeling like I am contributing, etc, but the travel can be hard. Any working parents out there have a good strategy for managing business travel? I would love some advice!

Part of Being Dad is Smelling Like Old Spice

2010-07-16T07:23:00.001-07:00

So. I have very strong memories of my dad buying Old Spice aftershave. Don't ask me why. I am sure there are a dozens of MBAs sitting around the halls of Procter & Gamble (I actually know some of them) wondering how they can make sure that #1Son will grow up with similar warm fuzzies about a 5 cent bottle of smelly alcohol solution they can charge $6 for. Capitalism at its 'warms the cockles of my heart' best.

Then I saw these ads.

Apparently the Old Spice team huddled in some windowless studio and did 80 of these in 12 hours and came back for more the next day. I wish I could articulate how clever these are. They are:

all rolled into one. If I met the guy (girl. whatever) that came up with this, I would buy them a beer. I would likely buy them a Miller High Life. Not because it's great, but because they did the ad proclaiming it was the Champagne of Beers. (This is still brilliant).

So, Old Spice, you had me at Hello. About three months ago, BigTony was telling me about how he uses fancy soaps and it really makes a difference. I was proud to say:

BigTony, I'm an Old Spice guy. Have been since I was 11.

The Proof:

So there. It Smells Like Dad. And Every Kid Wants To Be Dad. That's why I'm an Old Spice guy. That the commercial somehow captures that (without going into the Dad bit - more of just being an incredibly effective but ridiculous caricature of a guy) is just superlative.

To my Procter & Gamble colleagues holed up in a windowless room doing market research somewhere in Ohio, I offer me and The Boy as a potential longitudinal case study.

On the Food and Boy front, I was on solo Dad duty for one morning this weekend and decided it was high time #1Son went out with me for a burger. I've heard about this new place Farm Burger where they have the grass fed dry aged fresh ground beef and thought, "I like that. We're going there." So we did. It was everything I thought it would be and more.

I was rewarded with, maybe, the best burger I've had in years:

And #1Son had his first french fry.

I am confident he will warm up to them. Inspired by the trip, I decided two days later to make my own burgers. Alton Brown, thanks for the tips.

1.3 lbs of chuck cut into cubes:

Pulsed 10x1 seconds in the Cuisinart...

...and then I forgot to take a picture cuz I ate it and itwasgood. ICANhascheezburger.

Apropos of nothing, #1Son woke up this week looking like Flock of Seagulls. I can't believe he left the house like this:

Da da da da...Dale's Pale Ale

2010-07-12T12:33:00.000-07:00

Funniest exchange I heard last week:

#1Wife to #1Son: Mamamamamama. Mama. Mamama. Mama.
#1Son: ?
#1Wife: Yaya. Mama. MaaaaaaaaaaMa.
#1Son: ...
#1Wife: Come on, now. Mama. I know you can do it. Mommy loves you. Say "mmmmaaaaaaaammmaaaaaaa."
#1Son: Dada!
#1Wife - looks at MartiniDad - death stare.
Me: What?

Fourth of July - I'm late in getting these up - was entertaining. Ugg&Dabbey were kind enough to invite us over to their pool for a swim. At some point, The Boy came across a beer can.

We thought it was empty.

But #1Son didn't think so (note the obvious disapproval on my face).

And this was his reaction when we tried to take it away from him.

Dear Department of Family Services,
We don't let our child drink. Only beer. On federally recognized holidays.
Regards,
MartiniDad

Dear Pampers, I Am a Dude

2010-06-29T09:44:00.000-07:00

Came across this article in the NY Times last week on how Pampers and other sorts of baby-focused companies are figuring out that:

Children have two parents
On average, one of those parents is a guy
Having all their advertising come off as 'mom-centric' is a wee bit patronizing.

Big props to RebelDad for getting things off the ground. I was amused - if mildly annoyed - after reading the article but glad someone was making a fuss on account of us 'nouveau' dads.

Then, I got this.

I know it's a little blurry, so let me be clear about what it says. It is an email to me, a dude with a 9 month old, about how I am pregnant with a 25 week old so I better use sunscreen. Argh.

Similac does something painfully similar with their Strong Moms promotion. I note that there are, apparently, no Strong Dads - except for California based Hispanic fathers - apparently. I will be less irked at Similac since they gave me great customer service, but still.

Come one, people. It's 2010. It's not a new millenium - we're fully just in a millenium. Get with the program. Dads shop. Dads make formula. Dads change diapers. As much as I wish it was 1962 so I could have a bar in my office (oooooohh...I want one...), that's just not going to happen. So get with the program.

And, finally, gratuitous baby video of dad - contrary to the dogma of marketing departments in large corporations that sell baby products - participating in his child's life. Enjoy.

Wrapping Up At The Beach

2010-06-25T13:49:00.000-07:00

It's been a full week:

Either #1Wife or I getting up with #1Son at some ridiculously un-beach-like hour - I had a 5.30 wake-up call yesterday. Ouch.
Morning duty person usually ends up going for a run. If you're going to be punished with an early wake-up on vacation, you might as well round it out with what turns out to be self-flagellation given the 91 degrees and 90 degree humidity at 7 in the morning. Add to that the fact that you're pushing around ~40 pounds of dead weight (between The Boy and The Bob) and it can amount to a rude awakening.
Cure all with a jump in the ocean.
Breakfast as 'lucky late sleeping spouse' awakens.
Sit on the beach while #1Son naps and the InLaws provide some free babysitting.
Out to the beach
or pool with The Boy once he wakes up.
More free babysitting after lunch as #1Wife and I head back out to the beach while #1Son either naps or just hangs out in the hammock.
Evening wind down, usually consisting of a light happy hour followed by dinner.

If this vacation has taught me anything, it is to bring my InLaws on vacation. Though it's been incredibly hot - it seems 2x hotter than any other year we've been here - it's been the nice getaway it always seems to be. I'm already looking forward to next year when we'll be able to have visits to the beach which involve more running around in the waves and less eating sand.

One of the major highlights of the rent-a-house-for-a-week model of vacation is that the family can get together without everyone throttling each other because you're stuck in a hotel room. Especially enjoyable was CrazyUncleD, Fiancee, BigD and MotherInLaw getting to spend time with #1Son.

At the beginning of the vacation, #1Son didn't know what to make of BigD. This was likely the unfortunate consequence of an ill-advised game of 'keep away'. Or perhaps it was the matching outfits, which always elicit skepticism:

But, by the end, they were hammock buddies.

And, as far as the location, I don't know that it gets any better than Debordieu. Quiet. Almost total seclusion. A beautiful, empty beach. Almost no reggaeton (sorry, Miami Beach. You lose on that one). A club for evenings within walking distance on the beach. Did I mention quiet? Miami Beach loses on that one also, I'm afraid.

South Carolina: You Were Fairly Warned

2010-06-18T09:22:00.001-07:00

First, a note:
If you're not a follower (and I know there are those of you lurking out there that read but aren't "followers"...cough cough...I'm looking at you #1Wife and BigTony), please become one and click this "Follow" link so I feel better about the number of followers not being six. If you're not using GoogleReader, go ahead and get with that too, because it rocks.

Sunday was Father's Day. I am thrilled to be newly qualified for a holiday. With presents. I'll throw it out there: I love presents.

I am (unexpectedly) the new owner of a Venturi wine thingee - which I've been wanting. And a new cookbook (which I suspect #1Wife has been wanting for me - so I'll stop cooking out of the same old book) and slippers (which are practical and much needed). And a tie. Really. But it is actually a cool tie. Precedent set.

For Father's Day, there were a bunch of father-related articles in various newspapers. I liked this one by Tara Parker-Hope, which proves that #1Wife and I both do 60% of the work in our house.

We're still at the beach, I'm happy to say. We kicked off the weekend by being shocked that an 8 month old child was willing to sit in the back of a car for 6 hours, more or less, quietly. I am dumbfounded. Someone find me a lottery to play.

On arrival, we christened the joint. BigD is still a huge fan of the 'it's never too early to open champagne' approach, so we went for it on the first night. The martini in the foreground is not #1Wife's, I feel compelled to say.

Huge props to CrazyUncleD and Fiancee. They traveled a long distance in cramped quarters for a short vacation and had nothing but smiles on their faces, good attitudes and the promise of free babysitting on arrival. Kudos to you both.

By request, here's BigD making sure none of the subsequent wine went to waste.

And here he is the next night making sure none of next bottle of champagne went to waste either. MotherInLaw looks on thinking "It was such a promising beginning..."

An obvious highlight of the weekend was #1Son hitting the beach and the pool for the first time ever. His favorite part was the sand. How do I know? Cause he ate it. By the fistful. I'm not looking forward to changing that diaper. And, yes, I do drink coffee on the beach. I know. I know.

After a long day at the beach, who doesn't like a nap in the hammock?

Dear Department of Children and Family Services,
We only let him sleep in the hammock sometimes. Like if we want to go to the beach and he wants to take a nap. Or we're out at the club. Or something like that.
Best regards,
MartiniDad

And a couple of tidbits I've been meaning to share:

For those of you who've followed the Joe Barton news, this is hilarious (in place of what the actual Joe Barton news is, which is the opposite of hilarious): Click on the apology for subsequent apologies. Click on the link on the bottom right to donate some $10 to whoever is running against him. It worked against one of the Texas textbook re-writers I mentioned here.

http://joebartonwouldliketoapologize.com/

Finally, this is the funniest thing I've seen this week. It seems Jersey Shore is just the show that keeps on giving.

When in Doubt, Hit the Club

2010-06-09T16:45:00.000-07:00

I know. I know. It's been forever. Well. I'm back. And...catching up from three weeks ago:

We're old. We have a baby. We like to go out. There. I said it. I will note, however, that this is the first time we've had to provide the babysitter with combat pay because, if she were Cinderella, she would have been a pumpkin when we got home. Cause it was late.

The night started off with Kandrew and Eryn sharing a magnum of pinot noir with the group. Maybe the best bottle of wine I've had in the past year. Tasty. And free! Extra tasty! Here's Kandrew showing it off with someone who doesn't get out much hamming it up behind him. Forgive the picture quality BTW. We were limited to #1Wife's BB for the pics. Blech.

You know what tastes good with pinot noir? Piggy. Here's piggy three ways.

What would you follow pork/bacon/sausage/macaroni dinner with? Tums? Lipitor? How about a flight of desert wines. I meant to jot down the names and list them here but, suffice it to say, I forgot because it was three weeks ago but they were delicious.

We followed up that delicious dinner at 4th and Swift (thanks Swifters!) with a stop at Prohibition for a nightcap. The drive up Peachtree in two cars featured dueling stereos of Akon v. Lady Gaga. Akon won. Because he's real loud. After going through the phone booth, I went with a mint julip. Always seemed a bit fem to me but, frankly, anything that is primarily bourbon, bourbon and ice can't be all bad. It was delicious. It was so delicious I knocked over about 60% of it. Cool guy fail. A low point to be sure.

And, finally, on a whim we ordered cigars. They were smelly and obnoxious and the sort of thing I can only abide by about once a year. But they look cool when being flamed up.

So we got back late. Not late for 22 year-olds, but late for people who would be awoken in 5 hours by happy shining children wondering why everyone was so slow getting breakfast. In any case, we muddled through.

The kids made it up to us by being cool.

Here I am with children, both biological and borrowed. See if you can guess which is which.

Here are said children, contemplating how best to harass an otherwise harmless and fornlorn appearing animal. Who says animals can't infer future events? It sure looks like #1Dog sees a future of fur pulling and generalized uncoordinated traction in the near future.

Finally, #1Son appears to have adopted his father's skepticism at an early age.

This week begins vacation - so plenty of catching up to do. Get ready to read about:

#1Son getting professional pictures done
#1Son walking
#1Son saying Dada (really!)
#1Son driving (just down the block)
My 'coral' sport coat
Martinis on vacation
6 hours in the car with 200 lbs of stuff, somewhere to include a 21 lb 8 month old

Apropos of Nothing

2010-06-09T07:44:00.001-07:00

I am a Paul Krugman fan since reading this piece about him in the New Yorker. It's always great when world beating economists can laugh at themselves. Here he is in Get Him to the Greek, which despite my irritation at Saving Sarah Marshall, I will likely see.

That Meredith Viera almost gets hit with a lamp is just the icing on the cake. Because I would like to hit Meredith Viera with a lamp.

I Have a Confession to Make

2010-06-04T17:58:00.000-07:00

And it's not about me.

What is this?

It's a butt, right? And what's this?

You would be very reasonable to say, "That's a butt."

You'd be wrong. Those are not butts. Those are #1Son's legs.

My confession is that my son has three butts.

And he hates it when people confuse his legs for butts. See?

Okay. How about dancing to Sesame Street instead?

Secret Doors, Screaming Children and Upside Down Tomato Plants

2010-05-24T10:49:00.000-07:00

#1Wife and I went out for a MUCH needed night on the town Saturday night. Many props to #2Babysitter who - though babysitting for us a record fifth time - has never seen #1Son. Until Saturday. And when she met him, he screamed his head off. More on that later.

We started out our evening with...I can't believe this really happened...and that I am responsible...with a coupon. Ohmigod. Really. I feel obliged to say that I would never have done this on a first date. Okay. Let me explain.

We don't get out as much as we used to. I like wine. #1Wife likes wine. I got a Groupon. I couldn't resist. $10 for $25 worth of stuff. TheBestMan asked #1Wife what it was like to date an 80 year old on a fixed income. And did I steal any sugar from the restaurant while we were there? My answer: "Everything tastes better with a coupon." Ohmigod. I can't believe I said that.

Well deserved, my friend. Well deserved.

That being said, the Groupon bought us duck confit flatbread and Tempranillo. At Cellar 56. If you haven't gone - give it a whirl. Nice 1/2 glasses. So you can have four and still have two. Sort of like having the small martinis.

So there. I don't feel bad.

We decided to go progressive, so after the wine course, we hit Aria. A local favorite. One of the things I love there is that when you order by the glass, they bring you the whole bottle and let you taste and pour at the table. Like God intended.

One crab cake...

...and short ribs later...

...we found ourselves doing one of our (my) favorite things. Hitting a speakeasy. I LOVE speakeasys. Oh, 1930's, how you've forsaken me. After dialing the secret number into this keypad (in a British phone booth, which I neglected to photograph):

we were in. And by in, I mean I had a handmade Sazerac. MMmmmmmm....handmade bourbon drinks with two kinds of bitters and simple syrup. There are 16 kinds of gin in this place, so I'll be back. #1Wife went with the champagne cocktail. Neither of us actually ordered - I said I like bourbon and #1Wife likes wine and next thing we knew, we were being served the stuff we didn't know we wanted. Does it get better than that?

What would you do after such a fun evening? If you were me, you'd get up the next morning and - with a very slight headache - you'd run 3 miles pushing a fat kid in a stroller.

#1Son: "I'm not fat. I'm big boned."
Me: "Okay. I've seen kids eat chicken and rice baby food...but fried chicken and rice?"

Anyway, the other thing I did was clean out a bit of the pantry. Did you know we have Coke from 2008? We don't drink much soda...

Luckily, I came across this article in the NY Times on upside down tomato plants. I tried this and failed miserably last year. Maybe soda bottles will work better. Details surely to follow.

Finally - #1Son is entering the first of many (surely) phases. I'll call this one stranger anxiety. Look closely at the picture and see if you can figure out why.

Two molars, three articles (sort of), one fat baby

2010-05-20T10:57:00.000-07:00

Big kudos to my dentist this morning. We were in the middle of two (!) fillings in two (!) molars when I felt as though I wasn't numb enough. To his credit, he shot me up full of the sauce and gave me a little break. Thanks, Dentist. You the man. I will brush my teeth more than once a week from now on. Promise (actually, they were replacements. But still. Once a week. Come what may.).

Second, there are a couple of articles that caught my eye recently. First, reading this article in the WSJ on whether or not dirt is good your kids - it turns out that, to a great extent, it's pretty good. Reduces allergies and all sorts of autoimmune disorders. Even just having dogs helps. - because they lick to sniff their own butts. Makes me feel good about this picture:

Which was immediately followed by a full on facial cavity search by #1Dog on #1Son. She works quickly. And also reminds me of a microbiology professor I once had telling us about the time she saw her 2 year old eating a cow pie (!) and thought, "Oh well. More flora." Brilliant. That's when I knew I would never be a microbiologist.

The other one is this one, which is not notable because of the article, but because of the website. This is a family blog, so I'll omit the name. But go here. The plumbing picture alone is worth the trip. Kudos to you, lady-whose-stuff-has-been-ruined. Kudos.

The third one was an article on returning to work after being a stay at home dad. My. How times have changed. I can't imagine in a million years that my dad would have been a stay at home. Two million years. Is there a double standard out there? I'm sure there is. Luckily for #1Wife and I, we are both employed gainfully enough that we can pay Nanny, who #1Son thinks is his girlfriend. This work/family balance thing gets harder as the family piece gets bigger (and, apparently, fatter) but keeping both of those balls in the air at the same time is part of what keeps both of us sane, I think.

One weird observation: I seem to get a lot of parenting advice from the Wall Street Journal. Just sayin.

Finally, because we are not microbiologists, we wash #1Son from time to time. Here he is giving looking surprised that people are photographing him in the bath:

Can't wait to see what kind of damage he does with permanent markers.

I Have News

2010-05-18T19:04:00.000-07:00

Miami and Notre Dame may play. In 2012. #1Son has already asked if he can come. Because I am going. If #1Wife is 39.9 weeks pregnant with #2Son or #2 AND #3Son and #1Girl, I am going. Because it is Miami v. Notre Dame. Catholics (of which I am a lapsed one) v. Convicts (of which I am apparently affiliated through educational choice) - all that being said, I am not torn.

Lest we forget:

Random Pictures and Video

2010-05-16T19:02:00.000-07:00

I was going to rail against Parents magazine here but instead I'll throw out a few pics from the last few days. #1Son gets more handsy by the hour and is working on the weeble-wobble crawl. Still backwards but with something of a motor.

Here he is appearing very charming:

It was followed by an attempt to eat his own foot:

Don't believe me? Exhibit B:

It turns out when it comes to slobbering all over everything, including his own feet, he appears to have learned it from his canine sisters. Here we are trying to have a family photo:

And, finally, something I like to call "#1 Wife Tormenting Her Son With His Own Shoe." Enjoy:

If I'm One Thing Consistently, It Is Remiss...

2010-05-11T18:25:00.000-07:00

Okay. A co-worker looked at this blog for the first time Monday and told me how much she liked it. Very flattering. She also asked, "So you made duck fat steaks this weekend?"

Um. No.

That was two weekends ago.

I get it. I'm not that reliable a blogger. I'll point out that I am a modestly more reliable father (What? Every kid should learn how to change his own diaper at some point, no? Necessity is the mother of invention. That's what I say. Fo realz.).

So, I have some stuff for y'alz today. A mega-post. Lot of pictures and running commentary.

First up: #1Son. He's the reason for the blog anyway (don't tell the martinis). He's figured out how to crawl. Sort of. By crawl, I mean he gets on his belly and sort of rolls around like a weeble wobble and then scoots. Backwards. I can only imagine how frustrating this must be. As a guy who I once went wakeboarding with would say (major inside joke alert): "Stupid laws of physics."

I like to call this sequence, "Oh the Places You'll Go" or "Exercise in Futility."

First up, escape from the play mat thing. Except he was trying to get onto the play mat thing:

Here we are edging away from the couch. By edging away from the couch, I mean getting wedged under it two seconds later.

Followed by "Stupid couch. Karate kick coming!"

And finally, an ill executed attempt at escape, followed by re-wedging under the couch:

This was all followed by the removal of the coffee table in the background. Ah, the first removal of furniture which, on reflection, is the perfect height for maiming small children with underdeveloped spatial relationship skills. Bye coffee table. See you in four years.

The other thing that happened this week was that I went to Nashville. I will go ahead and throw Nashville out as the "Greatest Under the Radar City to Eat in America." Exhibit A (to be followed by a story of the time I participated in stealing a table from a restaurant - with the woman who is now my wife - in a later post): SatCo Tacos. Mmmmm...tacos:

Cool In Vivo magazine in the background, me. Oh well, you can take the dork out of the office...

And finally, I am pleased to announce the return of Mad Men. Almost. Not quite yet. July. Maybe August. Whatever. It's right around the corner. I celebrated by "Mad Men-ing" myself. This is one of the most awesome things I've seen in the era of being interactive with my TV. What would be more awesome is if someone would bring a bar and stick it in my office. Not THE office, where it would be communal: M-Y office. With a well stocked ice bucket, please.

So here I am all Mad Men'ed up:

I'm not a smoker, but if it was the '60's I would have been so I could be cool. Because I cave under peer pressure.

Here I am decked out for formal:

Sometimes this stuff hits a little too close for home. I was going to crop out BigD but, frankly, the man's got a following on this blog:

Wow. #1Wife made one of herself:

Me to #1Wife: "You know, I don't really see the resemblance in your Mad Men picture."
#1Wife: "My Mad Men picture? What Mad Men picture? You mean the cartoon?"
Me: "Yeah."
#1Wife: "It's a cartoon." Eye rolling.

Natch. Got it.

Finally, finally...a huge milestone this weekend: Sitting up in the grocery cart.

Still need help with the hair, though. And some shoes. Who takes their kid to the store without shoes?

Random Evidence of a Cluttered Life

2010-05-04T07:32:00.000-07:00

What would you do if you ate one of the best steaks you ever ate on Saturday? Would you try a different cut on Sunday to taste test it? Of course not. That's ridiculous.

Whatever. I did it yesterday.

Ribeye. Maillard. BOOM! Is this a sign of some weird illness? As Jesse Jackson once said:
"If eating a ribeye cooked in duck fat is wrong, I don't wanna be right."

And now, a little section I like to call, APROPOS OF NOTHING:

Overheard in my office last week:

"I was 155 pounds...as an adult! I had dysentery at the time. It was a great diet."
Same person, 1 hour later: "The first time I started Atkins, I cut out all the carbs. That means no fiber. What a disaster that was. I was really pissed off."
Same person, 1 hour after that: "It would be fine if all he did was drink a bottle of wine by himself - but he would come back from Puerto Rico, stop at the 7Eleven and buy a pint of Haagen Daaz. And then he would eat it. WHO LIVES LIKE THAT?"

The point here is that my office is weird. Really weird. I don't know where you work but I am sure my office is really different.

As far as personal updates: #1Wife is still in NOLA. She claims to have no beads. I will be inspecting luggage Wednesday evening. Look for an update Thursday.

And, because everyone asks like every single day, The Jumparoo (I am confident the girth of the legs is 100% attributed to muscle):

Mmmmmmmmm...Maillard Reaction...

2010-05-02T09:46:00.000-07:00

So, #1Son and I are back on bachelor status for the weekend. #1Wife has another weekend away for work (blech) but instead of somewhere fun - like Israel - where she went last time, she is stuck going to New Orleans. NEW OR-WHAT? REALLY? Yes. New Orleans. "For work." Mmm hmm. I trust she is spending all her time here:

Not here:

But if I find beads in her laptop bag, I'm going to be pissed. Before she left though, she helped #1Son do what he does best: Eat.

So The Dude and I have been obliged to figure out stuff to keep ourselves entertained. I'm happy to say that, so far, we are both still alive. Everything else is gravy.

And speaking of gravy, I had this weekend targeted for the obligatory "#1Wife is out of town so I'm going to fill up the house with smoke and cook a steak" and french fries dinner when I stumbled on this post in the Bitten Blog from the NY Times.

Most steaks (read, most steaks worth eating) are cooked at ridiculously high heats - 700, 800 degrees - searing the outside to develop the crust. Reading Bittman's post on using lower heat is something of a revelation and reminded me of the Maillard Reaction.

What is the Maillard Reaction? So glad you asked. Bring small amounts of sugar and proteins together and add heat and you get the caramelization-like (but not caramelized) creation of new flavors plus browned crispiness. I know. Sounds ridiculous. The point is that Bitten argues you can cook the steak at 350 degrees instead of 700 and make it good - maybe better. Though this "Maillard Reacion" is supposed to happen to meat between 300-500 degrees, I was skeptical.

Plus I have to think of what to describe so it can be called the "MartiniDad reaction." Hmmm...ice+gin+vermouth+shaking...there's something there. I digress...

Beginning with a regular (non-aged) but respectable steak from an actual butcher (not shrink wrapped) is a nice first step. The stuff on there is salt and pepper. I didn't drop the steak on the floor first:

Then...my secret weapon. No butter. No oil. No grill. Duck fat. BOOM goes the dynamite! Here's a little bit of the dynamite going BOOM! in the pan. It melts like butter. 'Cept different.

After 4 minutes in just a little teensy bit of duck fat, I turned the steak and saw this. Mmmmmmm...science is delicious.

Science is even more delicious with french fries and red wine.

How did #1Son take to the duck fat cooked steak? I'm sure one day he will read this and be upset to find his father was even more selfish than he imagined. All he had was sweet potato. I did take a picture of him using the night vision mode the fancy camera, though. He seems none the worse for the wear.

And, finally, just to round out the picture taking, here he is seducing his rattle.

Stay thirsty my friends.

Badly In Search of a Unifying Theme

2010-04-25T18:01:00.000-07:00

That is, I don't have a unifying theme for this post other than, well, I'm back blogging. Huge props to #1Wife for taking over the reigns in my unexplained writers-block-induced absence. Following up on Julie & Julia from last post - we ended up finishing the movie and, although I've never been a "Secret Chick Flick Lover," I love movies about food. Two thumbs up. I especially liked that they found room to include Dan Akroyd as Julia Child. If you haven't seen it, there's nothing like a drag queen Julia Child cutting her thumb off:

In homage, we decided to go French. By French, we mean several courses of food with lots of ingredients and, generally speaking, effort. Though there were no martinis, there was a bottle of wine we brought home from Argentina 6 years ago. I know: we should have had some French wine. Duh. Oh well. Here was the first course: Artichoke with mustard tarragon dip.

Lovely, no? We followed that with Salad Lyonnaise. Lyonnaise is French for "bacon and eggs." Here we are in the throes of - for the first time ever - poaching an egg. You'll be delighted to know it was overcooked but we ate it anyway:

The finished Salad:

We then went back to the French well for one of our favorites: Duck. We've made this a million times but I keep finding new ways to make it just short of perfect. This time, it was cooked perfectly but the sauce was thin. Oh bother.

Edible nonetheless.

And how is #1Son doing through all this you might ask? I'll tell you what. That sucker is grabby and agile. He is grabbing everything he can get his hands on including my lips, hair and eyeballs. After pulling the steak knife out of his hand at brunch today, we subbed in a cantaloupe rind. He seemed enthused.

Here he is trying to do a backwards headstand while eating. Brilliant.

And, finally, a blur.

As for me, I have taken a 6.2 month hiatus from exercise with only a spotty run here and there since The Boy has been around. Starting Tuesday, I'm back baby. 6 AM come hell or high water, I will be up doing something. There. I've put it out in The Universe. I'll look to you all to hold me accountable.

By accountable, I mean tell me, "You look fine. Just have a martini instead. Not at 6 AM though. That would be kind of messed up. But later. I mean, they're practically health food. Olives. Olives are good for you. Look at how long Marlon Brando lived. And vermouth. That's a substitute for white wine in cooking, isn't it? And we all know how good white wine is for you. And ice. What's wrong with ice? Oh stop it with the exercise already."

How old are we?

2010-04-24T07:09:00.001-07:00

#1Wife here again. I know I promised you martinidad but I have just been feeling the blog posts recently.

When I was growing up, my house was known for low volume smooth jazz. My parents listened to smooth jazz all the time and my brother and I would roll our eyes and be so annoyed by the music. Well....20 years later and one of my favorite sayings applies "mirror, mirror on the wall, I am my mother after all." You should have seen the look on my brother's face when he came over to our house a few years ago and heard low volume smooth jazz playing. Let's just say, he has NOT come over to our old people side yet.

Martinidad and I spend last evening (after #son went to bed of course) grilling outside, listening to smooth jazz and playing gin rummy [as a side note, neither of us was drinking gin or rum but martinidad did have some bourbon]. You might be asking yourself - how old are these people - early 30s or early 80s? I have to say that it was delightful! It helps that I won 4 games out of 5. We finished the evening off by watching the first 3/4 of Julie and Julia. We couldn't stay up to watch the whole thing - I mean, we are 30-something going on 80-something.
Anyway, we were inspired to make something French and challenging for dinner tonight. Martinidad will update you soon to let you know what we come up with.

In other news, I managed to clean out my closet! I am very proud of myself. I have 2 big bags of clothes to give away and I made a list of things that I need. We may make a family trip to the mall later today. We'll see how that goes...

Identity Crisis

2010-04-20T18:50:00.000-07:00

Hi there - #1wife here again. Martinidad has been uninspired of late so I volunteered to do another guest post. I had another "mom" moment last weekend. I went shopping because although I've lost most of the pregnancy weight, I am just shaped differently than I used to be. I also feel like I need to dress in a more mature way now that I am solidly in my 30s and a mom.

I think I dress very well for work. I have acquired a nice business casual wardrobe over the past 10 years of working (scary! I'm old!!). When it come to outside of work, though, I am at a total loss. I mean, my days of daisy dukes and crop tops have (thankfully) been over for a while now - and believe me, those were staples of my wardrobe at one point in time - I did grow up in Miami after all...
I also don't want to resort to "mom jeans" or anything of the sort. I always picture the women on "What Not to Wear" and think that I don't want to be them!!
Isn't there some sort of happy medium where I can look stylish, dress my age and not spend tons and tons of $$ on clothes?! I am in serious need of a fashion consultant! When I went shopping last weekend, I didn't even know which stores to go into! Gap? Seems too immature - reminds me of high school. Bloomingdales? Too expensive - I need a lot of stuff and I can't afford to buy all expensive stuff. Forever 21? Talbots? Both out of the question!!

The worst part was that when I finally found a few things to try on at Banana Republic and the nice people in line let me cut because I had a baby in a stroller with me, the snobby dressing room guys says "you won't be able to fit in here with that thing (a.k.a. the stroller)" So, even if I wanted to try something on, I couldn't go into a dressing room because I had a stroller - UGH! I used to love to shop and now I hate it!

I have decided that my first step needs to be cleaning out my closet. Once I have thrown out all of the stuff that doesn't fit and the stuff I've had for years and years that just doesn't work any more, I can figure out a few key pieces to invest in. Then, I can buy a few trendy things that are less expensive. Also, I am making a trip to the tailor so I can make the stuff I do have fit better! Let's see how this plan goes. Now, if I could just get the time to try on more than 2 items in my closet before the baby cries or some other household duty calls...

This blog isn't suffering from an identity crisis. I promise to return to your regularly scheduled program of martinidad very soon! [as a side note, martinidad has been told that he is too much of a control freak so he has not pre-screened this post]

Was this a perfect weekend?

2010-04-11T17:35:00.000-07:00

Maybe. Maybe it was. The week was, frankly, rough. There were lots of work goings on and I was only too happy to have 2.3 days of uninterrupted not-work in front of me. The most important thing is that it is - FINALLY - 74 degrees out and sunny here. It has been an incredibly long and cold winter. I am sure the people from metro DC would punch me in the face for saying so after getting eleventy-three feet of snow but enough is enough.

Among the surprises in store for the weekend were a couple of firsts:

#1Son got put in a ridiculous hat. This was actually his second ridiculous hat. We had a ridiculous winter hat that will surely make him parent-cidal when the time comes. Ladies and gentlemen, the summer version (ummmmm...is this like Desert Storm or something?):

#1Wife put #1Son in something called a Jumparoo. Imagine my surprise. Imagine his surprise. Marvel at his sheer delight at bouncing:

I stuck #1Son on a swing for the first time. It was a motion-filled weekend, to say the least. Forgive #1Wife the 90 degree switch halfway through - I am actually the designated videographer. Marvel at his sheer delight at swingin:

For those of you that are more still-picture folk:

Despite the litany of motion-associated activities, #1Wife and I found some time to sit on the deck and enjoy a peaceful meal. With the appropriate pre-peaceful meal cocktails and hor d'oeuvres:

Followed shortly by bourbon martinated steak (I know, I should have had a manhattan), french fries and spinach...mmmm...spinach...

And, finally, it was a milestone. Note the casual smooth-jazz-cool of his pose. That's hereditary.

What would life be without pictures...

2010-04-09T13:09:00.000-07:00

Trying to quickly sum up my week, albeit without pictures of #1Son. Those will follow this weekend (I just got a call at the office, with a gleeful infant in the background, informing me that the bouncy seat had been installed).

Early this week, I undertook a round of sweet potatoes for The Boy, nuked and then scooped out, they were ready for the blender. Unfortunately, the blender was not in the mood.

Major. Blender. Fail.

We at the Martini house are fairly resilient however. After cleaning up (having the dogs lick the blender), we recovered nicely with his and hers G&Ts. Someone introduced me to the lemon version: a simple but important innovation. #1Wife is not sold, though, and sticks with the classic:

Finally, I found myself in Boston briefly this week. After a couple of weeks of random ups and downs, I was only too glad to take out my frustrations on 4.5 miles of pavement around the river on, what may be, the only 74 degree day in Boston this year.

We were unsuccessful in obtaining babysitting for the weekend (I mean weekend dinner...BUT WE WOULD TAKE WEEKEND TOO!) so look for pictures of food to follow...mmmmmmm...food...

It's Easter and That Means Donkeys

2010-04-05T18:03:00.000-07:00

That was the donkey that was waiting for us in Burning Bush, Georgia. Really. Burning Bush. I know...amazing. Don't believe me?

There. Go choke on that.

But even before that, we all had a very important event: a day off for Good Friday. I am on that. CrazyUncleD landed on Thursday night and here was his email from the day before:

"Apparently I was talking in my sleep. PatientSarah told me I kept saying, 'that's #1Son's house...that's #1Son's house.'"

That's alright in my book. so much so that we spent the majority of Good Friday stopping at four different stores looking for limes. Four? I know...I know...but it was worth it. Or so I'm told. Here's the aftermath (using the Anniversary Citrus Reamer, no less):

The recipe? Four parts good tequila, two parts fresh lime juice, one part triple sec and a dash of sugar. The result...refreshing deliciousness that may result in a new blog: makemomamargarita. I went ahead and reserved it just in case. Here are #1Wife and CrazyUncleD before the first one:

Before that, we'd ventured out to Verde for lunch where, oddly, no one had a margarita. Go figure. The biggest development of that trip? First time sitting in the big boy chair. Not me...the boy (excuse the milk). (Also excuse the belly hanging over the seat belt):

Back to the trip north. It was, in the word of distant-second-cousin-once-removed-by-marriage Chad, pastoral. Cows. Donkeys. No chickens. There was a barn, though...kids flying a kite by a barn, does it get anymore...pastoral? Norman Rockwell, where are you when I need you.

And what does a pastoral clan look like? Keeping in mind that I married into this bunch, here we are (the dog, frankly, cracks me up):

Two Funny Things

2010-03-30T07:17:00.000-07:00

The first is courtesy of one of my doctor friends. Without violating HIPPA (not to be confused with HIPPO) laws, he related this to me (I swear, I am not making this up nor have I altered this quote in any way. This is a direct copy/paste):

Great seeing you and meeting #1Son. I just wanted to share with you that a patient told me today that- 'I broke my back because I fell out a tree while I was swimming'- morons.

As if that wasn't good enough, MotherInLaw sent me this:

If you can't chuckle at babies break dancing on roller skates, then the terrorists have won.

It Has Been a Week...

2010-03-28T14:53:00.000-07:00

...since I've blogged anything. Bad Martinidad. In that week, #1Wife came home from her week-long work trip to find a fat, happy and alive baby and a very slightly frazzled but otherwise living in an unburned-down-house husband. We made it. Go us. Big props to Nanny who carried her weight, as always. Unfortunately, with the arrival of #1Wife , my greatest bachelor indulgence departed:

So long, parking in the middle.

One of #1Wife's first priorities on arriving back home was to take over the feeding. Here she is dropping some green bean love on the little guy:

I've been told this blog needs to have more baby pictures. So here we go. We realized #1Son was dangerously in danger of outgrowing his football clothes before the season rolled around, so here he is rocking his Dolphins outfit.

We always thought he was going to be a wide receiver. Offensive line, here we come. It's actually worse in the seated position:

Wow. He is FAT. In a cute way, I mean. But really FAT though. To paraphrase Chris Rock, he looks like he's baking bread in his socks. Look at that!

There are shoes he cannot wear because he has fat feet. That's impressive. Speaking of weird baby-clothes related things...why do baby pants have pockets? For cigarettes? Keys? Cell phone? Someone explain this to me.

Returning to regularly scheduled programming, Saturday was awesome here and #1Wife and I took the boy out for tacos. He was thrilled.

And then we hit the nightlife. Not really, but we were invited out for a little time with the cool kids. Dabbey turned 30 this weekend and #1Wife joined her for a surprise spa day (while I was surprised with a gassy 5.2 month old) and then we all met up for drinks. Here's me and birthday girl. #1Son would have been in the picture but he was up at the bar looking for formula and chicken wings.

...which reminds me...for those of you who just can't get enough: Sweet potatoes:

I'm fully aware of the dearth of pictures of #1Wife without wet hair. These will be forthcoming...

The Weekend is Over. We Are Alive. Send More Martinis.

2010-03-21T19:38:00.000-07:00

Not really. About the martinis, that is. The weekend is over and we are still alive. Alive and well, actually. I'll go ahead and throw the shout out thanks to the kindly people who deemed it worth their trouble to drop in on poor little us this weekend and keep the days moving:

Ugg and Dabby: you rock.
Keith (not Meith, that's someone else, stupid. Keep up with the codenames. GOSH!): you are the worst email/text/phone call returner ever but you are a great friend.

#1Wife took off at 11 PM on Friday and it's been man time ever since then. My strategy has been to plan activities for the times when #1Son was going to be awake for more than 10 minutes, keeping both of us occupied. #1Son wowed me this weekend. It's pretty rare that I spend a full - completely uninterrupted - day with him so finding out that he is super-well-dipositioned dude who now is in full on "I'll laugh if you'll kind of hoist me in the air" mode is an unexpected double bonus to the weekend.

Saturday was just about the most glorious day in 2010 thus far. 72 degrees and sunny, we took advantage of every second. After the standard 7 AM wake up call, 9 AM nap and 11 AM second wake up call, Ugg&Dabbey were present and accounted for: ready to help us tackle the weekend head on. Dabbs hit the little man with some much needed formula and then we all took advantage of the day, heading out for lunch.

Here's Dabbs pointing out a weird over-photo-taking dad.

And here's #1Son telling her to move over...you've blocking my sun...

After Saturday lunch, it was work time. While the boy went down (yet again), it was time for me to face one of my many nemeses: high-chair, it's you and me.

I'm happy to report I won this round and high-chair will be ready for #1Wife's return, as requested. The afternoon was spent in the stroller (I wasn't in the stroller...just clarifying), running, walking, walking dogs, etc. There may have even been a sashay in there somewhere. Who knows. Then, it came to eat. Peas. Lots of peas. And this happened:

Please look carefully:

Really? Behind your ear? Behind my ear? How did you do that? How did he do that? Like this (FF to 1.43 to see what the pace of the weekend was like):

Hope you enjoyed that as much as he enjoys peas. I find quick, purposeful strokes are best.

Sunday was significantly less outside-ey, but here's to the original Keith: the guy who manned up for a lunch man-date. #1Wife wanted to make sure we wouldn't miss the Peachtree Road Race this year. I mean, who wouldn't want to miss paying $40 to run 6 miles? Some people are so unfortunate, they have to run 6 miles for free. Luckily, like many group activities run by the people with the best intentions, there was tons of pre-planning for a million people trying to log on at 1 PM:

An uneventful trip to the mall and a modestly less dramatic pea consumption episode later, #1Son tells me he's looking forward to PretendCousin, his nanny share partner coming over tomorrow. Here's to the nanny showing up and 9 hours of relative peace in an office. Hopefully, when I come home everything will be copacetic like this:

Don't worry man. It's cool.

Anniversary Week, Free Surprise Dinner and Texas Wants Kids to be Stupid

2010-03-19T06:33:00.000-07:00

#1Wife is headed to Israel for work for a full six nights, starting tonight. Though I've been, for all intents and purposes, relieved of child care duties for the last several days as she sneaks in extra Mom-time, the storm looms. Look for (hopefully) more frequent updates as I try and entertain a child for about 144 hours. My philosophy was summed up by what I told FairyGodmother the other day: "It's the end of the day and we're all still alive. Mission accomplished."

As though that wasn't enough, #1Wife's had a spate of working in the evenings here and there. That being said, the work has paid off and #1Wife was told to "take MartiniDad out to dinner and expense it."

My. How times have changed.

Here's the scene from early last night as I was pleasantly surprised by an impromptu outing to Alfredo's, everyone's favorite red-gravy-waiters-in-black-ties-with-funny-accents place. Pickled veg, gin, wine and red vinyl booths. Really, is there anywhere I'd rather be? Not on average.

Prior to the working late episode, #1Wife and I went out for a more planned dinner: our eighth anniversary. Although we kinda sorta celebrated when we took our mini-vacation, it seems as though one should be doing something on or near the actual date. The toast is the same every year: "No one thought we'd make it this far." That was funny on year one but I suspect on year 10 it may start to sound weird. Whatever. Traditions are traditions.

In that vein, #1Wife reached back to our first date for an anniversary present for me. We don't typically do anniversary gifts but I'll make an exception here. On our first date, for reasons that escape me, we ended up at a mall. Really. It was the middle of the afternoon on a Sunday and what else are you going to do? So while we were there I happened to remember I needed a pizza cutter. So #1Wife loves to tell people that, on our first date, I took her to buy a pizza cutter. Which is kind of true.

We still have that pizza cutter: The Pizza Cutter That Started It All. I'll have to take a picture for another post. Getting back to the anniversary dinner, here was my present:

That's right. A citrus reamer. I've been wanting one but I can't bring myself to spend $8 on a 10 cent piece of wood or plastic. So there. So #1Wife got it for me. In a nutshell, that's why people get married. Here's #1Wife blowing out the candle and getting ready to knock back the sparkling dessert wine. Yummy. Thanks, Joel Brasserie!

Finally, I'll comment here on the goings-on in Texas. As reported in this article in the NY Times, the Texas Board of Education has decided to, for all intents and purposes, demand that every textbook in the United States be changed to reflect a vision of the world that, rather than reflecting reality, doesn't upset the proverbial apple cart.

Dear Texas Board of Education,
Crazy Much?
Hugs,
MartiniDad.

This brouhaha has actually been simmering for quite some time. It was simmering to the point that MartiniDad actually sent in $20 to the guy that was running against the nut job dentist, Don McLeroy, who leads the change-the-books-to-not-interfere-with-our-worldview faction.
Congratulations, Thomas Ratliff, for winning against McLeroy. Here is what Ratliff was up against:

McLeroy remains unbowed and talked cheerfully to me about how, confronted with a statement supporting the validity of evolution that was signed by 800 scientists, he had proudly been able to “stand up to the experts.”

Unbelievably, he won despite being hamstrung by edgy thoughts like:

"I’m not trying to out-conservative anyone,” Ratliff told me. “I think the state board of education has lost its way, and the social-studies thing is a prime example. They keep wanting to talk about this being a Christian nation. My attitude is this country was founded by a group of men who were Christians but who didn’t want the government dictating religion, and that’s exactly what McLeroy and his colleagues are trying to do.”

Both of these come from a NY Times article here, so you can see

Really people? Are we still arguing about this crap? Come on. Why not go the route of the Kentucky folks and just toss out the book-learnin'? Hell, let's go further than that and just close the stupid schools altogether, like the brain surgeons in Kansas are obliged to because they learned how to balance a budget by praying for it to balance. All the schools do is propagate nonsensical notions like math and facts and science anyway. I mean, who has any use for this stuff?

I'm not all activist School Board Guy but, should #1Son have to go to a school where this nonsense is debated, I will be. They will love me in Georgia, I am sure (cue the banjo music).

A Day in the Life of #1Wife

2010-03-14T11:11:00.000-07:00

Hi everyone! #1Wife here. I'm not going to pretend to be a great creative writer like Martinidad but I said I would guest blog on occasion so here's my first attempt. I don't have the time or motivation to post every day, or even every week, but once a while something happens and I think to myself "this would make a good blog entry." I had such an experience last week.

I had quite a "working mom" day last Thursday. As a little background, we have been nanny sharing and up until last week, both boys were coming to our house. Thursday was my first day of bringing #1Son over to Keg & Meath's house (as a side note, I feel silly using all of these code names but Martinidad tells me I need to keep up the themes of his blog in my post). It was quite a hectic morning but I managed to get all 5 bags of stuff (diaper bag + brief case + lunch bag + gym bag + purse) and 1 car seat out the door and drop off #1Son and get to work on time.

One of the things that has been hard for me as a working mom is that I hardly have any time for myself. I used to be a 6 day/week hardcore workout person and now I am lucky if I can get in 4 days/week. The only way I can possibly even do 4 days is if I work out during lunch at work. Conveniently, there is a work out room with a shower in the bottom of my building at work.

So, back to Thursday...after rushing around all morning, I managed to squeeze in the time for a quick workout. 30 minutes of intense elliptical training followed by a little weight lifting - I definitely worked up a sweat. After the workout, I went into the bathroom to take a shower and realized "Oh crap! I forgot a towel!" My choices were:

a) Get sweat all over my favorite cashmere sweater and go to my afternoon meetings smelling like B.O.
b) Take a shower and dry off with paper towels.

I opted for option b. As I was standing in the bathroom dripping wet using paper towel after paper towel, this blog post was born...

In other news, Martinidad also asked me to do a recap of our St. Paddy's Day weekend. We don't usually get too into this holiday but Keg & Meath are very Irish and had a party last night. Not surprisingly, Martinidad was responsible for coming up with an appropriate cocktail. Here are the guys enjoying the drink:

We even (unintentionally) brought over food for #1Son that was green. As you can see, he LOVED the peas:

With all the kids asleep or on the floor, I was glad to see someone making use of the bouncy seat

Happy St. Patrick's Day everyone!!

Unabashed Filler Because We Have No New Pictures

2010-03-08T21:11:00.001-08:00

First, I thought this was incredibly clever and well done:

A Trailer for Every Academy Award Winning Movie Ever -- powered by Cracked.com

Second, I have evidence that the apocalypse is upon us:
The NY Times reports Mattel is making Mad Men Barbie dolls. Really. And they look like this:

Although I am a huge Mad Men fan, this raises a series of very disturbing questions:

Why are dolls that resemble well dressed martini-swilling adulterers?
Are the dolls for kids?
Should I - in this one instance - let #1Son play with dolls? I don't want him to be like Don Draper but I wouldn't mind it if he dressed like Don Draper. Just sayin'.
If not kids, for whom?
Will they get little martini props or have "Martini Shaker Forearms" like the G.I.Joe with the Kung Fu Fist? God, I hope so.
Why don't they look anything like the actors on the show?
Why are the women Chinese?

I hope someone answers these questions on the box or something. Cause I'm buying 'em.

Third, Going back to this post, the explanations of the various lies and the one truth (spoiler alert: if you didn't read that post yet, go read it and then come back here after) :

#1Wife and I met, dated long distance and were engaged over a period of 4 months: FALSE. #1Wife and I did date long distance, but it took about 2.5 years for the engagement to happen. .
When attempting to run my first marathon, I got to mile 14 before twisting an ankle and leaving the race: SO FALSE. I have never run a marathon. Do you have ANY idea how far that is? It's like 20 miles or something.
#1Wife once ran me over with a bicycle, cracking my rib while causing little discernable injury to herself. TRUE. That this happened after we had been to six wineries and were riding down a winding country road and I decided it would be a brilliant idea to turn around, on a moving bicycle, and take a picture of her was probably a detail I neglected to mention.
I played Pop Warner football while growing up in Miami, lining up against Michael Barrow from Homestead as a 5th grader (and losing desperately). FALSE. Are you kidding me? Michael Barrow would have killed me.
I can bend my thumb backwards to touch my wrist. FALSE. I cannot but #1Wife can.
After college, I spent 9 months working the night shift as a desk clerk in a hotel in Colorado before medical school so that I could go skiing and live in the mountains. FALSE. I did not, but TheBestMan did.
As a child, I was afraid of heights, going so far as to jump off an open, moving lift (one of those ones with just a little chain on the outside) at a construction site my father was visiting because I didn't want to end up at the top. PATENTLY FALSE. I was an avid tree climber and, when I was a boy scout, in charge (really) of threading the cord on a flag pole through the little eye at the top of the pole because I could shimmy up to the top. Really. They let me do that.

We've been invited to a St. Patrick's Day themed dinner at Keg&Meith's house this weekend. I will be in charge of generating a non-disgusting, non-demasculinizing green cocktail. Pictures to follow along with a guest blog from #1Wife. Tune in kids.

Live Blogging Vacation and Lying About It

2010-03-08T17:36:00.001-08:00

I will blog semi-weekly...I will blog semi-weekly...I will blog semi-weekly...I will blog semi-weekly...I will blog semi-weekly...I will blog semi-weekly...I will blog semi-weekly.

I am working on it. Please, dear 5 readers, don't give up on me. I am getting to this a week late although, hopefully, not a dollar short:

Thanks for the nomination SHU...for those of you who haven't read SHU's blog, you ought to check it out if you'd like to feel like a chronically disorganized, lazy underachiever. So...in true blog-style chain letter fashion I'm apparently obliged to generate 6 lies and 1 truth or I will otherwise lose the lottery that I was on the verge of winning. That stacks the odds against me but here we go:

#1Wife and I met, dated long distance and were engaged over a period of 4 months.
When attempting to run my first marathon, I got to mile 14 before twisting an ankle and leaving the race.
#1Wife once ran me over with a bicycle, cracking my rib while causing little discernable injury to herself.
I played Pop Warner football while growing up in Miami, lining up against Michael Barrow from Homestead as a 5th grader (and losing desperately).
I can bend my thumb backwards to touch my wrist.
After college, I spent 9 months working the night shift as a desk clerk in a hotel in Colorado before medical school so that I could go skiing and live in the mountains.
As a child, I was afraid of heights, going so far as to jump off an open, moving lift (one of those ones with just a little chain on the outside) at a construction site my father was visiting because I didn't want to end up at the top.

There. That ought to do it. Okay everyone, please let me know which you believe are real. At the rate I receive comments, I can leave this up for six months to receive five replies.

On to the good stuff. First, CFO is vindicated. You will all SURELY remember that I abused him in this post for talking about how great dark&stormy's are and how they are the national drink of Bermuda and how I have to try one and how horrible it is. Well - what do you know about that?

I stand corrected.

Completing the vacation portion of the blog: no trip to Miami would be complete without a visit on TheBestMan's boat. Though the weather was downright frigid (highs in the 60's), we muddled through. Here's #1Wife riding the bow as we are pass under a drawbridge which opened just for little old us. You know what's better than having a boat? Having a friend who is a member of a boat club.

Passing under drawbridges makes me hungry, so we stopped for a quick lunch at The Standard. If you are up for sitting around with people who think they are incredibly good looking but actually are just incredibly wealthy lounging on chairs while appearing very European, I have the place for you. In any case, it is very Miami and the perfect place to pull up to if you're on a boat. Which reminds me of this video, which always gives me a chuckle. The best part is the part about the mermaid.

In any case, we stopped and had lunch. I was on vacation, so I get to have beer with lunch like my uncle Alvarro did every day of his life. One Budweiser. And Earl Warren too. Really. And they both lived to be something like 90. So there. Here's the table for me, TheBestMan and #1Wife. One of these things is not like the other...

Later the next day, it was time for the main event: my 10 year medical school reunion. Here's, what I have to believe was, the best looking group at any 10 year medical anything. Excuse the alumni tie. I mean, where else does one wear something like that?

Finally it was time for everyone to get up early and head back to the airport, get on a plane and get back to the ATL. #1Son, as always, was a model of good behavior. Although I'm afraid he's beginning to model our behavior. See if you can tell the family resemblance:

Taken on the same flight. I swear:

LiveBlogging Vacation 2010

2010-03-04T14:55:00.000-08:00

Well, not really. I am posting, though. I am trying to beat my recent average of once every two weeks.

Before I forget, here's Ugg and me enjoying a proper dirty martini at my place after a hard week. Big ups to Ugg for drinking a proper drink in the proper fashion and ordering it old school: "I'll have whatever you're having." note #1Dog attempting to sample my drink.

#1Wife, #1Son and I came down to Miami this week. #1Son did fabulously on the plane,. He played it cool, keeping shrieking to a very comfortable zero. Don't worry, he was more comfortable once he figured out how to recline the seat.

Unbelievably, #1Son, #1Wife, me, two bags, a stroller and a car seat all landed at the same time on the same flight at the time the flight was supposed to land in the city it was supposed to land in. I am still trying to wrap my head around it. Thank you Delta Miles!

By the way, ever wonder what the end of the world would look like? If you didn't fill your own gas tank for Hertz, it would look like this:

Wow. $8.44 a gallon. They would be building a Dubai on the moon.

Taking advantage of the myriad hometown babysitters available to us (for free), #1Wife and I dropped The Boy with the InLaws and headed west to Naples. We were lucky enough to snag a free room at the Ritz on the beach (thank you, again, Marriott Points) and, as though that weren't enough, somehow scored an upgrade to the Club Level.

You know how you imagine that people who are insanely wealthy must be privy to worlds you have never even imagined before? That is the Club Level at the Ritz. Free everything with white glove service all day long. My head was spinning. My only regret is that I didn't have two more stomachs and one more liver.

These are two little plates we put together to eat while on our balcony watching the sunset. Are those stone crab claws and fine meats and cheeses? Yes. Yes, they are. I know...it looks like a doctored picture.

#1Wife is a sucker for sunsets. Here was her view, albeit obstructed by moi.

And here is the much better version of the same view. Note daily troubles melted away...and it looks like I took this picture from a hovercraft.

And finally, a small sampling of people who cared for The Boy over two short nights that we were away (and one who got a visit once we got back):

#1Sister...

MotherInLaw...

...and Fairy GodMother...

Next post likely to include boating pictures of the BestMan and my 10 year medical school reunion. I still have all my hair, can fit into the pants I wore 10 years ago and have a hot wife, so I'm going.

Aaaaaaaand we're back.

2010-02-27T15:38:00.000-08:00

To say that I've been remiss in posting is to insult remiss people. Mea culpa. I could list 400 reasons why I have not posted but, to be frank, I just haven't gotten around to it. since the last post:

#1Wife and I had Ugg&Dabbey over for a delightful dinner
I did not close a deal
I did, however, shave
I flew on four planes
#1Son has mastered rolling over
It got warm again and then cold again
#1Wife and #1Son and I were both out of town - overlapping Nanny as sole home-based guardian for 6 hours at one point.
That means that I was the child's lone guardian the night before: we both survived.
#1Wife and I wrapped up our bundle of joy and headed south

We're in Miami for the next week, happily soaking up what I would describe as 'not quite super-warm but warm enough.' One of the key benefits of this location is the queue of qualified willing and free babysitters who are of blood relation. #1Wife and I are going to take advantage by heading out to Naples for two nights to stay at the Ritz. Thank you Marriott points.

In any case, since the last post, #1Son has become a regular roller-overer and oatmeal eater. By eater, I mean wearer. I thought I knew the meaning of the word messy until I saw a 4 month old attempt to negotiate eating from a spoon which, apparently, involves using one's hand to take food out of one's mouth, apply it to your face, my face, whoever's face, the chair, a bib, socks and then letting whatever's left dribble onto one's chest. Or so I've observed. Here's #1Son and #1Wife, after the first spoonful when everyone is relatively dry.

And here's #1Son after the bath that ensues. Sorry. Didn't get there with the camera in time but trust me, there ought to have been a hose involved.

Ever wonder if you've overpaid for a car? Want to know how you can be sure? If the dealership sends you presents, that may be a sign:

And back to the beard. Here's the thickest it ever got:

Not bad for 3 weeks. Actually awful, but whatever. Nice bald spot on your face, me. Here is the modestly more passable goatee I modeled for a full day. Entertaining...

...but not as entertaining as THIS:

I deleted the picture where I shaved it down to a pencil thin version. Believe me, I considered keeping it. Very Selleck-esque. Not quite the pushbroom, but I was working on it. If I would have kept it, I would have called it a moustache. I don't know that I won't be revisiting it - maybe by #1Son's high school graduation.

And finally, another word of thanks to the good people at Similac. Thanks for the stuff. Though I am not a StrongMom, I do appreciate free formula, miracle products and good customer service. Keep up the good work!

What Does Your Car Remind You Of?

2010-02-16T17:57:00.000-08:00

First things first: how awesome is this?

'Sup Perth? Leave a comment on the barbie next time.

I remember reading (somewhere) that one should snap a picture with one's car: it inevitably brings back a bunch of memories that you likely would have forgotten otherwise. We spend so much time in our cars and take them for granted - it's nice to have a photo around, isn't it?

My first car was a red 1993 Ford Mustang. It wasn't a 5.0 but it was a stick shift and it got the job done. I had that car for almost 10 years after buying it new and crashing the hell out of it as an 18 year old. Luckily it was one of the models with an airbag. I think of it as my training wheel car because I got something like 6 tickets and 3 accidents in that car and survived all of it while never having any of either since. Maybe it was the car? Maybe it was the rambunctious 18 year old. Who knows?

In any case, that car saw me through three girlfriends and four educational institutions. Unbelievable. And I got something like $2000 when I sold it. The Mustang reminds me of being a stupid kid doing stupid kid crap. And wishing that I had a CD player in the car BECAUSE THAT WOULD HAVE BEEN AWESOME! Here's me and #1Wife, then #1GF, kickin' it old school by the Mustang back in the day. The car bra (remember those? likely not) was hiding some minor front end damage.

I ended up getting a 2001 Honda Civic as the first car that I ever bought for myself after that. Sadly, we never snapped a photo of Rhonda the Honda (are they all called that?), but that little thing served me well through the end of residency and beginning of being a big boy. Dependable. Black. Stick shift. This wasn't the exact car but, really, it looked a lot like it. Like exactly (gratuitously stolen from The Shu Box). That's because they all look like that. Rembarkable. That car reminds me of driving through Philadelphia, seemingly always on the way to work and, somehow, never on the way home.

When I was a big boy doctor for about six months, I bought my wife a big girl car - that's another post - but then, about a year later, I bought myself my dream car. A convertible. A fast one. With a stick shift. That I LOVED. That I still love. I bought this 2001 Saab 9-3 convertible when it was about 2 years and 20,000 miles old. It was, without question, my dream car. It reminds me of the first time I really treated myself to something nice. The car was the culmination of all the years of school and work and general sacrifice and the first really nice thing I ever owned. I wanted a convertible as long as I could remember and I'll never forget driving it home for the first time. When I put my foot down and the turbo would snap my neck back a little bit - I mean, that's heaven, right? I had the car for 6 years and drove the hell out of it. If Saab weren't falling off the face of the earth, I would have bought another one just like 'cept faster. Oh well. Here's me with #1Dog, who was new to the family when we'd gotten the car.

Although I never owned it, I feel compelled to include a snapshot of the car I pseudo-owned for 1 summer. Summer 2004 to be exact. A friend of #1Wife's was going away for the summer and asked if we "wouldn't mind keeping an eye on my 1972 red Cadillac Eldorado convertible for the summer." No. We wouldn't. No problem at all. Unbelievably, this is exactly what happened - someone dropped a vintage Cadillac in our laps for the summer - just to 'babysit.' It came with all sorts of instructions like:

"the top doesn't actually go up unless you know the special trick which I'm not going to show you so just don't take it out if there's even one cloud in the sky"
"but do take it out once a week or so because otherwise the battery dies"
"if it doesn't turn on, hold the ignition back towards the dashboard and try again"
"don't go anywhere without 4 quarts of oil and check the oil every time you take it out"

You know, just your daily driver. The car was a ton of fun for the summer and it got - really - 6 miles to a gallon. Though that was theoretical because the gas gauge didn't work so we just put gas in it every time we left the house. Is she holding #1Dog like a baby? Yes. Yes, she is. Does #1Dog love it? Yes. Yes, she does.

So what will this new car remind me of? Being a wanker driving a German car too fast in residential neighborhoods? Hopefully not. I worked most of that out with the Swedish number I just traded in. I imagine that come 2030, I'll think about it as my first Dad car - the one #1Son (and #2-5Sons??) got chauffeured around in for the first 6 (10) years of his life. In any case, since Dabbey asked:

And semi-finally, because none of you have asked, here is how the no-shaving-until-deal-closes is going: the deal is not closed and I cannot grow a beard. So we are at an impasse. But I can make semi-serious wankerface.

And finally finally, the reason you're all actually here, #1Son. The update is that he had his 4 month pediatrician visit and has jumped from the 25th percentile across the board at birth to the 75th percentile at 4 months. I suspected he was advanced but I didn't know he was going to be "a little chunker," as his pediatrician called him. He also rolled over to his right yesterday - the first time anyone's actually witnessed such a thing (the other time, he was flipped over but no one saw it). As if to prove he is amphibious like Chris Washburn, he subsequently rolled to his left. He also got the green light to go for solids. Here's a still and some video from the commemoration of the event. We have calculated that he has eaten four grains of oatmeal over the course of the past three days. Shout out to J&J for the jumper.

Enjoy the motion:

Most Amusing New Blog (Okay, it's New to Me)

2010-02-12T06:18:00.001-08:00

I don't know who these guys are but, one day - if things go very well - I will be this funny:
http://www.takeyourskirtofftombrady.com/

Salt Lake City and Back

2010-02-11T14:12:00.000-08:00

I was in Salt Lake City for a work meeting last weekend - leaving on Saturday, unfortunately. The bright spot in the weekend was that #1Wife and Son had the parental units in town to cover for me. Though this work meeting is always organized around the prospect of skiing, it's always remarkable how little fo that gets done and how much meeting gets done at the meeting instead.

In these cases, we have to make our own fun. On arrival, we noticed someone drinking a tiny tiny little martini. It was so cute - me and the boys had to order some.

It turns out they were tiny because Utah has decided that 1.25 oz. of martini is enough. Someone (who is not me, I swear) got around the law by ordering four of them. Here's a hand model of the second one. Up yours, Utah.

Despite the ever present latter day saints, BigTony (my scotch and food tour guide) somehow identified a scotch distillery right in town. Note the nifty ice bar out front. Joseph Smith is rolling over in his grave, I'm sure. That they let Italians in town is bad enough.

Though the scotch distilled there was apparently undrinkable (according to the incredibly inebriated Utah-an who invited me to buy him another glass of it - I demured on the grounds that he was a jackass), they did have a nice selection of scotch from...Scotland. Where it should come from. And they let you take little tiny itsy bitsy tastings. Which was actually pretty nice - you could taste a few of them and get a sense of the landscape. The whole thing added up to a single glass. I know because the side of each glass had a little measure of how much was in there. Really? They have little measures on the side of the glass? They're that uptight? There's really a little dispenser thing that attaches to the bottle and makes sure the bartender doesn't pour 1.3 oz. instead of 1.25? Yup. Really. Up yours again, Utah.

Being up in the mountains on work time, I felt obliged to grow a beard. Then I realized I can't grow a beard, so I grew some stubble instead. Having come this far, I thought, "why don't I not shave until we close the deal that I've been working on for the last 20 months?" So that's what I'm going to do. I'm not going to shave until we close this deal - or until I feel like it. As both my wife and (oddly) Homer Simpson say: "We've come this far. We can't not go farther." I'm thinking of not getting a haircut either. Here's me making serious face:

In a few short weeks (years), maybe I'll look like this:

Baby Bjorn and all...

On the baby front (I know no one reads this for the martinis - but it's in the NAME), #1Son is picking stuff up. Yesterday, he held his bottle independently for the first time. He had it for about 30 seconds before moving it out of his mouth and up his nose. Not bad, I think. Here he is contemplating the world of his rattle:

He also rolled over yesterday for the first time. I'll try and get some video of him going off the side of the changing table (NOT REALLY DEPARTMENT OF FAMILY SERVICE PEOPLE! I'M KIDDING! LEAVE ME ALONE!).

Interesting that as I grow more hair, he seems to be growing less. Here's a comparison pic from all of 2 months ago. Male pattern baby baldness is a bitch.

BigD and Connie Roll In

2010-02-06T11:18:00.000-08:00

This week was quite (as the 3 of you out there who read this thing might have noticed). Not a ton going on but I'm happy to report that #1Son is getting the hang of this 'sleeping through the night' thing. He made it from 7 PM last night to 6 AM this morning. Just...one...more...hour.

Work and home life have been pleasantly quiet. Pretend Cousin - the other half of our nanny share - has been coming over and he and #1Son seem to be getting along just fine. That's probably because neither of them know the other one is there. Most importantly, Nanny hasn't torn her hair out and she keeps coming back.

BigD and Connie came in last night and we took advantage of Valenza again. I had a salad with pork cheek. Yes, you read that right: 'salad' + 'cheek.' It was a little weird and different but now I can cross it off my list and not feel obliged to order cheek again. The rest of dinner was great, though I neglected to get pictures of BigD's champagne and my martini - we stand by our respective drinks, it seems.

Today was kicked off by me getting my new car! Yea! Pictures to follow. Kudos to Big Ben at Atlanta Classic Cars. Though the website has an annoying voice over start-up thing, the service and the price was great. I forgot to take a picture of me and Big Ben shaking hands. I like the car so much that I'm going to let it sit in the garage this weekend instead of driving to the airport...I buy a new car and end up on MARTA; how did that happen?

In lieu of interesting observations, I'll put up some pictures of #1Son riding his Bumbo chair like a horsie, working on face imitation, chilling with me and BigD at lunch today and, finally, video of him learning to box. Really.

See? Really...

Philadelphia and Free Range Kids. And News Stories About News Stories.

2010-02-02T14:12:00.000-08:00

Yesterday, I traveled to Philadelphia on a day trip - out first thing in the morning, meeting around lunchtime and then turn around and drive back to the airport. Not that fun to spend 5 hours on a plane and 2.4 more in airports, but nice to be home for wake-up and dinnertime.

That got me thinking about when #1Wife and I lived in PHL and how differently we experienced the city. In order, I remember:

Old school BYO Italian restaurants
non-BYO Italian restaurants
A city with a bunch of character (and the place I had my first martini)
Our old apartment overlooking the park

My wife remembers:

The cold
That I was working all the time
The cold
The restaurants

Funny how two people experience things differently that way. Well, PHL - I remember you fondly even if #1Wife has her doubts. And we both agree we'd love to eat our way across the city sometime.

I stumbled on a blog that folks should be checking out - if not for the content then for the general gestalt: Free Range Kids. This was started by a journalist who wrote a column on letting her 10 year old take the subway alone and then being excoriated by helicopter parents.

For now, #1Wife and I are helicopter parents. But this is the easy part, no? No decisions about whether to let him ride his bicycle to the park alone (sure...but not without a helmet), go downhill skiing (not without a helmet although neither of us has ever worn one skiing), or go race car driving (not without a helmet...until he's older, then with a helmet). Having a sense about when to let him run around on his own - that's the harder part, especially when you're bringing up The Boy in a progressive urban area (for the South) surrounded by a bunch of stage 5 clingers of the parental variety (not that this applies to any of our immediate circle of friends...yet). I was raised in the "come back when it's dark" camp and I look back fondly on it. Even now, I'm pretty good at entertaining myself when the need (opportunity) arises. I know we'd like to range a free range kid in theory; we'll see how it works in practice.

In any case, I thought I'd follow up this deep-ish post with two things that are a bit more light, one of them being the unfortunate state of #1Son's hair and his continued enjoyment of the bumbo chair. And the other being a news story about news stories. Enjoy:

Baby Formula, Grill Pans, Dinner Parties and Customer Service

2010-01-26T16:02:00.001-08:00

I told #1Wife the other day that I thought powdered baby formula might be one of THE greatest inventions of our time. When you think about it:

It's shelf stable for years at a time
It provides complete nutrition for months at a time (#1Son has been a formula-only baby for the last month or so)
It's ready in about 2 seconds
You can bring it anywhere - pre-portioned out
It's relatively reasonably priced
It comes with the scoop thing already in it
The formulas are pretty standardized: 1 scoop + 2 oz water = complete nutrition

Even more so than the Miracle Blanket, I'd say it's a miracle. I would challenge you to come up with something better. Internet schminternet.

All that being said, I inadvertently bought this formula...:

...when I meant to be buying this formula...:

You see how I could mix them up, right?

On close inspection, it turns out that one of the bears is walking and one of the bears is not walking. Silly me.

Stores won't accept returned formula due to contamination concerns - I get that. Normally, that would be $18.99/box out the door but I then I figured, "why not give the good people at A bbott Nutrition a call." And guess what...they sent me a check for the $18.99 x 2. They also enrolled me in the 'Strong Moms' club. Really. I didn't have the heart to tell them I am not a StrongMom...I'm more of a MartiniDad.

In any case,I am THRILLED. I love getting good customer service without having to argue about it. I was ready for them to tell me that I was out of my mind and CLEARLY the two boxes look nothing alike but, actually, they told me that they were changing up the boxes because it's turned out to be a bit of a problem. #1Son was a Similac drinker for life (okay, for 9 months) anyway but now we'll be evangelical about it.

This has emboldened me to return the warped All Clad Grill Pan we've been cooking on for a year and a half. If we pay $100 for a freaking pan, it better stay flat - that's all I'm saying. I mailed it off today...details to follow. And if they don't give me a new one, I'm going to clobber them over the head with the old one to de-warp it.

I'm also a bit delayed in writing about Jacory & Khaki, who were nice enough to come over and let me mangle their names for pseudo-anonymity purposes. Those of you who don't understand the formula, write me an email and I'll send you a diagram.

We started off with - much to Jacory's dismay - champagne. Actually pink champagne again rearing it's pretty pretty head; a gift from BigD that did not go unappreciated. As you might expect, when people come over the house, they expect a cocktail. I'm sorry to disappoint Jacory, but I'll make it up to him.

#1Wife knocked out a superfancy salad: roasted pears and arugula. I am reminded of Steve Martin in My Blue Heaven:

clerk: "What's arugula?"
Steve: "It's a veg-e-tee-bul."

Although YouTube failed me for the first time in many a moon, they did have the following clip, which I repeat to #1Wife every time we find ourselves in the frozen food section. This is, somehow, not as often as I'd like. Enjoy:

In any case, I followed up the arugula with duck and roasted potatoes. Mmmmmm. Duck. Daffy duck. Don't tell The Boy.

Khaki was kind enough to come up with Chocolate and Peanut Butter pie. You know what Chocolate and Peanut Butter pie tastes like? Crack. (That means it's good).

Finally, #1Son got a Bumbo Chair. Don't know what a Bumbo Chair is? Bumbo is South African for "$40 thing that should cost $7." Anyway, he seems to like it. And bathrobes.

Like that picture? Want the equivalent of the picture minus the smiling plus two minutes of running commentary? You'll love this:

Are Miracle Blankets Made of Miracles?

2010-01-25T04:55:00.000-08:00

No. They are not. That being said...THEY ARE DAMN CLOSE. #1Wife and I are Miracle Blanket devotees (don't say that devot-EE's; say it fancy: devo: TAYS. aw, yeah).

#1Son has been rocking the Miracle Blanket since a very early age (like, zero) and doing quite well with it. After he outgrew the basic swaddle (if you're a new parent, do yourself a favor and watch this video, it's how I learned and I have been called "a master swaddler"). There is something miraculous about being wrapped up like a sausage. Perhaps it reminds #1Son of this post, where I ate a lot of sausages. Most likely, that's not the case but:
a) I like sausages and
b) every time an adult sees this process, I am asked if I will swaddle them.

In any case, this is how it goes down...take one Miracle Blanket...

...and place one slightly fussy infant on top of said blanket (note maize and blue outfit which inadvertently produces fussiness in a child predisposed to orange and green)...

...then trap infant's right arm under the blanket using his own body weight against him in a Chinese finger puzzle kind of way so that the more he struggles, the more trapped he becomes. Really...

...then do it with the other arm. Your opponent is almost completely defenseless at this point...

...once you have him with defenses down, lower the boom...

...note the look of calm as he realized the inevitable is upon him. And then the legs...

...before securing the upper body, eliminating any chance for escape.

The rest is, frankly, a fait accompli. Notice the look of serenity: the only thing to do now is sleep. And wake up crying at 3.

About four minutes after posting this, I came on this clip from SNL. It is not about blankets but it is about jammies. And it is funny. In a very weird way.

BabyTalking

2010-01-23T05:43:00.000-08:00

#1Wife and I hit the hay at a relatively early hour last night. Taking a page from my residency, we've divided evening care into "Q2 first call/second call." That means each of us is on First Call every other night with the other one on Second Call (back-up) if there is an off-hour meltdown that needs to be addressed. I'm happy to report that each of us is getting a full-ish night's sleep every other night with a 15 minute quick feed (down to 1.5 oz., Suzy Giordano) on the other nights. If you can't fall asleep again at 3 - hey, that's on you.

Last night, #1Son decided he was going to hold forth. No crying, mind you, just...noises. This started (I'm told) at about 12.30 and went until 3, when I finally heard it (I sleep with earplugs when I am on Second Call, relying on elbows to the ribs to generate wakefulness if needed).

The noises went sort of like:
aaaaaaaaAAAaaAAaaaaaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAah

You get the idea. Getting up at 3 (finally) to have a look, I want to be cranky - it's only natural. But really, who's going to be cranky at some grinning kid who just discovered his windpipe (much to my chagrin)? And then you walk over and The Dude looks like this:

Okay. We're suckers.

I came across two pictures yesterday that I thought would be interesting to compare and contrast. I'll call them Before and After and let you all decide which is the after (after about ~20 oz/day * 90 days = 12.5 GALLONS of formula):

That dude is like the Incredible Hulk or something. Imagine if he keeps tripling in size every 3 months. I'm not very good at math, but he could have trouble fitting in the car seat when he's three years old and 1200 lbs.

And finally, here's a quick video from BigD - a fan favorite if ever there was one - trying to teach Miles to walk at 9 weeks. Unfortunately, it was cut short by a dead battery but that won't change the title of the video: Exercise in Futility. Enjoy:

Wow. I Am Super Old.

2010-01-20T13:27:00.000-08:00

Kottke.org (don't ask me how I ended up on that website) had an interesting post today on 'Timeline Twins.' The idea is, what would you the child think of your parents doing stuff that you the adult is now doing, given a similar time reference. They have this nifty chart which sort of explains the concept:

So, if you listened to Michael Jackson's Thriller today, that would be like your parents listening to Elvis Presley's first album during the time that Thriller was actually out.

Wow. I am super old. I wasn't listening to a song from Thriller today...but I was listening to this, which is waaaaaaaaaay worse:

Blame It On The Boogie came out in 1978, four years before Thriller even. So:

2010
-1978
----------
32

Wow. Then:

1978
- 32
---------
1946

So, my listening to Blame It On the Boogie today is like my parents watching It's a Wonderful Life because they remembered it from when it was in the theater. Wow. THAT IS TOTALLY MESSED UP. Baby Boomers were just being Boomed. I would mention the popular songs of the time, but I haven't heard of any of them other than in a novelty sense.

I'd love for readers (hello...readers? anyone?) to figure some of these out and list them in the comments.

How is it possible that I am this old but I am still cool enough to randomly be listening to Blame It On The Boogie? The Boy will think that's cool...no?

In #1Son news...the sun rises and sets on this book, as far as I'm concerned:

I'd like to personally say thank you to Suzy Giordano. While, as a rule, I distrust every parenting guide ever written, Suzy Giordano, you changed my life (and #1Wife's). I'm happy to report that the pamphlet-sized The Baby Sleep Solution works...#1Son is down to a single 10 minute feed in the middle of the night but otherwise sleeping from 7 to 7. BOOM. How do you like me now?

In writing this, I know I have (as my Jewish godmother would be quick to remind me) given myself a kunnahara. I have no idea how to spell that.

Taking 2010 by the Manhattan

2010-01-17T06:27:00.000-08:00

That doesn't really make sense, but there are two pictures of Manhattans in here, so I had to work it in somehow. Although it was more than two weeks ago, I feel compelled to toss up a couple of pictures from New Years. It was at our house this year as we join the ranks of 'people who don't go out for New Years because we have babies.' Luckily, this club is bigger than one might think. And New Years is amateur hour anyway.

We said goodbye to Old Year the right way, with a glass full of bourbon. Here are me, Ryan (no nickname? no nickname...) & Meith at the beginning of, what would turn out to be, a fairly sedate evening.

The Little Dudes came out for the evening, consisting of #1Son and his Pretend Cousin. He's Pretend Cousin because they're going to end up sharing Nanny in the next couple of weeks and #1Wife and Keg share a freaky number of coincidences (same birthday, similar jobs, pregnant at the same time, same grandmother's names, both ran the same marathon...I could go on).

Two notes from this photo:

Horizontal stripes are in this year but #1Wife hasn't gotten the message
He is not a bumblebee. That's supposed to be navy blue. No, he doesn't care about Notre Dame or Michigan.

The next big event of the new year was my visiting San Francisco for four days. You'll recall that I kicked it off by almost having a blubbering breakdown in a public airport. After getting myself together (and 5.5 hours on a plane), I was in San Fran for marathon meetings and my first 16 hour day. At dinner on night one - after our group of 10 had drunk 11 bottles of wine - our CFO decided the best thing in the world would be to order a Dark and Stormy. So he split one with one of my 6 bosses.

CFO: "You're going to love this. It's the national drink of Bermuda." He really said that.
Other Guy: "Wow. This is awful!"

After another 16 hour day (or rather, in hour 12 of it), I found myself at a cocktail hour thrown by a local law firm. I'm happy to say they had martinis there and, when hanging around with a bunch of lawyers, that ought to be a requisite. Apparently, the new thing in cocktails is to make them 'right sized,' at least according to this article in The Atlantic. (Shout out to CrazyUncleD, who turned me on to The Atlantic, the best $5 I spend in airports).

When I say 'right sized' I mean the opposite of the Ninety-Sixer or the Big Ass Margarita (I don't know this person, BTW...but I know the type):

Trust me on this, nothing ever good came of these things. JUST TRUST ME. So the new new thing in all the happening places is to make drinks more 1960's style - the Mad Men martinis, as it turns out, were about 1/2 the size of today's martinis. Cold all the way through and you could theoretically enjoy two without inevitably enjoying six. Brilliant. Anyway, here's my first exposure to this trend which has apparently taken root in San Fran.

One of the other nights in San Fran, I went to an 11 course meal at Coi - mentioned in my last post. With an 11 course wine pairing - mostly whites. When I pulled up to the restaurant and it was, literally, surrounded by strip clubs, I was sure I was in the wrong place but, on entering, I knew I was in the right place. Superlative service and super imaginative delicious food (raw oyster on an oyster liquor gelatin, anyone?) and 11 tastes of wine shared with Big Tony - my fellow foodie and drinkie - among others, made for a very pleasant evening indeed. We started out with pink sparkling wine, which always portends a good evening, in my experience.

As for 'drinkie,' I just made that up. It's someone who feels about their drink the way that foodies feel about their food. It's not a quantity thing. BigTony qualifies as a drinkie because he was the first to tell me about various scotches being peatie (as in, having lots of peat). At the time I was thinking, "Petey?"

I feel obliged, at this point, to mention that having cocktails is not the only thing I did at this conference. But the blog is not called Make Dad a PowerPoint Presentation About Long Term Health Care Trends. In any case, after viewing my 57th presentation on exactly that, I took two colleagues down to, what might be, my favorite watering hole in the world: Bourbon and Branch. It's a little speakeasy (reservations required, need a password to get in, no label on the door, no cosmos allowed) just on the verge of the Tenderloin (the most misnamed district of a city in the history of the world). One short knock and a password ("Necker." Really) later, I was sitting with two manhattan loving guys. Made with real rye and actual cherries. And 'right sized,' no less. Triple Brilliant. Here's my friend, Jacory holding up the menu. Kudos to him for going out even with a head cold.

This will cancel out the text message I got from him the next night: "I'm at a dueling piano bar with Charlie. Want to join us?" Umm...no.

Eventually, I made it home. The house was in order. #1Wife was in remarkable shape given the length of the trip. We made tuna and grilled bok choy for dinner one night (gratuitous dinner shot here...)

And this dude was as cool as ever:

Clustermess

2010-01-14T08:56:00.000-08:00

I have been gone for 11 days. Actually 4, but it feels like 11. To #1Wife who's been handling all nighttime feeding duties, especially.

I did not have very many martinis but I did sit through an 11 course meal with 11 'tastes' of wine. Going to work dinners is, sometimes, kind of like marrying for money: you earn it.

In any case, I'm thrilled to be writing this from the plane on the way home. Besides The Boy, this will be waiting for me:

I can't think of anything I'd rather do.

Quote of the Week; Mini Breakdown

2010-01-09T06:33:00.000-08:00

This isn't an ongoing feature or anything but, if I note hilarity ensuing, I'll try and jot it down here.

This week's quote comes from Nanny's first week on the job and #1Wife's first week back at the office.

#1Wife: "I feel compelled to mention that the shot glasses coming out of the dishwasher every day are from making lattes in the morning, not from doing actual shots."
Nanny: "Hey - you guys are grown ups. If you want to do shots, that's your business."

Apropos of nothing, I left for a 4 night work trip today. This is a fairly traditional 'kick off the year' must-do, not-miss conference sort of thing. Everyone who's anyone is there. I don't know that I qualify, but they let me come anyway. In any case, I was in the airport on the way out and - I feel the need to qualify what I'll write in a sentence or two by saying that I am not a hyperemotional guy; I've been called a lot of things but emotional is not in the top six - a Ben Folds song popped up on my iPhone.

Let me take this opportunity to reiterate that, other than the end of Rudy - when they carry him out on their shoulders and his dad is all teared up because he was in the game - I'm just not an emotional guy.

So this Ben Folds song came up on my iPhone and - there is no easy way to say this - I was a blubbering mess. I can't remember the last time I've been so choked up. It's a really simple song about talking to your boy and having foibles and, maybe, all the things you hope for being a dad. Whatever - I had to keep walking through the airport lest I start blubbering like a 4 year old girl.

Here it is:

Wrapping Up the Holidays

2010-01-08T10:16:00.000-08:00

Catching up on the last of the holidays, #1Son was christened. We briefly toyed with the idea of doing a nautical style christening with a bottle of champagne (like the one pictured here)...

...but, after a short consultation with our local Department of Family Services, we decided to go with the church kind instead. And, also, Salma Hayek wasn't available. In the spirit of pictures that will inevitably cause embarrassment 16 years from now, here is #1Son immediately before being christened.

Despite the ridiculous get-up, #1Son was the model of perfect behavior - suffering in silence through most of the ceremony. Shortly thereafter, he hopped on a plane with his mother for a 1.5 hour flight back while I drove this back:

Wow. Is that thing stuffed so that I couldn't put another MOLECULE of crap in there? Yes. Yes it is. I'm glad I didn't have to drive in reverse at all during the trip. It would have gotten ugly.

Capping off the holiday, #1Wife completing her 12th week of maternity leave. With the hiring of Nanny in our rear view mirror, here was #1Wife on Monday morning. After a very reasonable number of Sunday evening tears, she was up and at'em Monday morning with a, as my 9th grade civics teacher used to say, "a smile on my face and a tingle in my tootsies."

...and for those of you wondering how logistics with #1Son are going to date...meet the best $9 I've ever spent:

Full review to follow but, short version, he was down between 7 PM and 4 AM last night. BOOM!

First Things First

2010-01-04T17:48:00.000-08:00

Let's get this out of the way:

Okay, there. I need to catch up on the holiday week still but will follow up later this week with:

the hiring of Nanny
the drive back from MIA and
the return of #1Wife to work

Now some of you (okay, none of you) have asked for an update on BigD. I'm happy to report that, of all the Christmas gifts given and received this year, BigD hit the mark with wine. He gave #1Wife and me a case - ALWAYS a good gift. We ran into trouble when we got home and realized we're running out of room to keep the good stuff and, frankly, we're going to have to start drinking it. I've had worse problems, as it turns out.

But it's not the giving...it's the receiving...we should strive to remember that during the holidays. Here's BigD receiving his 'smaller' gift:

We won a taste test with that one, I'm happy to say.

And here he is with, what I refer to as, BigMomma:

Boom. Now it's Christmastime. For those of you in Miami, do yourself a favor. Patronize Old Vines on Coral Way. Alex is THE MAN at wines and otherwise. They have a nifty website where you can buy the stuff online too.

You know you're in a heavy wine drinking family when the wine guy comes to your house for Thanksgiving. Alex is Spanish and I was thrilled to be over the InLaws to help indoctrinate him in the ritual roasting of the unsuspecting but delicious bird. He knows about wines from all over the world and is happy to chat you up about the $8 stuff and the $80 stuff and he knows plenty about both. Old Vines has liquor too but, sadly, no Brokers Gin. I discussed it with Alex and, Andy and Martin, he's waiting for a call...

As if that wasn't enough, CrazyUncleD put on a pizza throwing exposition one of the evenings and let us eat the winnings.

I'm happy to say it was delicious. More to come, including sleep training and The Miracle Blanket - the mostly aptly named Miracle product I've been around.

We Are Officially Parents

2010-01-02T18:38:00.000-08:00

We are working on sleep training - and we are working on it HARD given that #1Wife is going back to her #1Job on Monday morning (T -36 hrs and counting) and we need to have this thing figured out.

So it finally happened:

#1Son was crying and we responded by turning off the baby monitor.

We are officially parents.

I am thrilled to report that 30 minutes later, we turned it back on and there was only the sound of hushed restful breathing. We are hoping that when he wakes up, he will look like this:

Sorry I Haven't Been Posting But...

2009-12-29T06:06:00.000-08:00

Special thanks to #1Wife for the intro idea. You have no idea how close we were to buying these. Better yet - I wish they made them in onesies (business idea, anyone?).

Well. We are still in Miami, albeit only for 20 more hours or so. The time always seems to go too quickly and the weather always seems to get perfect during the last two days of our stay. Not that I'm complaining - none of us was marooned in Chicago under 9 feet of snow for four days.

#1Son had a fantastic Christmas - or so he was told - he slept through 90% of it and didn't really seem to appreciate any of his presents except for the one I got him (formula). All of us appreciated the gift he received from his mother (diapers). Happily, many of the gifts came in the form of contributions to his college account which, at this point, now equals 10x more than I had when I started college - so we're off to the right start. I say we start mailing it in from here on out.

Looking back on our week, I'm happy to report that MotherInLaw trusts me to do handy stuff around the house - I love doing this stuff because I get to listen to the radio and hammer stuff in peace. This visit involved light carpentry, light plumbing and heavy electrical work. When I was asked to put up some curtain rods (30 short years after they moved into the house), I asked for a series of tools: screwdriver, drill, bits, hammer. "No problem," FatherInLaw replied. And then he pulled out THIS bad boy:

Wow. Just look at that monster. From KMart no less. Did anyone know that KMart ever power tools? I sure didn't. This thing weighed about 9 pounds, sparked in the motor housing (which I believe it was supposed to do - really), and didn't spin all that quickly. But it got the job done.

Christmas itself was a sedate affair - for the first time in years, the InLaws didn't host a 20 person Christmas Eve special. With two dogs and The Boy around, it would have just been too much. I'm happy to report that the kindler, gentler version of Christmas Eve (and Christmas) went off quite nicely with an intimate family dinner punctuated by much eating of roast pork, black beans and rice and yuca (look it up). Mmmmmmmm...here is a picture of my third plate:

We also had our first family outing - five adults, one infant, and a restaurant full of people waiting for a meltdown. Luckily, the meltdown never arrived. #1Wife was able to have a glass of champagne...

...and I was able to stay true to the name on this blog...

Leisurely Days Spent Leisuring

2009-12-23T11:04:00.000-08:00

Not really. But it has been a great time to catch up with my peeps. And these days, it seems like my peeps consists of the family and TheBestMan. I have been getting weird radio silence from two old friends, but I'm chalking it up to holiday travel noise for the time being.

Working in finance in 2009 means being very thankful that I have a job. Having that job around the holidays is especially appreciated - even if it means sometimes I work up until the closing gun at Christmas. Whatever - when I was a doc I once worked a string of 5 Christmases in a row. 5. As Jesus said in the book of Job, "Oy vey."

But evenings - and mid-afternoon timeouts - are for friends and family. TheBestMan and I went to lunch yesterday after a satisfying 4 mile run around Miami Beach (in 72 degree weather - thank you, Chamber of Commerce). Given that I burned 300 calories on the run, I felt perfectly entitled to consuming 2400 in a lunch of eggs, chorizo sausages, potatoes, salsa, hot sauce and beer. And toast. It's vacation (sort of) so I can have beer with lunch.

Note TheBestMan trying to reach over to touch the delicious lunch I was about to eat. I almost regret stabbing him with the fork.

The InLaws also had some friends over for a cocktail - I love this practice: have people over just to visit and don't feel like you need to be making a huge production out of it. I wish I could do it more often. It's even better when you invite people over for a cocktail and they actually have one. Here's mine, the oft-discussed but rarely seen 5-olive martini:

BVJD came over and met the baby. He didn't say much but they seemed enthused. I was delighted to talk martinis with VD. She's a vodka drinker but I think the bouquet of gin stirred something in her soul...maybe she'll try one and switch sides. We gin drinkers are always recruiting. Here's VD and MotherInLaw with The Boy:

We've now reached the Random Acts of Photography Portion of the Evening:

Here are a bunch of otherwise well intentioned adults acting like idiots in order to coax a half-grin from a child that isn't aware of what his facial muscles are doing yet:

Roughly what said grin looks like:

Said child in a laundry basket. For no particular reason.

And, again for no particular reason, a random 2 bedroom house in a run down Miami section of Miami with, not one but, two horse statues out front - among other things. And no collection of horse statues would be complete without semi-naked toga dude statue as well. And a fountain. And a swan. Why, people? Why?

Home for the Holidays

2009-12-21T10:05:00.000-08:00

Though we live in Atlanta, Miami will always be home. #1Wife and I both grew up there (though we didn't know each other growing up) and there's something about palm trees at Christmas...I don't know how the rest of the country does without it.

#1Wife has in Miami since early days of December - along with #1Son. This was part of the reason I felt okay being a traveling fool (See this post - where I take 6 flights in 6 days...yippee!). 5 of the 6 flights were, frankly, miraculous - on time departures and arrivals, empty middle seats with me sitting in the aisle, time to eat food here and there...just miraculous. And then came flight #6. It had to happen.

Friday afternoon in Atlanta is just asking for trouble. But taking off 90 minutes late - that's just not a big deal. But then a guy who plays left tackle for the Dolphins (or ought to) sat down in the middle seat right next to me - I was literally leaning into the aisle for the entire flight. How big was he? You see that blurry dude in the blue shirt that dwarfs everyone else in both height and girth? That's how big he was.

Whatever. I made it home. And now I'm here. Two weeks ago I had a birthday and I promised pictures...here are some pics of me, #1Wife, TheBestMan, BestManWife, et al, including #1Son's new Willie Nelson onesie. Aw yeah. :

After getting here, it was quickly time to start cooking. Now, I'm a Whole Foods guy - I think they generally have the best butcher around - and I don't mind dropping an extra $2/pound for the good stuff, but we've hit a winner: the most egregiously priced product ever is $50 for a CASE OF WATER.

No. We didn't buy the water. But we did make Chicken with 40 Garlics. Really. The garlic gets roasted and you eat it like butter on toast. Mmmmmmmm...40 garlics. No one was making out with anyone after that.

I'll be better about updates this week. But if not - Merry Christmas.

Away From Home - Part 2

2009-12-17T07:05:00.000-08:00

I write this, again, at 37,000 feet. On the way back to Boston after the brief pit stop in San Fran. Surprisingly, I don’t want to jump out the window of the plane.

Kudos to United Airlines for such a thing as Economy Plus. It’s amazing what a difference 4 inches makes (there’s a joke there somewhere). There was even room for my carry-ons even though I was boarding with the dreaded group 4 – the stragglers. My suspicion, however, is that as good as things are in Economy Plus, it is likely a product of making things bad for the people in Economy Minus. I can’t take credit for Economy Minus – Finance Peer, you know who you are.

In keeping with getting out of the house when on the road (I will NEVER have a room service steak – I’d rather eat a half eaten granola bar), I invited Finance Peer out to Burma Superstar, possibly my favorite place to eat in San Fran. Better than Michael Mina, Gary Danko and other places named after people with multi-course, three-digit-price-per-person menus. So there – stick it. I can’t claim to have found Burma Superstar on my own – thanks KZM – but I DO know that if you’re walking in a random neighborhood and the sidewalk in front of an apparently hole-in-the-wall restaurant looks like this…eat there:

If you did that at Burma Superstar, you’d be treated to ½ lemonade + ½ beer (delicious!) and tea salad and samosa soup. What’s in them? Who cares! THEY GOOD!

After a delightful dinner, I returned to rest my weary but well fed head at the Marriott when I noticed something disturbing:

Seems innocent enough – a catalog for bedding stuff. Pretty pedestrian, right? But what’s this??

It’s a catalog FOR MARRIOTT BEDDING. For those of you who can’t get enough of sleeping in work hotels on the road – you can buy the hotel room and bring it home. WTF. Really? Is this a problem people have? This is a rhetorical question actually – I know someone with Marriott pillows. Which is remarkable because they are very sucky pillows.

Finally, I have a stomach of iron. Really. I eat EVERYTHING. But even I’m not going to eat clam chowder for breakfast at the airport. Or raw oysters. Honestly, if you see someone eating raw oysters for BREAKFAST at the AIRPORT, try not to be on the same plane as them...it's not going to be good.

Away From Home: Part 1

2009-12-15T17:01:00.001-08:00

I am writing from 37,000 feet – the second time I've been at this altitude today and the third time in two days. Unfortunately, #1Wife and #1Son vacationing in Miami has meant that I've felt compelled to go visit all the business locations that I can possibly visit…in one week. Without getting too far into details, the resulting itinerary looks something like MIA:ATL:BOS:SFO:BOS:ATL:MIA. Really. In 6 days.

Oy.

Luckily, I had a great weekend just before the 'three points of the US criss cross' as I've decided to call it.

After arriving in Miami on Friday night, I had good 'ole fashioned Cuban food – sorry, no pictures – followed by a second birthday cake baked by the wife. Wonderful. Here's what it looks like in all its glory.

Unbelievably, about 3 hours later, I was looking for more treats when the idea to hit up #1BirthdayCake (from last week) struck me. Imagine my surprise at taking the lid off the ice cream cake and finding that someone had eaten the tips off all the pieces. Now that's just weird. NO one in the family would fess up to it…likely, it's The Boy, who can't eat an entire piece because, well, he has no teeth.

Following a delightful evening, I decided to punish myself…not wanting to do it alone, I called up the best man on Saturday morning and we hit the beach – for a four mile run punctuated by a swim in a remarkably balmy Atlantic off Miami Beach halfway through…

Reward? Croque madame + beer al fresco, please.

Many of you have been asking about Big D. Not really, but I'll drop an update nonetheless. The thing about Big D is that when he gets into something he really gets into something. The man has never been accused of being NOT obsessive. Luckily, his obsessions tend to center on things that can be construed as amusing. Big D likes grapefruits. So when he drives down from SC (it's a long story), he times his stop halfway to coincide with Harvey's Grapefruits. And then he buys some. Pretty reasonable, right? Ladies and gentlemen, exhibit A:

Oh, and he's gotten into wine. Ladies and gentlemen, ¼ of exhibit B. Really:

But it wasn't all obsessive behavior and eating with #1Wife's family and my friends…we also ate with part of my extended family. For Godparents, they sure do put out a mean lox:

As for #1Son…he could hardly contain his excitement at seeing me and the Godparents…the proof:

Make Your Drinks Ice Cold

2009-12-11T20:01:00.000-08:00

For those of you that have ever been over our house for dinner, you've heard #1Wife mix me a drink and - no matter how many times she's made it - she always looks at me and says, "I know...ice cold."

Finally, validation in today's Wall Street Journal:

"You must feel the cup getting ice-cold," he adds. "If you have that feeling that it's really, really cold and your hands can really feel it, that's when you know it's done."

THIS guy would probably make the second best martini. Rockin' vest BTW.

Who's number one? If you have to ask, #1Wife has never made one for you.

Running on Empty

2009-12-11T05:56:00.000-08:00

Literally. For reasons that are not clear to me, I was in a lazy/risk taking mood yesterday evening and this morning. Though I pass by 6 gas stations before/after the highway on my commute - I just wouldn't stop for gas.

I am happy to report that zero doesn't really mean zero. I made it to the gas station - finally - and snapped this photo.

This is incredibly uncharacteristic of me. #1Wife and the Kellers (of the Northwest Kellers) may have eyes coming out of their sockets when they see this. Funny story: once I was riding in a car with CKeller, on the way to the airport, when the trip computer on his car read zero and then we hit a traffic jam. I freaked out and hilarity ensued.

With #1Wife and #1Son in Miami for the week, I was left to my own devices for the most part. That meant lots of really high end business travel - like when I ate this delicious meal in my oversized first class seat.

Okay, I actually snarfed these peanuts and undersized protein bar down while sitting in the 34th row middle seat on a 6 hour flight. Really. Note the fine china. Oh the glamorous life of finance.

I've been remiss in staying true to the name of this blog - people might be thinking that I'm no longer a martini drinker. That's just not the case but, in the winter, I do tend to lean more towards a classic manhattan. Here's one made with Booker's bourbon (mmm...tasty!) at the Rosewood in Palo Alto. Since it was the idea of one of my 6 (9? 11?) bosses, it's okay. And any place that pours at the table is alright with me.

Finally, I'd be doubly remiss if I didn't shout out to Ugg&Dabby - two of our best friends here. They've been kind enough to come over TWO Saturdays in a row so that we're not total new baby shut ins. Here was the scene early on - good wine choice Ugg&Dabby.

I know, I know...no pictures of The Boy. He's been #1Wife (now #1Mom, no?) all week and out of my camera range - I'll put some up over the weekend.

Be good, y'all.

For My Birthday, #1Wife and #1Son Fly First Class...

2009-12-08T10:33:00.000-08:00

...while I drive from Atlanta to Miami. It actually worked out the best for everyone involved. I had both dogs and relatively smooth sailing and neither of us had to sit through 12 (19?) hours in a car with #1Son, #1&#2Dog and all the assorted paraphenalia associated with both. After dropping #1Wife and The Boy at the airport for their short hop, I jumped on the highway and made it down in a relatively smooth 10 hours with the dogs accumulating, somehow, 11 hours of sleep in that time.

While Sunday was technically my birthday, Saturday was my day to play a little bit. In Miami, that means going out on the boat with The Best Man - hereafter namechanged to Dr. Dave, because I like the sound of that better. And we're becoming more comfortable with the InterTubes. Unfortuntalely, it wasn't a chamber of commerce day but we made the best of it - taking a spin around the little islands inhabited by multimillion dollar mansions between the beach and the mainland. Imagine my trepidation, though, when we got on an noticed that, not only was there an oar displayed prominently on our rental motor boat, it was a broken oar.

If ever we were worried about, we relaxed once The Flash (referred to by his Chinese dog walker as, really, 'Mr. The Frash') got on board and took charge. Here he is gazing longingly off into the distance. Or trying to decide if he was going to jump on the stern (bow? stern? I forget). Whatever. Here's boatdog in all his glory.

Add, to that, the two ridiculous tourist boats we saw and it was a fine fine afternoon. Here are some idiots who think they are on board a pirate ship.

And here are some idiots who think that tiki huts should float on garbage barges.

After a quick lunch of Cuban sandwiches (mmmmm...sammiches), I returned to the InLaw's house in Miami and got ready for a little get together with some old friends and family stopping by for BBQ dinner and a good ole' ass whuppin'. Are Tim Tebow's tears the best birthday present ever? No, but they were the most unexpected.

How does one spell calou caleigh? Even #1Son was excited. He was dressed up for a typical Saturday night - ready to rock out. Note his arms and legs are blurry - primarily because he's rocking out.

I'll post some pictures from Saturday night when I hit the mainland again and have access to the camera. I broke down and bought a $450 Nikon SLR D40 because the picture quality on the iPhone and the point & shoot just weren't cutting it for the archival images we're trying to preserve on #1Son's account. The thing is downright incredible and a great value, apparently for an entry level SLR. Kudos to CrazyUncleDanny for the referral. He came through again, as always. Photographic proof of awesomeness to follow.

My sister came over on Sunday morning and me The Boy for the first time. She picked him up and, literally, did not put him down for 4 hours. I was afraid he was going to get a sore of some kind. She also brought over some old school Colombian food for me - some of the stuff I was raised on (and will now misspell): bunuelos, arepas, empanadas and chiccaron. It turns out, and i didn't realize this until I was about 19 and had been eating it for 18 years, chiccaron is slab bacon, including bits of skin, etc. Fried. Ohmigod is that stuff good. Here is my light birthday lunch, we'll see if I live to 35.

Finally, one of my gifts from #1Wife, the Julia Childs cookbook - a true classic and a staple of any serious cook's book collection. I'll look forward to having mine as worn as MotherInLaw's in 40 years.