On the Move

Every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end.

That's from Closing Time, I think. Am having lyrical brain malfunctions, but I'm pretty sure that's it.

Regardless, there is a new beginning in my blogging life -- at WordPress.

So, if you would, join me here.

This is the 100th post to this blog in just over a year. The timing seems right to make a change.

And, who knows, perhaps bigger and better things will come from this.

Thanks for being here so far. It's been fun. And I hope it continues.

So, update your bookmarks, your blog rolls and join me at the new I Got Nothin'.

Sit Down and Be Proud

So, here I am, writing my 99th post. Who knew I'd make it this far. Certainly not me.

Also, I sort of promised myself that I wouldn't entertain bathroom posts, particularly about my own actions, until at least the 101st post.

Well, screw that. We're throwing caution to the wind. I'm writing about it now. Number 99.

Yup, this is me. Living on the edge.

OK, so, the thing is. I'm a guy. This you know. You also know I wouldn't always fit into the category of 'typical guy.' Particularly when it comes to one of my bathroom habits.

I can admit it. I really can. Here goes. Ready?

Hi, I'm Mike. And I'm a SometimesSitter.

Phew. I don't know how you feel, but I'm feeling much better with that off my chest.

A SometimesSitter.

So what does that mean, actually?

It means that whenever I go the bathroom, of the number one variety, I'm not always standing over the toilet.

Sometimes I sit.

Why? I'm not really sure, but, I do.

And, you know what? I like it.

Let's look at a couple of examples.

I always sit at work. It's the easiest, cleanest and most convenient. I work in an office with mostly women. This way, I don't sprinkle anywhere, I don't have to worry about putting the seat down. None of that. Just sit down, take a nice little rest and that's it.

There's only one other guy in the office, so if the women find any leftovers or if the seat is still up, guess what? It's him. Not me. I take some comfort in that.

In other public spots, I'll choose not to be a SometimesSitter. It sort of depends on where and the overall cleanliness situation. But, that's the benefit of this. I can choose when and where I want to be a SometimesSitter.

I'm almost always a SometimesSitter when I wake up in the morning. As I trudge down the hall to go, I'm too asleep to concentrate on aim and all that stuff. Just sit down and go. What's the big deal?

Being a SometimesSitter is nothing to be ashamed of. This I know. In fact, I might be ahead of the curve on this one.

So, if there are, in fact, any guys reading this blog, how about it? Are you a SometimesSitter?

It's OK. In fact, it's more than OK.

So stand up, er, sit down and be proud.

What else? I got nothin'.

One Reason Being a Parent is Hard

Well, it finally happened.

"I don't have to do it all the time with Mommy."

Those were the words from my three-year-old when I insisted he wear his helmet to ride his bike, even for just a couple of minutes in the driveway.

I could go on and on about how we didn't have to wear helmets. But, fact is, kids have to today. So, my thought and goal is that everytime he sits on the bike, his helmet is on his head. No exceptions. Then it becomes automatic.

When I mentioned it to Renee, she definitely understood my point. And, agrees with it. Yet, there are times when she's juggling a bazillion things and Aidan on the bike for a minute or two without the helmet isn't a terrible thing.

And I agree with that. We're both trying so hard at this parenting thing. And the helmet is the newest challenge.

It's a Diego helmet, which is cool. And he loves that. But one day, it goes on without any issue at all. The next, you'd think we're talking about him putting an animal on his head.

It's probably our problem for not starting it as soon as he started riding on it about a year ago. But that was when he could barely pedal. He's a pro now, and we are trying to catch up with the helmet thing, because next year, he'll definitely be on a 'big boy' bike with training wheels and not a glorified tricycle.

We'll get there, and this won't be the first time I hear him say what he said. And, God knows there will be times when he says to her, "But I don't do it that way with Daddy."

Ah, the joys.

What else? I got nothin'.

One Reason Being a Parent is Cool

So we're reading stories tonight before bed. It was just Aidan and me.

Renee was at a friend's, and she took Erin with her.

Boys' Night like these usually start with a meal at McDonalds, which is always a treat.

So, we got back, did bath with no issues and then it was story time.

After Brown Bear, Brown Bear and a Thomas book, it was time for One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Blue Fish -- which is my favorite book to read.

So we're going through it, having fun and we get to the part about having a Zans.

Now, usually, if Renee is reading the book, Aidan will say, "I don't have a Zans. I have a can opener."

Can't argue with that.

But, tonight, it was pure joy to hear him say the following:

"I don't have a Zans, Daddy."

"I know, bud."

"I have you and Mommy and Erin."

I mean, how cool is that?

What else? I got nothin'.

OK, The Wait is Over...

....Sit right back and you'll hear a tale. A tale of a fateful trip, that started from this tropic port, aboard this tiny ship.

Well, I'm sure you can finish the rest of the song. Or, maybe you can't. Because a couple of times that I've mentioned my day with Bob Denver, a few people were like, "I thought you meant John Denver."

Is it possible that I'm older than enough of you, my faithful readers, that you really don't know who Bob Denver is? That really can't be possible. Can it?

Well, for those that don't know, Bob Denver was Gilligan. As in Gilligan's Island. As in the theme song in the first sentence of this post. As in one of the most entertaining TV shows. Ever.

That Bob Denver.

He was an icon. A legend.

And, as I found out, an incredible chain smoker.

Here's the story.

I was in Vermont at the time. Working for marketing/PR agency. We landed a new television station as a client and were assigned with the task of planning the launch party for the station. Basically, get people to care about the then fledgling WB Network. No easy task, even for this PR guy. Because, keep in mind, this was like 1995.

So, in order to drum up some buzz, the station folks hired Bob Denver to come to Vermont and act as the celebrity pitch man for this station launch.

Now, again, for anyone over probably 32, Bob Denver is legendary. Under that, I'm really not so sure. You may have seen a little Gilligan's Island, but not like we did. And, heck, Gilligan's Island was big for him, but for the even older generation, he was known as Doby Gillis.

But, I digress.

Now, why did they pick Bob Denver to launch a station that was full of WB programming? Beats the hell out of me. Denver had a show called Treasure Hunters or something that was also on the station, but needless to say, he didn't fit the overall demographic.

But, when you're a PR guy, you work with what you have. So, that's what I did. We arranged for some newpaper interviews and for a slew of radio station interviews. (Note: that might be the first time I've ever used slew in a sentence.)

So, since he's, well, Bob Denver, we arranged for a limo to take him and his manager/friend/lackey around to these stations. And, of course, I was to accompany him as the rep for the station.

What was my job? Basically to make sure he got the station call letters right. Let's face it, the radio stations wanted to talk to him about Gilligan, not about the TV thing. So they would give us one quick plug and then it was more focused on who was hotter, Ginger or Mary Ann.

So there I was, a young lad with a guy I had watched on TV a bazillion times. I wouldn't say I was star struck, but it was very cool to spend some time with the guy. Or so I thought it would be.

I'm not here to bash on someone who is no longer with us (he died a few years ago), but he wasn't the most friendly guy I've ever met.

I mean, he couldn't have been making too much for this appearance (I think he got five grand). And, I'm sure he's been asked the Ginger and Mary Ann question more than he ever wanted, but here he was nonetheless.

Did I mention he was a chain smoker? Yeah. I did. And, yeah, he was. I'm not sure I ever saw him for more than five minutes without a cigarette.

My favorite moments were when we'd walk into the studio and he'd be smoking away. The DJ would say, politely (I mean, again, this was Bob Denver) that the studio was a no smoking place.

"No problem," he'd say, but not put the cigarette out. He didn't care. He was Bob Denver, he'd do what he want.

Everyone wanted pictures and he did that. Again, I think he knew he had to. And he would put on that trademark goofy grin whenever the camera was snapped, but after that, "where's my cigarette."

In the studio, he was great. I mean, this guy could turn it on with the best of them. A song would be playing and he'd be talking to his manager, not stopping to talk as the DJ was going on air. The DJ would be introducing him, asking a question and he's still talking to his manager, until he instantly knew when to answer the question and devote a few seconds to it. Then the segment would end and he'd go right back to the conversation with his manager/lackey and, of course, his cigarette.

The other funny thing was that he brought one of the original Gilligan hats with him. And he'd wear it. Um, on the radio.

So, we rode around to five different radio stations and did the interviews. It was fine. He did his job, promoting the reason why he was there first and then answering all the questions about Gilligan after that.

Oh, and for the record, Gilligan was a Mary Ann man. At least he was that day.

Me? Well, it was cool to meet him and see how he operated, but, all in all, I could have done without the smoke. It was brutal, especially in the limo.

Oh well. It was Gilligan. The Little Buddy. But, on this day, I unfortunately saw more of Bob Denver than I did of Gilligan. And, I gotta tell you, I like Gilligan better.

Some day, kids, I'll even tell you about my Rachel Ray experience. But, as a preview, it wasn't a whole lot better than my Bob Denver experience.

What else? I got nothin'.

100 Things....About Me

Ok, nobody tagged me. I'm bringing this 100 thing on myself.

Afterall, new people are here. This will give you some idea about me.

Of course, it might also cause you to never return.

I'm willing to take that chance.

Alright...here we go:

1. I was born in the 60s. Barely.
2. I'm a Scorpio.
3. I'm the youngest of four. Or, as my mother says, "the baby."
4. I have a sister and twin brothers. One twin died unexpectedly (age 45) in June.
5. My dad died seven years ago, at 65.
6. My grandmother will be 101 in October.
7. My house was popular in the summer -- we had a pool.
8. I went to Catholic elementary school.
9. I'm now on the school board of said school.
10. I bounce from idea to idea alot -- expect this list to do the same.

11. I'd go back to high school and/or college in a heartbeat.
12. I had perfect attendance my senior year of high school (I know, geek.).
13. I didn't go to my junior prom.
14. I got a bunch of scholarships at graduation.
15. My 20th reunion is next year. I'm planning it.
16. I went to Marist College.
17. I graduated 15 years ago.
18. My first job was at the CIA -- The Culinary Institute of America.
19. I testified at a murder trial.
20. My first 'acting' gig? I was a bluebird in 3rd grade.

21. I'm in a movie. Yes, a real one. It's called Heavy. Stars Liv Tyler.
22. I worked the same summer job through high school and college.
23. I met my wife working at that job.
24. We got married in 1994. We were never going to have kids.
25. Now we have two -- one of each.
26. I now can't believe we didn't want kids.
27. I have three godchildren.
28. I have 3,495 songs on my iPod.
29. I've seen more than 50 bands/artists live in concert.
30. My first concert was KISS. I was 10.

31. We lived in Vermont for six years.
32. I've been a regular 'character' on two radio morning shows, one in Vermont; one in Connecticut.
33. Watch Montel? Maybe you've seen me. I was on his show last year.
34. I'm not sure I can write 100 things about myself.
35. I hate coffee.
36. I love orange juice.
37. I'm 100 percent Coke. Pepsi makes me sick.
38. My gallbladder came out when I was 22.
39. I was the first of my group of friends to get married.
40. I'm actually kind of shy.

41. I'm a lefty.
42. I didn't get my license until I was 19.
43. My first car? A 'vette. Chevette.
44. I'm a New England sports fan. Go Sox. Go Pats. Go Celts.
45. I'm pretty good at what I do.
46. But I sometimes wonder if I should have been a teacher.
47. I cried like a fool at my wedding. Tears of joy, of course.
48. I love fantasy baseball.
49. I can't for the life of me remember movie lines.
50. I can, however, remember song lyrics.

51. I'm a good writer.
52. I make up goofy songs all the time, particuarly to/for my kids.
53. I'm picky.
54. I'm a loyal friend.
55. I like burgers and steak medium rare.
56. I think celery is quite possibly the worst tasting thing. Ever.
57. I kind of like this blogging thing.
58. I've been to 15 major league ballparks.
59. I'm an aggressive driver.
60. I expect good customer service.

61. I will fight for principle.
62. Show Boat is my favorite musical.
63. I've worn glasses since I was one.
64. My right index finger is the same size as either of my two pinky fingers.
65. I will never drink Bacardi again. (Long story.)
66. I can't fix anything.
67. I do, however, write a great letter or note.
68. I miss playing golf as much as I used to.
69. I still don't know why I didn't have TiVo as soon as it came out.
70. I'm doing the best I can at this dad thing. :)

71. I was crying so much, I couldn't cut my son's embilical cord.
72. I did cut my daughter's, and, I gotta say, I felt a little guilty.
73. At times I wish I was a more patient parent.
74. Every now and then, I think about auditioning for some community theater.
75. I have a crush on Kristin Chenoweth.
76. I hate hockey.
77. I have a candy corn collection. (Don't worry, you'll learn about it soon.)
78. My most amazing concert experience? Being 20 feet from Bono's mic at a Boston U2 show.
79. I wish I didn't, but I bite my nails.
80. I want to go back to Ireland.

81. I already love the thought of taking my kids to Disney in a few years.
82. I once surpised my wife in Italy. She was chaperoning a trip. I just showed up.
83. I drove all summer without air conditioning in my car.
84. I do my best work under deadline.
85. I don't do incredibly well on ladders.
86. I wish I was 40 pounds lighter.
87. I sometimes wish I was better organized.
88. I don't use a straw.
89. My favorite dressing is thousand island.
90. I still have the baseball cards I collected as a kid.

91. I'm very picky when it comes to comedy. I don't think Will Ferrell is funny.
92. I do think Steven Wright is hilarious, however.
93. I want my kids to be as proud of me as I will be of them.
94. I'm probably into Thomas the Tank Engine as much as my three-year-old.
95. I once rode around all day in a limo with Bob Denver. (You'll hear about it sometime!)
96. I'm the in-game DJ for a professional sports team.
97. I usually only need five hours of sleep per night.
98. I pray that my nephew comes home safely from Iraq.
99. We go to church regularly.
100. I can't decide which remaining nugget to end with!

Phew!

What else? I definitely got nothin' now.

Be Careful What You Wish For....

Wow.

So this is how the other half of the blogging world lives?

I've got readers. At least I've got readers these last two days. So, thanks to Clink and Molly and those that have linked me in their recent posts. This is kind of cool.

But, yikes. Now the pressure is on.

I must deliver for you, my (hopefully) growing readership.

And I am going to do my best to fulfill your need of getting nothin'.

I'm not sure I'm ready to commit to the daily post, but I am going to work harder at being more on top of my came. Because, I mean, people are watching now!

Since you're probably learning about me, I'm going to work on one of those crazy "100 things about me" posts. Who knows how long that'll take, but that's what will come next.

Then, who knows where it goes from there.

But, wherever it goes, I hope you're with me.

Thanks for checking in. Really.

What else? I got nothin'.

Of Garbage Cans, Bobbleheads and Old Magazines

So I've discovered two cool elements to this blogging thing.

First, you learn a lot about your friends who also happen to blog. And, as a result, they learn a lot about you.

Secondly, you become BFs with others. BFs you ask? I'm making it up right now. Blog Friends. Therefore, from now on, I must be credited each time you use that. Well, anyway.

One of my BFs, Clink, is fun to read. Now she's younger than me. Dare I say it, she's a generation behind me. However, she wrote something recently that I felt like I just had to follow up with a post of my own.

You can read her post here.

My point in writing this is to help her understand her fiance's point of view. And, I'm not just helping Clink, I'm helping all like her. Or at least I'm trying to.

If you don't pop over to read Clink's take, and you should, the point is simple: she and her fiance will be merging assets. He has a Patriots garbage can. He wants it. She doesn't. More importantly, I think it's safe to say that she doesn't understand why he would still want it.

That's where I come in.

It is so much more than just a garbage can. And that might be the hardest thing for Clink or anyone in her situation to grasp.

I'm not even sure I can tell you what it is. But it is oh so much more than a garbage can. In terms of the Patriots, that garbage can represents a lifelong journey as a fan. We were down in the dumps (um, no pun intended, seriously) for so long. And now we are the pinnacle. That garbage can is a part of that. To get rid of it, well, who knows what would happen then.

That garbage can represents hours and hours of hope, loss, disappointment and excitement. I know, you think I'm kidding. But, go ahead. Watch a game with a Patriot fan. Tell me that's not true. But it's not just Patriot fans. It's any fan. Or, should I say, it's any guy fan.

We (um, guys) hold our teams in highest regard. We want to have symbols of those teams with us -- and that's anything from t-shirts, hats, mouse pads and, well, garbage cans.

The same goes for bobbleheads and even old issues of Sports Illustrated. I've got stacks of them. Have I ever gone back to read them? Well, no, who has the time? But, I will get back to them at some point. I mean, you don't expect me to remember every play from the 2004 World Series or one of the Patriots Super Bowls, do you? Yeah, I know. You do. But, just in case I don't, I've got Sports Illustrated there to help me remember the key moments -- and to have them forever in pictures.

It's like my favorite blanket. It's a Red Sox World Series blanket. Whenever the feet need a little covering while watching TV, out comes the Red Sox blanket -- not any of the others we have. Why use those when I can use the Red Sox blanket?

While I don't have a Patriots garbage can (attention, Santa), I do have a Red Sox garbage can. Now, of course I don't use it. Again, not the point. The point is that I have it and that I could use it if I wanted to. This Red Sox garbage can was used early on, but maybe my diryting it hindered the team's chances? Hey, you never know.

I mean, since I stopped using it as an actual garbage can, they go on and win the World Series. I'm not going to tempt the gods. That garbage can will never be used as a garbage can again.

But, regardless of what it is used for, it's mine. And I love it. My wife doesn't say anything about it. She doesn't say anything about the bobbleheads. Or even the old Sports Illustrated issues.

She doesn't say anything about that. And I don't say anything about her shoes.

And that's the beauty of marriage. Compromise.

What else? I got nothin'.

Aidanisms

Ok, so my three year old, Aidan, is all about talking and conversations now.

Renee and I can't have a conversation without him saying, "cuse me (he can't say the 'ex'), what are you talking about?"

I think it's annoying. But then I think, well, he is saying excuse me, so we've done something right.

Here are a couple of recent conversations I had with him -- of course centered on poop.

Now, I should say that poop is a big topic in our house because he's (finally) using the potty for that. Of course, it's the potty that was at my in-laws, so when he goes he says that he has to use Mimi's potty. I don't care whose potty it is, as long as he's going. And he is.

So I sit down for dinner last night and Renee says to Aidan, "Tell Daddy what vegetable you tried today."

"Pepper, daddy."

"Mmm. I love peppers. Wasn't it good?"

"No. I spit it out in the toilet and flushed it and its down in the septic tank now."

Dramatic pause.

"Might be stuck in a poop."

Yes, we were cracking up hysterically.

This morning at the breakfast table it starts like this:

"Have to go poop, daddy."

"Ok, bud, let's go upstairs to the potty."

As we walk upstairs he stops, turns to me and says:

"It might be a big mushy gushy one."

"Ok, well you let me know."

After he comes out, I say:

"So how'd things go?"

"Good," he said. "It looked like a boot."

What else? I got nothin'.

Am I the Greatest Boss or What?

First of all...stop the presses. Look at me doing two posts in one day.

Ok, now back to your regularly scheduled blogging.

So, Molly is out today. Not only does she work for me. But she works next to me. Yup, we share an office. A small office. An office in a building that was built in 1841. An office where the floors aren't exactly, um, level.

We had a great office. The best office in the building. But then we got a new boss. And he wanted that for his space. I honestly can't blame him, because it was great space. And Molly and I are team players and all that, so we moved.

But we weren't happy about it. "From the penthouse to the outhouse" was our saying.

But, again, I digress.

So she's out today. She had a pretty rough migraine yesterday (no doubt brought on by either the super rich and delicious brownies Anna made or the hot fudge sundae provided by Larisa). So, she left early. And called out today.

And that's fine with me. She works hard. She deserves a day. I get migraines, so I know how ridiculous they can be.

My general theory is, get your work done and I don't care what you do. Call in sick. Work on your blog. Whatever. Just get the work done. We have to get along. Why? Well, did I mention our office?

Anyway...what I've discovered in the last couple of hours is how good it can actually be when Molly's not here.

For example, I can put the AC on high cool and not worry if she's really cold. It's a male/female thing. I like the office cold. She probably doesn't like it as cold as me, but that's no problem today. It's freezin' in here and I like it!

I can also shake my leg all I want. No, I'm not a dog, but I'm probably a good candidate, really, for restless leg syndrome. I am constantly shaking a leg up and down. Only when you're in a building constructed in 1841 with crooked floors there can be issues.

Let's just say that whenever I shake my leg -- and in thise case, only my right leg -- Molly's entire desk shakes, but most particularly her monitor, causing her to have to say, "You're shaking" or "Foot" or somthing to get me to stop, or at the very least, to switch feet. Sometimes, I don't even know I'm doing it. I just do.

So, no worries about shaking today. I've been shaking up a storm in a very cold office. And you know what, it's been great.

But, that doesn't mean Molly isn't missed. She is. I mean, I swore I thought of her one time today. Probably when I was having another sundae and thinking, "I bet Molly isn't having one of these today!"

What else? I got nothin'.

This is Nuts

So guess what I had in my lunch today?

(Yes, Clink, it's a good thing to bring your lunch. Helps cut down on those take-out trips.)

Left over home made mac and cheese (a Renee specialty). Watermelon. Yogurt (Dannon Light Lemon Chiffon -- the only kind I'll eat. Not that I'm picky.). A bottle of water.

And, for dessert?

Dora cookies. Yup, you know, Dora, Dora, Dora the Explorer.

My son has watched Dora for more than a year now. And, I've got to say, it's good TV for kids, first in terms of the stories and secondly for its bilingual speech. Kind of cool how they do it.

And, as a father of two, I gotta tell you this, nobody is better at marketing than the folks at Dora. Walk through a supermarket and Dora is on everything. I couldn't believe it until I actually started paying attention to this stuff.

She, of course, is on cookies. Yummy almost animal cracker-like cookies. Delicious cookies, in fact. My favorite one is the cookie in the shape of Boots the Monkey. You don't know Boots the Monkey? What planet are you from? Boots is Dora's best friend. Because, who doesn't have a monkey as a best friend. First it was Eastwood, now it's Dora. Makes perfect sense to me.

Anyway, well, by now you want to know why I had a bag of Dora cookies for dessert today.

I had them because of five little words my wife discovered on the label:

May contain traces of tree nuts.

A month ago and that would have meant nothing. However, now that Aidan has been officially deemed allergic to tree nuts, we have to know this stuff. And that, apparently, means reading labels on things you wouldn't normally read.

I mean, nuts in Dora cookies? No, but possibly nuts used in the same factory or something like that.

But, let me tell you, once the doctor prescribes an Epi-Pen for you to walk around with wherever you are with your child, you're not into taking risks about this stuff -- even if he hasn't had any issues with Dora cookies before.

I'll spare you the story of what led us to discover Aidan was allergic, but the corresponding bloodwork did confirm the tree nut allergy, with an overwhelming allergic response to pistachios and cashews.

Our biggest concern was peanut butter. And, for the time when we waited for the results, Aidan couldn't have any type of nut whatsoever (per doc's orders). Now, he's back to his beloved peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Thank goodness for that!

So, some research for us to do -- learning more about this tree nut thing. He's been great about it, even asking the other night if watermellon has nuts in it.

But, in the meantime, or at least until the bag is finished, I'll be enjoying my fair share (and then some) of Dora cookies.

What else? I got nothin'.

Fifty and Fabulous...But I Want More...I Think!

OK. So, I'm fifty and fabulous.

No, I don't have an AARP card. Rather, yesterday was a highlight for me. How so? Let me explain.

Fifty of you came to read my blog yesterday!

Can I get a woo-hoo?! Excellent. Thank you.

Then, well, why am I depressed? Well, depressed is too strong a word.

I think I'm blog jealous.

Let me explain.

I started this for me. Really. But, since you started coming, I kind of like it. I want more of you to come and check things out. That's not such a bad thing, right?

My average viewers per day has climbed, believe it or not, all the way to 35 people a day! Can you stand it? I know, knock me down!

But, hey, 35 is more than 15.

But, 917 is also way more than 35. That's how many people came to read Molly the other day.

Now, don't get me wrong, Molly's good. Real good. I know. I hired her.

Still, that's a lot of people. But, she comments all over the place. And, the key, she's a she. And a young she. And those types of shes, it seems, are big bloggers. And I'm fine with that.

She has a defined audience. Which also helps.

Me? Scattered. Completely scattered.

One day I'm writing about my kids. One day about my brother. One day about music. One day about my flooded basement. One day about sports. I'm all over the place. And, just so you know, I will one day be writing about my day with Bob Denver! You can't escape it!

And, here's the thing, I can relate to the young twenty something bloggers, but are they going to relate to me on a regular basis? Not sure.

What about blogging daddies? Well, if there are some, I'm sure I can relate to that group, but will they relate to me on a regular basis? I don't know.

It's weird. I want to be read. I really do. But at the same time, I don't care about it. Does that make any sense at all?

I've always been one to have a very tight circle of friends. And I love that. Maybe that's what this is going to be for me, too. And that's OK. Because, after all, I did start this for me. Not for you.

And, even with my little circle of blog friends, it's been a cool way to learn more about them -- even learning more about those I talk to every day. But, this blogging thing has allowed us to share and learn more about each other than I could have imagined. And that's a cool thing.

So, while I, of course, would welcome more readers, I'm thrilled with what I have. I really am. I mean, here we are. I think for the moment that I'm just as happy going with quality over quantity.

What else? I got nothin'.

A Kid Update

I'm already becoming that parent. You know, the kind that no longer takes pictures of his kids.

That said, this picture was taken on my cellphone. The story is below.

I hate that parent. I need to stop being that parent. The camera hasn't been clicked in about 10 days, so I really don't have anything new to show you. Particularly of Erin -- who since her birth June 10 has sprouted into a real live little girl.

Of course, she wasn't happy today at her two-month appointment. Three shots. Two in one leg, one in another. I couldn't go because of work stuff, but Renee says she had a pretty good scream and then settled down. She's sleeping soundly tonight already, so it could have taken a lot out of her.

But, in terms of measurements, did I mention she's growing?

She was born at 8 pounds even and 22 inches long.

She's now just shy of 14 pounds and is two feet tall (well, long). That's the 95th percentile in both height and weight.

She smiles now, too, which is cool. Hopefully I can catch one of those on camera soon. She's definitely got her own little personality going, which is pretty cool. And, heck, ask Anna or Molly, but she almost rolled over last night, too.

Of course, they, and others, were only able to see her last night when she was out of her carrier and the stroller. You see, big brother Aidan is quite protective of his little sister. Her carrier has its own mini canopy on it. And, well, if she's in the carrier and you want to see her, good luck.

Step close and Aidan is watching you -- so much that he comes over and covers her face with the canopy, refusing to let go and putting his body in front of it, too, so you can't see her.

"He's just very protective," we say.

He loves her though. No doubt about that. He had "100 questions" for the doctor today when he went to her appointment. He wanted to know when she would talk, when she would crawl, when she would walk and when she would be ready to play with him.

We're working very hard on the sharing thing. It's a challenge. Probably the biggest one I think we've dealt with, including more stressful than the whole poop thing.

Until recently, he wouldn't poop on the toilet here. Only at my in-laws. But, the last couple days, he has done it here.

He even called me today to say, and this is a direct quote:

Daddy, I did a super duper big mushy gushy one on the potty! I flushed it down the toilet right into the septic tank. That's where it is!

Yup, that's my boy.

A big milestone was crossed Wednesday morning for him, too.

The dentist!

After having a rough morning, we almost didn't go to the appointment. I think Renee and I were both concerned how he would do, given his morning behavior.

But, he did great! His only challenge was sitting in the chair. Not sitting in it, per se, but trusting that he wasn't going to fall out when he put his head back and the hygenist adjusted the chair.

Once he got that down, no worries at all -- despite a little nervous look on his face. He opened super wide when he was asked and really enjoyed having his teeth polished -- mainly because he picked out the grape flavored toothpaste.

And, when he was done, he looked at the hygenist and said, "Where are the prizes?"

Pictures soon. I promise!

What else? I got nothin'.

For Tim

For the newcomers to this blog, my brother, Tim, died unexpectedly June 16.

This blog was my emotional release during that time. If you want, take a look back in the archives and learn more about my brother and the emotional time it was for me and the rest of my family.

One of the revelations of the entire process was learning about the side of Tim I didn't know. His work side. It was amazing to hear all the stories from his colleagues about his professionalism, his sense of humor and his overall performance.

I knew he worked in wire and cable, but I didn't know much more -- until today. My family and I went to his workplace for a ceremony this morning.

In the picture above, you'll see a gorgeous red maple they planted in his memory. There's also a stone there, too, with a nice tribute to him.

This manufacturing plant basically stopped for 10 minutes this morning while folks came out to pay a tribute to my brother. One of his colleagues said a few words, as did my mom and me. We had a moment of silence in his honor, too.

Very simple. Very meaningful.

Then, we got a tour of the plant. And, while I still don't know exactly what he did, I can say proudly that he ran this operation of more than 100 people and it was impressive to see. And the guy who showed us around was saying how Tim knew everything about all of these machines -- more than I could count doing things I've never seen before. That he knew everyone by name and that he was constantly having fun -- all while being productive.

We heard more stories about him from the people that worked for him. All funny. All touching. All to be remembered. And for that I am thankful.

Perhaps the best comment I've received yet came from another colleague. The plant makes all sort of wire, including fiber optic cable and other stuff that gets used for computer networks and such. So, as I sit here at my desk, it's possible that the wire connecting my computer to our network could have been made by my brother's plant.

With that in mind, his colleague asked me if I enjoyed my visit to the plant.

"I enjoyed it immensely, but I still don't understand it," I joked.

"Just think of your brother every time you turn on your computer," she said.

So simple. So hokey. But, you know what, incredibly comforting.

Lucky 13

There's nothing superstitious about the number 13 for me. Especially this year.

The above picture was taken 13 years ago -- August 6, 1994. The day I became the luckiest man in the world. Yeah, I said it. The world.

As I sit here and type this, I can't even fathom all that has gone on in those 13 years. All I know is I couldn't have made it on my own. And, fortunately, I didn't have to. Renee has been by my side. Each step of the way.

We've created life. We've endured death. We've started new jobs. We've built a house. We've moved from one state to another. From the happiest moment to the hardest, it's only been one way -- together.

Can't really ask for more than that.

My only hope today? That she believes I've lived up to my end of the deal as much as she's lived up to hers. I certainly have tried. But, I gotta tell you, she sets a mean example.

She has seen me at my best -- and at my worst. She has put up with so much -- and then some. And I'll never be able to express how appreciative I am.

She's an unbelievable teacher.

She's an amazing mother.

She's an incredible wife.

But, mostly, she's a fabulous friend.

Happy 13th Anniversary, Renee.

Love you. Mega.

What else? I got nothin'.

That's What I Like About....Me

Well, I've been tagged again. Molly did it. Only this time she wants me to write about 10 things I like about myself. Hmmm. Interesting.

Ok, let's see what we can come up with here -- in no particular order:

1. I'm a great dad. Honestly, better than I thought I'd be. I've got work to do, but for a guy who didn't want anything to do with kids, I think I'm doing pretty well. I'm not nearly as good as the mother of my children (who happens to be my wife!), but I'm trying hard. I really am. I can, and someday I will, spend post after post on how cool it is to be a dad.

2. I'm a great husband. Just ask Renee. She'll tell you! Or at least I hope she will. We're celebrating 13 years next week. That just blows me away. It really does. The key? We were friends first. Great friends. And, you know what? We still are.

3. I'm a good son. Ask my mom for her feelings, but I think she'd agree. At least I hope she would! Yeah, she would. Right?! Never caused my parents any trouble -- or at least none that they let on about. They raised me in such away that I strived to succeed by not disappointing them. And I don't mean that in any negative way. Basically, if I worked to my capacity, they would never be disappointed, regardless of the result. I hope I can instill that into my kids.

4. I'm a good writer. Well, you're here, aren't you? Got the writing gene from my mom and couldn't be happier about it. I believe in the thank you note, a well-written letter, and I'll spend an hour working on the same paragraph, just to make sure I said it in the best possible way. This paragraph alone took two hours. :)

5. I'm good at my job. I'm a publicist. I'm a news junky, which helps in the job because I understand what the media thinks is and isn't important. I've gotten great results wherever I've been, and I'm in a great position now, despite all the griping I do. It really is a good gig.

6. I'm a great friend. I've never been one to have a large circle of friends. I prefer a smaller tight-knit style group. And I've got that. Amazing friends. And, I believe they would say the same about me. I can't say it any simpler than it's about being there for each other. For anything. Plain and simple. No questions asked. My friends do that for me. I do it for them.

7. I'm funny. Well, I try to be. Not laugh-out-loud funny. More subtle, dry wit funny. I seem to be able to make people laugh and smile -- so I'm going with it.

8. I'm involved. Probably too much, but, oh well. I'm getting ready to plan my 20th high school reunion. I'm on the school board of my Catholic elementary school. I'm the head of my church's Parish Council. And I'm sure there's one or two more that I can't think of. Basically, it's about giving back. I've taken a lot....now it's time to give back. And that's what I try to do.

9. I'm a sensitive sap. I can't help it. I just am.

10. I've got a great ass. I mean, come on, have you seen it?! :)

There you have it. Ten, er, nine and a half things I like about myself!

Thanks for listening.