<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13281854</id><updated>2012-02-16T19:29:18.320-07:00</updated><category term='Reviews'/><category term='Surveys'/><category term='Friday&apos;s Feasts'/><category term='Boys'/><category term='Video'/><category term='Jokes'/><title type='text'>A Dad's View</title><subtitle type='html'>A journey of a fat guy to fitness</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Jon</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>180</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13281854.post-3562526912329294363</id><published>2008-08-11T16:07:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-08-11T16:13:19.843-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Week 3: Muscle is heavier than fat?</title><content type='html'>I don't know what to say. I had a lot of energy for this morning's session. I was actually craving exercise yesterday. I rocked the crunches and jogged farther than I thought I could. But when I came home for my weekly weigh-in, I was disappointed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;August 11: 237 - up another pound&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know I wasn't 100% good with the diet this week. Especially the Wendy's Baconator on the weekend but I was expecting a drop. I need some encouragement and I will have to be hard on myself this week. I need to see myself below 230 by the end of the 4 weeks or I will be disappointed. So, 14 more days to lose 7 pounds. I know I can do it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13281854-3562526912329294363?l=theirfather.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/feeds/3562526912329294363/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13281854&amp;postID=3562526912329294363' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/3562526912329294363'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/3562526912329294363'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/2008/08/week-3-muscle-is-heavier-than-fat.html' title='Week 3: Muscle is heavier than fat?'/><author><name>Jon</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13281854.post-5900502117643540894</id><published>2008-08-09T18:28:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-08-09T18:36:40.308-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 4 and 5: Back into it.</title><content type='html'>Thursday my leg was feeling better and I was able to keep up better. We did a lot more work with the weights and I love that. It's something I can actually do at least as good as the girls. Cardio not so much but I can lift.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can tell already that I'm getting stronger. My core/abs workouts don't leave me in a sweaty heap on the grass anymore and I can jog farther than before. Halfway through and I can tell the changes already. We'll see what the next two weeks bring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know if I'll sign up again. The returning student rate is a little better. It works out to $7.50/hr but that's still a lot of money we don't have right now. Maybe I'll just start going out for a jog in the mornings by myself. I know I won't be able to push myself as hard as the trainer does but some physical activity is better than nothing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13281854-5900502117643540894?l=theirfather.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/feeds/5900502117643540894/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13281854&amp;postID=5900502117643540894' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/5900502117643540894'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/5900502117643540894'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/2008/08/day-4-and-5-back-into-it.html' title='Day 4 and 5: Back into it.'/><author><name>Jon</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13281854.post-7508841526385125989</id><published>2008-08-09T18:19:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-08-09T18:28:46.696-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 3: Sick</title><content type='html'>Wednesday I woke up early with my two-year old. He had fallen asleep before supper and was up at 4:30 and wouldn't go back to sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was feeling ill - I think we had a flu going around the house and I decided to skip workout. I did however play a bunch of Wii with the boys, including about 6 boxing matches which got a good sweat going. So I guess a little exercise is better than nothing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13281854-7508841526385125989?l=theirfather.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/feeds/7508841526385125989/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13281854&amp;postID=7508841526385125989' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/7508841526385125989'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/7508841526385125989'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/2008/08/day-3-sick.html' title='Day 3: Sick'/><author><name>Jon</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13281854.post-8251970532102404190</id><published>2008-08-07T20:50:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-08-07T20:57:50.526-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 2: OUCH!</title><content type='html'>Yes, I'm posting these late. I tried to figure out how to change the date in Blogger but it's been so long since I posted here, things have changed and I can't remember. So just pretend this was from Tuesday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today we had a new guy in the class. This young, buff stud is in the evening class but since it's only 3 days a week, he will be joining us on Tuesdays and Thursdays. The trainer took this opportunity to push us hard to try to impress the muscleman.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We started out with running and my left calf started hurting right away. It felt like somebody had punched me in the leg. I toughed through it but as we were running up the hill - BACKWARDS! - my quad started cramping up too. So my left leg was fighting me for most of the hour and I couldn't stretch it out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was exhausted and in pain on the way back to the van. The trainer admitted that he was trying to put on a good show for the new guy and reassured me that I needn't try to keep up. Just challenge myself to my own levels.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13281854-8251970532102404190?l=theirfather.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/feeds/8251970532102404190/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13281854&amp;postID=8251970532102404190' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/8251970532102404190'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/8251970532102404190'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/2008/08/day-2-ouch.html' title='Day 2: OUCH!'/><author><name>Jon</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13281854.post-4685393765206110199</id><published>2008-08-07T20:41:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-08-07T20:49:21.463-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Week 2: Day One</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Aug 4: 236 and lucky&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I gained a pound back. Or so. The scale is getting tired and the needle kinda wiggles so I'm thinking I'm up a bit from a week ago. But I'm lucky that's it. I haven't been eating so well. A few slurpees and some takeout. But I'm feeling better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First day of working out and I'm doing fine. I feel stronger, healthier, and able to jog a little further. Actually, I don't notice my body jiggling as much when I jog now so that's a good thing. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got a lot of sleep before going out today. Last night I went to bed around 10, so I got like 2 hours more sleep than last week. I could tell in my energy levels. Here's hoping this week is better.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13281854-4685393765206110199?l=theirfather.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/feeds/4685393765206110199/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13281854&amp;postID=4685393765206110199' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/4685393765206110199'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/4685393765206110199'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/2008/08/week-2-day-one.html' title='Week 2: Day One'/><author><name>Jon</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13281854.post-6331635656194341465</id><published>2008-08-01T22:03:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-08-01T22:11:22.832-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 4 and 5: So tired</title><content type='html'>I was surviving on about 5 hours of sleep a night this week and I felt it today. I just had no energy. We did a lot of cardio and a lot of pushups but I made it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5 days in a row of getting up at 5am and working my body to its limits. I know I could have done more if I had been getting more sleep and since I'm off at 9 next week, I can test my theory.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, this message is short but good news. I'm feeling aching and sore and tired but each day is getting better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll weigh myself on Monday morning. Please be good to me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13281854-6331635656194341465?l=theirfather.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/feeds/6331635656194341465/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13281854&amp;postID=6331635656194341465' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/6331635656194341465'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/6331635656194341465'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/2008/08/day-4-and-5-so-tired.html' title='Day 4 and 5: So tired'/><author><name>Jon</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13281854.post-7483767687530633609</id><published>2008-07-30T22:28:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-07-30T22:46:47.460-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Day Three: Hitting the Weights</title><content type='html'>Today was the first day we used our dumbbells. &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;(Wow that word looks weird with two Bs but the spell checker insists so we'll go with it.)&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got to the park at about 5:55 and as other students showed up, we kinda stood around and compared our sorenesses. It was nice to know I am not the only one who is aching. Even the young ones who look like thy are in fine shape were saying they had stiff and sore muscles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Around 6:05 the trainer still hadn't shown up so we went for a quick jog to warm up. He came speeding into the parking lot at about 6:10. He had traffic problems and got lost trying to go around them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We did some more work on the hill and were using the weights to work on our shoulders. This was something I could do. I may not be able to do 100 sit-ups or run all that fast or far, but I'm used to carrying around extra weight. Several times per night in fact, I carry a 35-50 lb sleeping child from our bed back to his own bed, usually to the top bunk. So, I can lift stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm actually not even feeling any pain in my shoulders tonight. And my quads have partly recovered from the torture I put them through on Monday. I can make it down 1.5 flights of stairs without crying now. By the end of the week, I should be ready to do squats and lunges again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other big part of the day was wind sprints in a soccer field that needed to be cut. It was wet and cloudy and we were running in long grass. The mosquitoes were terrible. But then again, the slapping could have been part of the workout. I was feeling pretty good today and I had a short nap in the morning so I was doing pretty good until mid-afternoon when I was to start work. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was pooped. I had a large hot chocolate with a couple espresso shots from my Tassimo. That seemed to be just right cause now I'm 15 minutes from being able to go to bed and I'm starting to yawn. And no TV tonight. Just straight to bed for a solid 6 hours in a row. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My eating wasn't as good today. We had Wendy's for lunch and leftover tacos for supper so I probably used up my 3000+ expended calories for the day. Tomorrow will be better.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13281854-7483767687530633609?l=theirfather.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/feeds/7483767687530633609/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13281854&amp;postID=7483767687530633609' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/7483767687530633609'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/7483767687530633609'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/2008/07/day-three-hitting-weights.html' title='Day Three: Hitting the Weights'/><author><name>Jon</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13281854.post-291072217655536484</id><published>2008-07-29T22:28:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-07-29T22:47:48.956-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Day Two: Sleepy</title><content type='html'>Today I was still sore in the morning so I took a few ibuprofen and tried to stretch. My quads were still stiff and fighting me as I went down the stairs. I had a small banana for breakfast - trying to get a little energy but not throw up like yesterday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told the trainer my legs were sore and he said that was normal. We'd try to limit the workouts on the legs today. I guess limiting meant step-ups onto picnic benches and climbing a huge hill - twice. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Aside: This huge hill and I have some history. Back almost 20 years ago I came into Calgary with my Dad and uncle to take hang gliding lessons. I was maybe 11 or 12 so I didn't have the shoulders to support the glider frame but I got to experience it a little bit. The cool thing is that this is the hill we flew off. There was no playground or pool or mosque or paved paths or supermarkets. Just a hill off at the edge of the city by the airport the perfect height for teaching hang gliding.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My stamina held up better today. We ended both days doing core workout. Yesterday I was collapsed on my mat on the grass by the time we were done. Today I was able to get up and walk back to the van.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got home and kept my breakfast down. The boys all got up as I came in so I played some Wii with them and stayed up pretty much all day. I had a 30 minute nap with the 2 year old but that's it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been working till 11:00pm and then getting up at 5:00. I was also planning on watching a little tv I taped tonight but I'm not sure I'll make it. I have 20 minutes left in my shift and I'm exhausted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My legs are burning when I go up and down the stairs, by shoulders and lats are aching and my lower back is a little stiff. I wish I had time to go see my chiropractor but the leg lifts I did today popped a lot back into place. I'd have a bath before I go to bed but I'm scared I'd fall asleep. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I checked out my basal metabolic rate online today. Apparently due to my size and age, my body uses nearly 2200 calories a day doing absolutely nothing - just breathing and sleeping. That's 900 more than Amber. The trainer said a big guy can expect to burn around 500 calories an hour at Boot Camp. So, with a little more walking, chasing the kids, and stumbling up the stairs, I am burning more than 3000 calories a day. I can't eat that much so I hope to see another good size drop when I weigh myself again next Monday.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13281854-291072217655536484?l=theirfather.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/feeds/291072217655536484/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13281854&amp;postID=291072217655536484' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/291072217655536484'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/291072217655536484'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/2008/07/day-two-sleepy.html' title='Day Two: Sleepy'/><author><name>Jon</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13281854.post-4571509404930678211</id><published>2008-07-28T21:53:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-07-28T22:11:51.566-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Day One: OMG!</title><content type='html'>I was scared I'd sleep in this morning and get in trouble for being late. My class starts at 6am so I set the alarm for 5 and was up a little before. I got dressed and had some breakfast. I knew I didn't want anything heavy so I went with a smoothie. Not a good day to try something new but I tried a banana-peanut butter-chocolate-raspberry thing. Tasted okay and woke me up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got to the park where we were meeting on time (I should - it's 3 minutes from our house) and met the trainer and the other students. 5 young ladies - 4 of whom were significantly more fit than me. The trainer was a guy so that was a bonus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We started with a fitness test and measurements. I'm not going to subject anyone who stumbles across this to seeing my actual measurements but suffice it to say, I'm apparently built like a barrel. Chest, abdomen, hips, doesn't matter. All pretty much the same. I was feeling okay about the fitness test at first. Pushups and situps were better than I expected. Squats made my knees feel like they were going to pop. But then came the 1km run. I think the trainer got confused and took us on a 10km run because 1 km isn't anywhere near that far. I jogged the first bit and then alternated walking and jogging to the end. I couldn't be last so I made a push at the end and tied the big girl for last place. 9:40. I don't know what I expected but that isn't it. If I could keep that same pace for a marathon I would finish in about 7 hours. The would have packed up the finish line and all gone for supper by the time I got there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I couldn't keep that pace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I collapsed in a heap on the grass. Then we did some squats and lunges and then sprints and pushups and ending with core workout. I was sweating like crazy and thought I couldn't make it. I was the most tired I'd ever been.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I stumbled to my van and barely had the strength to open the door and climb inside. I got home and came upstairs to have a shower. I threw up my smoothie and went to bed and slept for about 2 hours. My lovely wife handled the kids while I did this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm feeling better tonight. My quads are burning going up and down the stairs but that's the only real pain. I'll have a warm shower and try to stretch them out before collapsing into bed for a few hours tonight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It can only get better. Either that or I'll be the first person to die at Survivor Boot Camp.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13281854-4571509404930678211?l=theirfather.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/feeds/4571509404930678211/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13281854&amp;postID=4571509404930678211' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/4571509404930678211'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/4571509404930678211'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/2008/07/day-one-omg.html' title='Day One: OMG!'/><author><name>Jon</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13281854.post-5681604633470502752</id><published>2008-07-28T18:43:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-07-28T18:57:39.206-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Jumping out of a Fat-Guy Airplane</title><content type='html'>Here's the background. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm huge. I've been gradually been getting huger since high school and have been in denial but I can't just keep graduating to new pants sizes. Not cool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2 weeks ago Amber found this thing called Survivor Boot Camp. Someone on one of her forums was raving about it. It's a 4 week intensive fitness training course supposed to kick your butt into shape. I decided to spend some of our savings and go for it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This idea was scary. Terrifyingly exciting. I think the phrase I used that night was "like jumping out of a fat guy airplane." We found a 10 day meal plan that was on the website and bought a bunch of groceries.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;July 18: 241 lbs and scared&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was 10 days before Boot Camp started and I tried the menu and found out that I snack all day. When I was conscious of what I was eating I saw my hand reaching for candy or cookies or other not-healthy choices. Some of the food was good. I love turkey bacon and egg-white omelettes are much better than I expected. The smoothies with protein powder are wonderful. I love trying new fruit combinations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, I tried cottage cheese and while it wasn't as bad as I remember, I couldn't eat it like 5 times a week the way it was suggesting. So, after Day 4 of the "menu" (I refused to call it a diet), I decided to go it alone and just drink lots of water, limit my sugar (oh slurpees how I miss you) and keep having the protein shake each day to curb my appetite. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today was the first day of boot camp and I'll write about it in another entry but for the results of the experiment:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;July 28: 235 lbs and shocked&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I lost 6 pounds in 10 days. But before I get all proud of myself, let's see how the first day of training went. :(&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13281854-5681604633470502752?l=theirfather.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/feeds/5681604633470502752/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13281854&amp;postID=5681604633470502752' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/5681604633470502752'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/5681604633470502752'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/2008/07/jumping-out-of-fat-guy-airplane.html' title='Jumping out of a Fat-Guy Airplane'/><author><name>Jon</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13281854.post-227439820487857091</id><published>2007-01-01T15:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-01-01T16:13:22.375-07:00</updated><title type='text'>New home</title><content type='html'>Amber and I have decided to combine our wildly popular blogs into one family webpage. This will be my last View.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Check us out at &lt;a href="http://www.monstercookies.ca"&gt;http://www.monstercookies.ca&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks for reading and I'll see you on the other side.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13281854-227439820487857091?l=theirfather.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/feeds/227439820487857091/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13281854&amp;postID=227439820487857091' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/227439820487857091'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/227439820487857091'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/2007/01/new-home.html' title='New home'/><author><name>Jon</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13281854.post-7605367827129189106</id><published>2006-12-29T08:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-12-29T09:13:19.838-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Job market</title><content type='html'>Calgary has such a "labour shortage" right now that nearly every place is hiring. We need people in fields from "Sandwich Artist" to nurse. We were out driving yesterday and I saw Help Wanted signs in 5 consecutive windows - and that was the entire mini-mall. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been wondering about this for over a year now. How can a city of this size not be able to sustain itself? What are the 1,000,000 people doing? Even in Nakusp, you had someone to run the restaurant, someone to work at the gas station, doctors, mailmen, garbagemen. It was so balanced that I couldn't find a job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A new point in this discussion occurred to me yesterday. I was dropping off bottles and cans at the recyclers. There were 8-10 men between my age and my dad's who were sorting through everyone's sticky, stinky bags of returnables. I guess I had always assumed that these guys weren't qualified to do anything else. Most of them looked like new immigrants and probably didn't speak English. This bigotted view came crashing down on me when I was served by a guy in his mid thirties. He was in good physical condition, spoke perfect English, was shaven and dressed nicely. And he was sorting through my bag of garbage with his bare hands to count my $4.95 worth of coke cans.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After I left, I began wondering about this guy. Is he married? Does he have boys like  I do? Does he like his job? Does he know there are probably hundreds of jobs as far from or closer to his home that don't leave him smelling like beer bottles at the end of the day? Would he hate talking on the phone all day as much as I would doing his job? How much money could he possibly be making? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know what to do about this. I can't offer him a job. I can't bring him applications to work at 7-11 or A&amp;W. I don't have any more cans so I can't even really come back and talk to him about it. Maybe I'll take my inspiration from a poem I learned 25 years ago.&lt;br /&gt;----------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;A Problem&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;by Marchette Chute&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My zipper is stuck.&lt;br /&gt;Now what shall I do?&lt;br /&gt;Give it a tug,&lt;br /&gt;And pull it in two?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Give it a jerk?&lt;br /&gt;And then it will jam.&lt;br /&gt;I think I'll just sit here&lt;br /&gt;The way that I am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll be thankful for my job and my family. I know there's more I could and probably should do but recognizing my own blessings is the first step.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13281854-7605367827129189106?l=theirfather.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/feeds/7605367827129189106/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13281854&amp;postID=7605367827129189106' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/7605367827129189106'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/7605367827129189106'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/2006/12/job-market.html' title='Job market'/><author><name>Jon</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13281854.post-7192406534860256748</id><published>2006-12-19T19:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-12-19T19:31:49.946-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Boys'/><title type='text'>Bright Boy</title><content type='html'>It's been a while since I wrote a dad's view on parenting so without further ado...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Time for a Cute Kid Story&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Andrew is getting so smart. It's cute when he figures things out. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recently he's started "talking" more. He tries sounds out and when he gets something that works he will repeat it over and over. This week his word is "bud'n". He uses this when he's reaching for anything with buttons. Remotes, phones, my PDA. He's a gadget guy just like his brothers and his parents.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other cool thing he did today was when I was leaving for work. He was sitting in his high chair eating lunch and I waved and said, "Goodbye!" He smiled and just ignored me. I was a little sad because he always waves at the door. I went to say good bye to the boys and came back to him. When he saw me putting my coat on, he smiled and waved. He had figured out that I wasn't really leaving yet because I didn't have my coat on. What a logic jump for a 10-month old kid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm so looking forward to all the steps they will take over the next year.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13281854-7192406534860256748?l=theirfather.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/feeds/7192406534860256748/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13281854&amp;postID=7192406534860256748' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/7192406534860256748'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/7192406534860256748'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/2006/12/bright-boy.html' title='Bright Boy'/><author><name>Jon</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13281854.post-2743305179361782427</id><published>2006-12-17T16:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-12-19T08:52:48.313-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Weird kids shows</title><content type='html'>Amber and I are all about sharing content with you these days. It makes blogging so much easier. We just link to something, give you a few comments and then you can have a wonderful reading experience. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I have a very interesting list for you. It's by Matt Dinniman, author of "&lt;a href="http://shiveredsky.blogspot.com/index.html" target="_blank"&gt;Fireflies in the Cloud&lt;/a&gt;". He has written his list of "&lt;a href="http://shiveredsky.blogspot.com/2006/05/top-ten-weirdest-creepiest-freakiest.html"  target="_blank"&gt;The Top Ten Weirdest, Creepiest, Freakiest Children's Television Shows&lt;/a&gt;".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stop by and read it. I agree with a lot of the opinions, but in interest of not totally plagiarising another column, I will add my Top 3 Honorable Mentions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. &lt;a href="http://www.thewiggles.com.au/ca/home/" target="_blank"&gt;The Wiggles&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_MV0djmEoUcU/RYcBBFVaXUI/AAAAAAAAABQ/74tIVfK52u4/s1600-h/wiggles.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_MV0djmEoUcU/RYcBBFVaXUI/AAAAAAAAABQ/74tIVfK52u4/s200/wiggles.gif" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5009974228596448578" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know that a zillion kids love these guys. I know they have recently lost a member. It's not so much the concerts that look like they're an airband or the the big dinosaur, or even the gay pirate Cap'n Feathersword. The thing I find the creepiest is that they are the richest, highest-grossing entertainers in Australia. Even bigger than Nicole Kidman, AC/DC, or Steve Irwin.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Land O' Hands&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_MV0djmEoUcU/RYcARlVaXTI/AAAAAAAAABI/d6r5N8qP3sk/s1600-h/landhands.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_MV0djmEoUcU/RYcARlVaXTI/AAAAAAAAABI/d6r5N8qP3sk/s200/landhands.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5009973412552662322" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is &lt;a href="http://www.telefilm.gc.ca/data/production/prod_149.asp?lang=en&amp;cat=tv&amp;g=chl&amp;y=2001" target="_blank"&gt;Telefilm Canada's&lt;/a&gt; spiel about this series:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;A pre-school puppet series set in the fanciful world of pre-historic Alberta, Land O’ Hands follows the adventures of a young boy named Bungle and his family of cave people. Bungle’s natural curiosity often leads him into trouble. With the help of his little sister, Pubba, and his best friend, Garby, Bungle always sets things right and learns more about himself and his place in the big world of the jungle.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sounds ok I guess, but the creepy part is that nearly the whole show - sets, characters, trees are made of painted human hands. It freaks me out. It looks low budget and reminds me of a kindergarten project.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. &lt;a href="http://www.nickjr.com/shows/max_ruby/index.jhtml"&gt;Max and Ruby&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_MV0djmEoUcU/RYcftlVaXWI/AAAAAAAAABs/vXKSh6LLjPc/s1600-h/maxruby.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_MV0djmEoUcU/RYcftlVaXWI/AAAAAAAAABs/vXKSh6LLjPc/s200/maxruby.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5010007978449460578" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the most disturbing kids show on TV for two reasons.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A) It's about a little 2-year old bunny and his 8ish-year old sister. Max is incredibly whiny and speaks in one word sentences like, "Cars!" or "Chocolate!" This is especially annoying and creepy because this speech pattern ends up being imitated by the two to four-year olds that have watched it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;B) There are no parents. The big sister tucks him in, makes him food, disciplines him, takes him on outings - all while trying to maintain her normal child life of going to school and being a Bunny Scout or something. Very responsible kid but what happened to the parents??&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13281854-2743305179361782427?l=theirfather.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/feeds/2743305179361782427/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13281854&amp;postID=2743305179361782427' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/2743305179361782427'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/2743305179361782427'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/2006/12/weird-kids-shows.html' title='Weird kids shows'/><author><name>Jon</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_MV0djmEoUcU/RYcBBFVaXUI/AAAAAAAAABQ/74tIVfK52u4/s72-c/wiggles.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13281854.post-9072275263810359713</id><published>2006-12-16T13:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-12-16T16:02:32.636-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Decisions of a 18 year old</title><content type='html'>A while ago I read an article about life choices and how they affect us. It told the story of an old man on his death bed looking back over his life. He regretted the path he had gone down and the career he had chosen. He said, "I cannot believe I let my life be directed by the choices of an 18-year old."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This had stuck with me for the last few weeks. I've wanted to write about it but I have only now started to digest it to the point where I can understand how it applies to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel that from 1995-2005, I was making all my life choices based on an initial decision I made when I was 18. I decided then that I wanted to be a music pastor. My life to that point seemed to point in that direction and I had support and a career plan laid out before me. For the next ten years, whenever a fork came in my life, I consciously or subconsciously choose the road that would get me closer to full time ministry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even when I wasn't working in a church, I was making connections at the music store, staying active on email lists and forums, volunteering, all in a hope that it would eventually lead to this job that 1995-Me wanted. I was building a resume but meanwhile, I was ignoring other interests and gifts I had. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It took a move to middle of nowhere and several emergency room visits to show me the big picture. It was like I zoomed out about 5 levels on Google Maps and now I could see my path. I could also see all the other paths in front of me. I made a decision to go in another direction, down a path I wouldn't have looked at before because it led away from music pastoring. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That was just over a year ago and I have to say I can't remember being this happy before. Not when I was working full-time in Winnipeg, not when I was at school. I haven't looked at the church job sites for over 12 months. I've unsubscribed from the email lists. I can visit another church without thinking, "If I was the music pastor here, I would change...." People ask me if I'm looking for a new position, if I'm applying, and I say something like, "Not right now. We're in a season of refreshment and renewal. God will lead us back in His time." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Honestly though, I don't see that happening. This last year I have been able to look at my gifts, abilities, weaknesses, and passions. I have realized that 18-year old with stars in his eyes was encouraged to take a certain path. I didn't know how to get off it, so I ran my hardest down it. I'm glad I was able to make the jump when I did and not when I am 75 years old and unable to change. I'm not saying that the path I'm on now is the right one for me forever, but now that I know how to zoom out and see the other paths, I think I won't be as scared to change.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13281854-9072275263810359713?l=theirfather.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/feeds/9072275263810359713/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13281854&amp;postID=9072275263810359713' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/9072275263810359713'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/9072275263810359713'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/2006/11/decisions-of-18-year-old.html' title='Decisions of a 18 year old'/><author><name>Jon</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13281854.post-6849446818390530933</id><published>2006-12-13T22:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-12-13T22:52:24.123-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Reviews'/><title type='text'>Superman II - Take Two</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_MV0djmEoUcU/RYDmcK3LeGI/AAAAAAAAAAk/TLr3ENqjQEM/s1600-h/sup_2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_MV0djmEoUcU/RYDmcK3LeGI/AAAAAAAAAAk/TLr3ENqjQEM/s320/sup_2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5008256157262510178" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;30 years ago, when I was but a bump in a wedding dress, Richard Donner was filming a two-part &lt;I&gt;Superman&lt;/i&gt; movie series. Like Peter Jackson of &lt;I&gt;The Lord of the Rings&lt;/i&gt; fame, Donner was filming his movies concurrently. Once he had finished the first movie and sent it away for post-production, the producers put a stop to his filming so they could concentrate on getting the first movie out on time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In a move that would make an interesting movie in its own right, producers Alexander and Ilya Salkind took the 75% completed sequel and had one of their uncredited producers film the rest of the movie. The discarded much of Donner's original footage and storyline and Richard Lester was credited for directing the entire movie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recently, Warner Bros has released, &lt;i&gt;Superman II - The Richard Donner Cut&lt;/i&gt;. It has over 45 minutes of brand new footage that was recovered from a damp warehouse. The movie has a very different feel and a totally different ending.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was overjoyed to see that the whole sequence with Lois Lane in Paris was cut since that was one of my least favorite part of the original cut. The new opening fits much more clearly with the first movie now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the most interesting parts is a scene that was actually never filmed. It was a scene that Donner saw as so crucial to the series that he used it as the screen test scenes. They have taken the actual screen test footage of Kidder and Reeve and inserted it into the movie. It takes place in a very small set and the costuming isn't up to the same level as the rest of the movie but it is a very interesting scene. It is the moment when Clark finally admits to Lois his secret. I wasn't as happy with this scene, not only because the quality is so low, but because it replaced one of my favorite scenes - the fireplace reveal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is very obvious that Donner was only able to shoot about 75% of the film. He reluctantly used a few of Lester's scenes to fill in the story and I think that makes for a weak plot at times. Many of the scenes, including the climax at the Fortress of Solitude and the Niagara Falls sequences are rushed and some crucial moments are&lt;br /&gt;missing. Donner's ego wouldn't let him use barely any of the footage that this usurper filmed and unfortunately, the end product suffers. I agree that the movie would have been much better if he had finished everything he wanted to do, but this new cut is still a very good movie. Definitely worth taking a look at.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13281854-6849446818390530933?l=theirfather.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/feeds/6849446818390530933/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13281854&amp;postID=6849446818390530933' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/6849446818390530933'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/6849446818390530933'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/2006/12/superman-ii-take-two.html' title='Superman II - Take Two'/><author><name>Jon</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_MV0djmEoUcU/RYDmcK3LeGI/AAAAAAAAAAk/TLr3ENqjQEM/s72-c/sup_2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13281854.post-1683241525770420685</id><published>2006-12-12T08:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-12-12T08:29:09.083-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmas Stuff</title><content type='html'>Welcome to the Christmas edition of getting to know your friends. Okay, here's what you're supposed to do, and try not to be a SCROOGE!!! Just copy this entire post and paste into your own blog. Change all the answers so that they apply to you. 'Tis the Season to be NICE!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Wrapping paper or gift bags? Bag it. When we were kids we used to have reusable cloth bags that our Mom and Dad gifts always came in. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Real tree or artificial? Remote-controlled fake&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. When do you put up the tree? Used to be Dec 11 but we've been pushing it back closer to the 1st the last few years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. When do you take the tree down? New Years Day&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Do you like eggnog? Mmmmmm... love it. Almost as good as hamnog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Favorite gift received as a child? A magic kit when I was 5.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. Do you have a nativity scene? A Veggie Tales Set that is missing the manger because the boys keep playing with it. So now Baby Jesus has to sleep on the dirt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. Hardest person to buy for? No one. Amber did all the hard ones this year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. Easiest person to buy for? Amber. We bought a laptop and that was supposed to be for birthdays and Christmas and anniversary. But now she's bought me stuff so maybe I'll have to take the laptop back and get her Subway gift certificates.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. Worst Christmas gift you ever received? Hmmmm... who reads this? A $50 cheese tray from work when I was expecting a cheque.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. Mail or email Christmas cards? Amber is a crafty scrapbooker / card maker, so as much as I would love to do email, it'll be mail - hopefully this week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. Favorite Christmas Movie? National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation. That was my first date by myself with a girl. Well with like 6 "couples" from our class. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13. When do you start shopping for Christmas? Like I said, I'm so glad I'm married to a Christmas-lover. She takes care of most of it and I can be as Humbug as I want.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14. Have you ever recycled a Christmas present? Not that I remember. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15. Favorite thing to eat at Christmas? Christmas party 1994, a girl brought these little tart-sized cherry cheesecakes. I knew then that I'd have to marry her. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16. Clear lights or colored on the tree? Our remote lets us turn on either the white, colored, or both. I love my treemote.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17. Favorite Christmas song? Sleigh Ride - the instrumental with the trumpet/horse at the end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18. Travel at Christmas or stay home? Home. Winter driving is no fun. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19. Can you name all of Santa's reindeers? Dasher, Dancer, Prancer, Vixen, Comet, Cupid, &lt;a href="http://www.snopes.com/holidays/christmas/donner.asp" target="_blank"&gt;Dunder, and Blixem&lt;/a&gt;. And Rudolph and Olive. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20. Angel on the tree top or a star? Angel&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;21. Open the presents Christmas Eve or morning? One on Christmas Eve and the rest Christmas morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;22. Most annoying thing about this time of year? Yuletide. And X-mas. All the plastic, glittery, capitalistic nonsense that distracts from Christmas. I'm still trying to figure out how to separate Nativity from Happy Holidays.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13281854-1683241525770420685?l=theirfather.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/feeds/1683241525770420685/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13281854&amp;postID=1683241525770420685' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/1683241525770420685'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/1683241525770420685'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/2006/12/christmas-stuff.html' title='Christmas Stuff'/><author><name>Jon</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13281854.post-8930825562119921719</id><published>2006-12-11T20:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-12-11T20:37:07.219-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fast Hands</title><content type='html'>This is a wonderfully amazing video. It's by far the fastest hammerer dulcimer player I've ever seen. The fact that I've never seen another hammered dulcimer player does nothing to diminish the awesomeness of his performance. The first two minutes or so is nice mood-setting music and then he hits movement 2 and his hands become a blur.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I'm going to have that song stuck in my head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/egLGPfkj1Gc"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/egLGPfkj1Gc" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13281854-8930825562119921719?l=theirfather.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/feeds/8930825562119921719/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13281854&amp;postID=8930825562119921719' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/8930825562119921719'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/8930825562119921719'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/2006/12/fast-hands.html' title='Fast Hands'/><author><name>Jon</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13281854.post-7881556363268975797</id><published>2006-12-11T20:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-12-11T20:29:13.608-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Amazing But True Holiday Facts</title><content type='html'>The Top 50 Amazing-but-True Holiday Facts&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* In the village where the original Saint Nicholas was born,&lt;br /&gt; children celebrate Christmas by giving gifts to old men&lt;br /&gt; with long white beards.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* Children whose families celebrate both Hanukkah and Christmas&lt;br /&gt; have a 97 percent higher chance of getting socks as a gift.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* The yule log was originally a symbol of good digestion&lt;br /&gt; following an overlarge Christmas feast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* The sugar rush of a fruitcake is canceled out by its alcohol&lt;br /&gt; content.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* The dogs barking "Jingle Bells" on the novelty record were&lt;br /&gt; not dogs at all, but parrots, which can mimic dogs and are&lt;br /&gt; easier to train.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* The first-ever Hanukkah latke recipe featured turnips,&lt;br /&gt; rhubarb and kale. These proved so unpopular that many&lt;br /&gt; different vegetables were substituted until the current&lt;br /&gt; potato version prevailed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* During the early 1970s, the Hasbro company attempted to&lt;br /&gt; build a "North Pole" toy factory at Point Barrow, Alaska.&lt;br /&gt; Construction was halted when feasibility studies predicted&lt;br /&gt; labor shortages.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* In freshly-fallen snow, reindeer hoof prints are indisguishable&lt;br /&gt; from those of the common Missouri white-tailed deer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* Studies show that neighbors tend to complain about wattage-&lt;br /&gt; sucking, multimedia outdoor decorations because they are&lt;br /&gt; *jealous*.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* On the eighth day of Christmas, Jesus was circumcised.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* The most popular eggnog in Russia is not made from chicken&lt;br /&gt; eggs, but from caviar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* Every year between Christmas Day and New Year's day, there is&lt;br /&gt; a 2-for-1 sale on caribou patties at the Anchorage Deli.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* The tradition of kissing under the mistletoe originated in&lt;br /&gt; Germany in the 18th century when a person who was deathly&lt;br /&gt; allergic to mistletoe came in contact it and had to be revived&lt;br /&gt; by mouth-to-mouth resuscitation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* Absurd as it seems, behavioral scientists claim kids don't want&lt;br /&gt; expensive toys -- what they REALLY want is just to be loved.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* The Egyptians celebrated a holiday they called "Chrystmus"&lt;br /&gt; over 1700 years before the birth of Christ.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* The primary causes of death during the holidays are heart&lt;br /&gt; attacks and suicide caused by the arrival of credit-card bills.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* According to the Department of Homeland Security's 2007&lt;br /&gt; strategic plan, 2006 will be the last year youngsters can&lt;br /&gt; sit on a mall Santa's lap without first passing through a&lt;br /&gt; metal detector.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* Properly prepared, figgy pudding is a potent aphrodisiac.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* The average height of a Christmas tree (5' 4") is exactly&lt;br /&gt; the same as the distance between Jesus's hands on the cross.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* Tinsel is an excellent garnish for chicken or veal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer" was banned from the airwaves&lt;br /&gt; and bookstores from 1950-1956 because of its implied support&lt;br /&gt; for Communism.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* Pope Gregory moved Christmas from its original day, March 17,&lt;br /&gt; at the request of Irish bishops and barley farmers who were&lt;br /&gt; promoting a new holiday to commemorate Saint Patrick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* Eggnog was created after its predecessors beefnog, hamnog and&lt;br /&gt; troutnog failed miserably.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* The reason you almost never see purple Christmas lights is&lt;br /&gt; that Saint Nicholas, the prototype for Santa Clause, believed&lt;br /&gt; purple was satanic. He even threatened to have any of his&lt;br /&gt; parishioners who wore purple excommunicated.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* Reindeer feces have been known to burn holes in roof shingles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* For nine years following the 1843 publication of "A Christmas&lt;br /&gt; Carol," Ebenezer was the most popular boys' name in Great&lt;br /&gt; Britain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      Copyright 2006 by Chris White   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;            T  H  E     T  O  P     5     L  I  S  T&lt;br /&gt; TOPFIVE -- The Web's Best Original Humor  http://www.topfive.com&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13281854-7881556363268975797?l=theirfather.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/feeds/7881556363268975797/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13281854&amp;postID=7881556363268975797' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/7881556363268975797'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/7881556363268975797'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/2006/12/amazing-but-true-holiday-facts.html' title='Amazing But True Holiday Facts'/><author><name>Jon</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13281854.post-9193067809866819973</id><published>2006-12-10T13:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-12-10T13:18:22.433-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Last One</title><content type='html'>In honor of the momentous occasion this morning, when, at church, I was sitting beside or behind my entire blog readership (all three) at once, I will post volume 4 of I'm A Christian.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/bIXDLUUn830"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/bIXDLUUn830" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13281854-9193067809866819973?l=theirfather.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/feeds/9193067809866819973/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13281854&amp;postID=9193067809866819973' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/9193067809866819973'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/9193067809866819973'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/2006/12/last-one.html' title='Last One'/><author><name>Jon</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13281854.post-6423961285018457993</id><published>2006-12-09T07:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-12-09T07:54:23.771-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Video 3</title><content type='html'>This one is probably the best parody. It really reminds me of the Mac ads but hits me pretty close to home. As someone with a degree in Christian music, it's sometimes tough to remember the variety of music out there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/pRiijctGcAY"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/pRiijctGcAY" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13281854-6423961285018457993?l=theirfather.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/feeds/6423961285018457993/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13281854&amp;postID=6423961285018457993' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/6423961285018457993'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/6423961285018457993'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/2006/12/video-3.html' title='Video 3'/><author><name>Jon</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13281854.post-3064441933593974413</id><published>2006-12-08T12:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-12-08T12:19:32.898-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Friday&apos;s Feasts'/><title type='text'>Feast 121</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Appetizer &lt;br /&gt;Which language would you like to learn and why?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think brushing up on my French would serve me very well. As a call centre agent, way more opportunities would be open to me if I was bilingual.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Soup &lt;br /&gt;What's the funniest thing you've heard or read so far this week?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Daniel and "&lt;a href="http://theirfather.blogspot.com/2006/12/who-are-these-kids.html" target="_blank"&gt;all the chicken&lt;/a&gt;". &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Salad &lt;br /&gt;Which movie was so bad you couldn't watch the whole thing?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I've said it before but "The Royal Tenenbaums". I just didn't get it at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Main Course &lt;br /&gt;If there were a holiday in your honor that didn't use your actual name, what would the day be called?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Day of Men With Brothers and Fathers and Sons and Nephews but No Females in the Line&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Dessert &lt;br /&gt;Name one movie which is coming out soon that you would like to see.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to not see movies at the theatre anymore. It's so expensive and I don't enjoy it. But next summer, I'll have to go see Spider-Man 3.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13281854-3064441933593974413?l=theirfather.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/feeds/3064441933593974413/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13281854&amp;postID=3064441933593974413' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/3064441933593974413'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/3064441933593974413'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/2006/12/feast-121.html' title='Feast 121'/><author><name>Jon</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13281854.post-817059509716716677</id><published>2006-12-08T10:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-12-08T10:12:49.306-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Part Two</title><content type='html'>Here's part 2 of this series. I really like it. Partially because jsut this week I was thinking about wearing a tie to work. Actually, this Sunday, Amber made me change my sweater beacause it wasn't "churchy" enough. And I did. So I guess we are all a little bit Christian and a little bit Christ-Follower&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/pYdD-Qc7lbY"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/pYdD-Qc7lbY" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13281854-817059509716716677?l=theirfather.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/feeds/817059509716716677/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13281854&amp;postID=817059509716716677' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/817059509716716677'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/817059509716716677'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/2006/12/part-two.html' title='Part Two'/><author><name>Jon</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13281854.post-2940784113532173811</id><published>2006-12-07T17:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-12-07T17:46:05.448-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Video'/><title type='text'>I'm a Christ Follower</title><content type='html'>Regular readers of &lt;i&gt;A Dad's View&lt;/i&gt; (that's fun to say) will know that I am a fan of the I'm a Mac ads. I posted a few weeks ago about The Church You Know. Well, I found a series of ads that may be even better. I'll post one a day for the next few days. These are by Community Christian Church. Just click the "play triangle" below to view.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/8RtfNdg1fQk"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/8RtfNdg1fQk" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13281854-2940784113532173811?l=theirfather.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/feeds/2940784113532173811/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13281854&amp;postID=2940784113532173811' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/2940784113532173811'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/2940784113532173811'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/2006/12/im-christ-follower.html' title='I&apos;m a Christ Follower'/><author><name>Jon</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13281854.post-343843317755112237</id><published>2006-12-05T10:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-12-05T10:30:25.352-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Reviews'/><title type='text'>Happy Feet - By Daniel</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_MV0djmEoUcU/RXWp2X_0-_I/AAAAAAAAAAM/djPX2eyXR0U/s1600-h/happyfeet.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_MV0djmEoUcU/RXWp2X_0-_I/AAAAAAAAAAM/djPX2eyXR0U/s320/happyfeet.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5005093312511933426" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went to &lt;i&gt;Happy Feet&lt;/i&gt; last night and I thought I would let Daniel write a review about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i liked it. it had a penguin in it. mumbo danced on the ice. i can't wait for it to come out on dvd. lol. it is a little bit scary when the seal hopped up on the ice. i want to dance like mumbo. you should see it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13281854-343843317755112237?l=theirfather.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/feeds/343843317755112237/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13281854&amp;postID=343843317755112237' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/343843317755112237'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/343843317755112237'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/2006/12/happy-feet-by-daniel.html' title='Happy Feet - By Daniel'/><author><name>Jon</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_MV0djmEoUcU/RXWp2X_0-_I/AAAAAAAAAAM/djPX2eyXR0U/s72-c/happyfeet.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13281854.post-2031835372659315563</id><published>2006-12-05T09:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-12-05T13:12:46.270-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Who Are These Kids?</title><content type='html'>I don't know what's going on. Maybe it's a virus, maybe it's Christmas fever, maybe it's alien abduction, but the boys have definitely got some Jekyll/Hyde going on this week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's a few examples:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday afternoon. We're setting up the Christmas tree and the boys are getting more and more worked up. We send them downstairs and put the gate up to keep Andrew upstairs. After about 30 seconds, they decide they want to come back up. Amber and I have a huge Christmas decoration mess everywhere and would prefer them to not get into it. They have a huge fit at the top of the stairs and one of them (probably Daniel) yanks the pressure-fit gate down towards him and Josh. Unfortunately, they are at the top of the stairs when doing this. I go down and untangle them from the gate and boots and they are pretty happy for the most part.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---===---&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday night. I'm making supper and I hear the boys playing with their VeggieTales nativity set. Jimmy and Jerry Gourd are wearing a cow costume. They've been playing nicely for a couple of hours now. I hear the following conversation:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Moooo!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Aaaaaaah!&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;We're sorry Baby Jesus. It's just us - Jimmy and Jerry. We were just pretending to be a cow.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;I forgive you Jimmy and Jerry&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---===---&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday night supper. Amber asked Daniel to set the table and he was too busy playing with his Veggies, so I did it. We were all seated at the table about to start eating our delicious roast beef dinner. Daniel snapped and started screaming, "&lt;b&gt;I WANTED TO SET THE TABLE! AAAAAAAaaaaaaahhhHHH!&lt;/b&gt;"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I picked him up and took him back to his room to cool off. I went back a few minutes later and he apologized. He came out to the dining room to apologize to Amber - all happy and relaxed. He saw the table again and said, "&lt;b&gt;I WANTED TO SET THE TABLE! AAAAAAAaaaaaaahhhHHH!&lt;/b&gt;" Back to his room...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Several minutes later, he came out slinking on the floor and popped up, "&lt;b&gt;Surprise!&lt;/b&gt;". We welcomed him back to the table and he went into a bit of a trance. He took the serving plate of roast beef and started stabbing at large pieces with his fork.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"&lt;b&gt;I want all the chicken! I am going to be big! I'm going to eat all the chicken!&lt;/b&gt;" I gently reached across and took the plate away from him when he had about half a pound of beef. This brought out Mr. Hyde again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;font color="red"&gt;"I AM EATING ALL THE CHICKEN!!! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaHHHHHHHHH!"&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He went back to his room for another 5 minutes or so and when he came out again, he was normal for the rest of the night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, for the most part anyway. When he was eating, he "noticed" that he didn't have his name tag from church on anymore. I assured him that it was okay and he doesn't need a name tag at home. I'm not so sure myself about that though - a tag that said "Crazy Daniel" or "Normal Daniel" would be nice to have.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13281854-2031835372659315563?l=theirfather.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/feeds/2031835372659315563/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13281854&amp;postID=2031835372659315563' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/2031835372659315563'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/2031835372659315563'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/2006/12/who-are-these-kids.html' title='Who Are These Kids?'/><author><name>Jon</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13281854.post-8613734239994179762</id><published>2006-11-28T09:11:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2006-11-28T10:47:34.661-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Idiot test</title><content type='html'>Here's something to get you through a chilly day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It took me 6 tries but I'm Brilliant!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.southafrican.za.net/idiotTest.swf"&gt;http://www.southafrican.za.net/idiotTest.swf&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13281854-8613734239994179762?l=theirfather.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/feeds/8613734239994179762/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13281854&amp;postID=8613734239994179762' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/8613734239994179762'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/8613734239994179762'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/2006/11/idiot-test.html' title='Idiot test'/><author><name>Jon</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13281854.post-3869052647566593541</id><published>2006-11-28T08:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-11-28T08:16:51.483-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Brrrrrrrr</title><content type='html'>I agree with Amber. Winter is no fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to start my miracle van this morning and even though it's been working just fine at -39 all week, I guess -42 was too much for her and all I got was rrrr, rrrr, click.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today is a home day. I called work and said I'm not coming in. Somehow I knew I'd need today off. I worked a bunch of overtime this week so I'm not missing any hours. Daniel is reading this off the screen as I type it, so I better go get him some breakfast.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13281854-3869052647566593541?l=theirfather.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/feeds/3869052647566593541/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13281854&amp;postID=3869052647566593541' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/3869052647566593541'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/3869052647566593541'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/2006/11/brrrrrrrr.html' title='Brrrrrrrr'/><author><name>Jon</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13281854.post-3218469586740560139</id><published>2006-11-27T23:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-12-05T13:14:23.001-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Rules</title><content type='html'>I have so many blog posts I want to do but I need to get this one out before I forget.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There should be a sign up in every men's room with The Rules clearly laid out. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) Eyes forward&lt;br /&gt;2) No talking&lt;br /&gt;3) Especially no talking about what you saw when your eyes weren't forward.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll work out the rest later, and then give them to this weirdo at my work. I was alone in the men's room, minding my own business. This guy who I've never seen before comes in and says, "Wow, full house in here, eh?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two stalls, two urinals, and me. He calls this a full house. I know I've got my winter weight on but I'm not that big.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He then sidles up beside me and proceeds do his business like the proverbial race horse and says, "What a waste of perfectly good coffee, eh?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, apparently he didn't get the hint when I ignored his first "eh". I smiled nervously and nodded. Then I washed up and ran back to my desk. I can't get those rules printed fast enough.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13281854-3218469586740560139?l=theirfather.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/feeds/3218469586740560139/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13281854&amp;postID=3218469586740560139' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/3218469586740560139'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/3218469586740560139'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/2006/11/rules.html' title='The Rules'/><author><name>Jon</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13281854.post-6046104802684014760</id><published>2006-11-22T09:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-11-22T10:06:01.806-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Reviews'/><title type='text'>Mid-season review</title><content type='html'>It's not really the middle of the season yet, but since I'm here, I'll do a quick update on my drama shows. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;B&gt;&lt;i&gt;Battlestar Galactica&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This season has been focused even more on broken people and broken relationships. They have covered military occupation, suicide bombers, vigilante justice, torture, genocide, alcoholism, treason, parenthood, post-traumatic stress disorder, slavery, religion, and plague - all in the first 6 episodes. The best part however is how the writers and actors treat the fall-out of all of these changes. Old friendships have been lost, possibly irrevocably torn, and new relationships have developed and grown. Calling this a show about space is like saying the pope is a "Catholic guy with a hat".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This show has been given a second chance. I think it's one of the most cleverly-written shows on TV right now. The humour takes some thinking. The pace is always very frantic and you have to pay attention to the dialogue. I've heard it compared to The West Wing, but I never saw that show so I can't be certain. The critics have been very positive but the ratings haven't been what NBC expected. I think it's too hard for people to get. It's a drama with comedic moments, or possibly a fairly serious comedy. I like it for its glimpse backstage to see how a show like this comes together. A sketch comedy series may not be as important a topic as the White House, or an emergency room, or a forensics department, but I'm into it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;Heroes&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The one I had the highest hopes for. The one I also feared would suck the most. I remember having that same feeling in the summer of 2002 when I went to the theatre to see &lt;i&gt;Spider-Man&lt;/i&gt;. As the opening credits rolled, I was excited for what I might see but I was so scared of it being like the 1960s &lt;i&gt;Batman&lt;/i&gt; series. What could the kid from &lt;i&gt;Cider House Rules&lt;/i&gt; and the girl from &lt;i&gt;Jumanji&lt;/i&gt; do with such an icon. I sat for 121 minutes and when the closing credits rolled, I was fully satisified. I loved it. I knew that there would be a sequel and that we had entered a new age of superhero shows.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All this to say that after nine episodes, I am both fully satisfied and terribly frustrated with this show. I think it's my favorite show and when it's over I am frustrated that I have to wait another week to see what's happening. Every answer brings five more questions. The series has basically wrapped up their first major arc  (&lt;i&gt;"Save the cheerleader. Save the world"&lt;/i&gt;) but has left the story more open than ever. We have our heroes being arrested, chased, knocked out, and straight-up vanished in time and we don't know what will happen. Next week's episode is called, "Six Months Ago" and should answer some of our questions, but will more than likely ask dozens more.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13281854-6046104802684014760?l=theirfather.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/feeds/6046104802684014760/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13281854&amp;postID=6046104802684014760' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/6046104802684014760'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/6046104802684014760'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/2006/11/mid-season-review.html' title='Mid-season review'/><author><name>Jon</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13281854.post-8766979502740739474</id><published>2006-11-22T09:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-11-22T10:06:26.901-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Boys'/><title type='text'>I'm right, Daddy!</title><content type='html'>Josh is so cute. When he gets something in his head, it won't come out. Here are a few phrases I've tried to correct for him this week but he says, "I'm right, Daddy."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Mmmm, this milk is freeeeee-freshing!" (&lt;i&gt;I guess it doesn't cost Josh anything, so it could be right&lt;/i&gt;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Good night, sleep tight. Don't forget, the bed bugs bite." (&lt;i&gt;A good warning to keep in mind before going to sleep&lt;/i&gt;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"We learned the story of Daniel and the Lion Stand at church" (&lt;i&gt;Must be where Daniel sold lions to weary travelers&lt;/i&gt;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder where he gets his stubborn streak. ;)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13281854-8766979502740739474?l=theirfather.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/feeds/8766979502740739474/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13281854&amp;postID=8766979502740739474' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/8766979502740739474'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/8766979502740739474'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/2006/11/im-right-daddy.html' title='I&apos;m right, Daddy!'/><author><name>Jon</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13281854.post-5823267166395710476</id><published>2006-11-20T12:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-11-20T16:58:21.030-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Boys'/><title type='text'>Stood Up v.2.0</title><content type='html'>I got a comment this week from faithful reader, Heather, stating that I haven't posted in a while. I know how addictive blogs can be and there are a few people out there reading so I'll post a cute boy story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amber wrote the first version of &lt;a href="http://http://ambermcinnis.blogspot.com/2006/11/stood-up.html" target="_blank"&gt;Stood Up&lt;/a&gt; last week. Mine's not as sad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other morning, I heard Andrew calling me as usual. "Daaaaadaa!  Daaaaaaaaad! Mamamamamama!" I went in to pick him up and saw that he was standing in his crib. He had pulled himself up the bars and was holding on to the top rail looking very proud of himself. He's such a big boy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then again last night, we put him to bed and he was not going for it. He wanted to stay up and play. (Strange, since he'd woken up at 5:45 and had been out visiting all day.) Anyways, I came into his room and turned the light on. He was standing up again and when the light came on, he shut his eyes and tucked his head in. However, he forgot he had the crib rail right in front of his face and he headbutted it pretty good. He cried even louder at that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13281854-5823267166395710476?l=theirfather.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/feeds/5823267166395710476/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13281854&amp;postID=5823267166395710476' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/5823267166395710476'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/5823267166395710476'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/2006/11/stood-up-v20.html' title='Stood Up v.2.0'/><author><name>Jon</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13281854.post-390987701264155258</id><published>2006-10-27T16:19:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-10-27T17:07:21.394-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The Church You Know</title><content type='html'>I must be on vacation. The last time I did 4 posts in one day was a year ago when we were visiting Calgary and thinking about moving back. I guess I have blog posts going through my head but just don't have a chance to write them when I'm working.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;==================&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I came across a very cool site today. It's called &lt;a href="http://www.thechurchyouknow.com/index.html" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;i&gt;The Church You Know&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/a&gt; It's the funniest and most thought-provoking video site I've seen since the &lt;a href="http://www.apple.com/getamac/ads/" target="_blank"&gt;I'm a Mac&lt;/a&gt; ads.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's a parody of the cheesy public service announcements that celebrities have been doing on NBC since I was a little child. Two Christian guys who feel the institutionalized church is getting stale and complacent have made 7 short PSAs to generate discussion about the way we do things and how we might change. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take a look. Enjoy. And think.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13281854-390987701264155258?l=theirfather.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/feeds/390987701264155258/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13281854&amp;postID=390987701264155258' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/390987701264155258'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/390987701264155258'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/2006/10/church-you-know.html' title='The Church You Know'/><author><name>Jon</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13281854.post-9147734588001634303</id><published>2006-10-27T09:56:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-10-27T10:06:30.019-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Friday&apos;s Feasts'/><title type='text'>Friday's Feast</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Appetizer&lt;br /&gt;Create a new candle scent.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Warm Fresh Bread&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Soup&lt;br /&gt;Name one way you show affection to others.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmmm, I hug my family but I can't see that working too well at my job. I think encouragement and kind words do wonders.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Salad&lt;br /&gt;What is your favorite writing instrument?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Computer keyboard - see my other &lt;a href="http://theirfather.blogspot.com/2006/10/handwriting.html"&gt;post&lt;/a&gt; today&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Main Course&lt;br /&gt;If you were given $25 to spend anywhere online, from which site would you buy?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;eBay, definitely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Dessert&lt;br /&gt;Are you dressing up for Halloween? If so, what are you going to be?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amber has committed us to going trick-or-treating with the boys and their girlfriends. Unless she has something up her sleeve, I will be dressed up as "Dad in a winter coat pushing a stroller".&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13281854-9147734588001634303?l=theirfather.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/feeds/9147734588001634303/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13281854&amp;postID=9147734588001634303' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/9147734588001634303'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/9147734588001634303'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/2006/10/fridays-feast.html' title='Friday&apos;s Feast'/><author><name>Jon</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13281854.post-5036339594225439206</id><published>2006-10-27T09:29:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-10-27T09:44:17.302-06:00</updated><title type='text'>More naming</title><content type='html'>Amber and I have posted a number of times on baby names and things people should think about when they are pregnant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A lovely couple that do one of my favorite podcasts, &lt;a href="http://davemadethis.com/twoboobs/" target="_blank"&gt;Two Boobs and a Baby+&lt;/a&gt;, have just had their second child. Ella Delaney. A pretty name in its own right. And their son, Sam, who was born almost exactly a year earlier, has an equally normal and good name. The thing is that they named them without thought to how they fit together. Even after people pointed it out to them while she was pregnant, they decided it would be funny to name their kids Sam 'n' Ella. I can respect their decision, because they consciously thought it through. Though I think their idea of having a yearly birthday BBQ party in support of Sam 'n' Ella is kind of tacky.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My second thought on this topic is that people name their babies thinking of them as babies. They don't think about what the name will be like on a grown-up. Can you imagine Prime Minister Gynnipher Jones?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A perfect example of this was the little girl at the Hallowe'en party we went to. She was dressed up in a lab coat and stethoscope and had a nametag that said, "Dr. Trinity". This poor girl has been set up to be in the adult entertainment industry.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13281854-5036339594225439206?l=theirfather.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/feeds/5036339594225439206/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13281854&amp;postID=5036339594225439206' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/5036339594225439206'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/5036339594225439206'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/2006/10/more-naming.html' title='More naming'/><author><name>Jon</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13281854.post-5431096725288059429</id><published>2006-10-27T07:33:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-10-27T09:29:27.436-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Handwriting</title><content type='html'>There have been a few articles going around recently about the importance of cursive handwriting. On Monday, one of my favorite tech blog/news sites, &lt;a href="http://techdirt.com/articles/20061023/172235.shtml" target="_blank"&gt; techdirt&lt;/a&gt;, reported on an column in the &lt;a href="http://www.telegraphindia.com/1061023/asp/atleisure/story_6905191.asp" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Calcutta Telegraph&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/a&gt;. The journalist says that only around 15% of kids today choose to write in "cursive", or as I've always called it, "rumply handwriting". They go so far as to quote Rhona Stainthorp, professor of literacy at the Institute of Education at University College London as saying, “Handwriting has become the Cinderella skill of literacy. Unless children learn to write legibly and at speed, their educational achievements may be reduced and their self-esteem affected. Handwriting is a skill and needs to be taught to a level where it flows automatically.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I laughed at this. Especially when the techdirt writer added his editorial comment, "Next up: we'll be hearing about how awful it is that children, these days, no longer churn their own butter."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought it was an interesting story but not at all important until yesterday. Only 4 days later, the Calgary Herald did a cover story on this same topic in their free community paper, &lt;a href= "http://www.canada.com/calgaryherald/news/neighbours/story.html?id=50aa6c29-1cf4-4bca-bde6-5a893c1f5346" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Neighbours&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/a&gt;. I read this article, which was 787 words long and I'm quite sure Cindy Stephen didn't hand in to her editor written in longhand cursive, and actually laughed out loud.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stephen opens with a nostalgic look back at the time when, "Penmanship was graded and teachers held high expectations for neatly written work -- an A+ for lovely loops and sharply crossed T's, slanted ever so slightly to the right. Teachers were known to rap the knuckles of students holding their pens incorrectly and carelessly written papers were tossed back to be rewritten in proper form." I look back on my childhood and wish things could be like they were too. I wish I could let my kids walk to Kindergarten by themselves, I wish they could ride their bikes to the corner store and trade glass pop bottles for candies. But I've never wished they'd get their knuckles rapped for printing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A mother quoted in the article says, ""I'm concerned that people will look down on my kids if all they do in the future is print. People will say to them, 'you don't know how to write?' or 'didn't you go to school?' Or what if they have a job where they have to decipher handwriting?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is hilarious. I am a college graduate with a degree in music. Possibly one of the most artsy degrees you can get. My hood was actually a beautiful shade of pale pink. I worked in a classical music shop for 6 years. One would think that being in such an artistic, creative setting I would be one of the most likely people to see and use this style of writing. Guess what? I haven't used cursive for probably 20 years. The only time I have seen it is when I get a letter from my grandma - a second-grade school teacher who retired in the mid 80s.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The closest thing I can imagine to this mother's feared situation is people saying, "You only print? Don't you know how to type? Didn't you go to school?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It gets better. We then hear from a teacher - not a 62 year old woman who has been teaching the same way for 40 years, but from recent graduate in her first year of teaching. She says, "A lot of employers are looking for handwritten cover letters -- I tell my students this to convince them that they should be using handwriting."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What??? I have NEVER handwritten a cover letter. If I did, I am sure it would be the first thing thrown in the recycling bin. No matter how legilble it is, longhand cursive is harder to read and looks far more informal than neat printing or typing. Amber told me that she has heard that some secretarial positions want a sample of handwriting to see how organized and neat you are. I guess if you want to be a secretary or handwriting analyst, it may be important.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just tried writing a paragraph in cursive. It took my much, much longer than if I printed, and typing would have been even faster. However, when I looked back at it, I could kind of make out what I had written. I felt a little twinge of pride at my ability to do this - especially because I had tried to include hard letters like Q, Z, and G. This pride is the same kind of feeling I get when I work out long division by hand, or successfully read something in French, or remember the order of the planets. These are things I am happy I can do and look back nostalgically upon, but they are not things I use in my real life. A good calculator, translation software, google search, or word processor can do these things much more efficiently and neatly. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope my kids learn cursive as a link to the past, but I will never make them actually write anything important in it. There's a reason why all forms say "Please Print".&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13281854-5431096725288059429?l=theirfather.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/feeds/5431096725288059429/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13281854&amp;postID=5431096725288059429' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/5431096725288059429'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/5431096725288059429'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/2006/10/handwriting.html' title='Handwriting'/><author><name>Jon</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13281854.post-7041153690077603574</id><published>2006-10-13T20:18:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-10-13T20:29:41.372-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Twelve of Twelve</title><content type='html'>I remembered to take my pictures this month so I can post my 12 of 12. Even if it is kind of late.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/2622/1621/1600/01%20Q.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/2622/1621/320/01%20Q.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First of all, I have a picture of my new phone. I got a Motorola Q from work and just activated it last night. The rest of the pictures were taken with this device.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/2622/1621/1600/02%20frosty.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/2622/1621/320/02%20frosty.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I went out to get in the van, the windows were all frosted over. It's been pretty nice here the last little while so it was quite a surprise to have to scrape first thing in the morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/2622/1621/1600/03%20drive.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/2622/1621/320/03%20drive.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I finally got the windows clean and got going to work. I'm working morning shifts again this month, so driving in rush hour is taking some getting used to. It can take me anywhere from 15 to 75 minutes to get to work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/2622/1621/1600/04%20gym.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/2622/1621/320/04%20gym.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I made it to the gym this morning. I'd like to say this is my regular routine, but I just lucked out today and I got up early while the boys slept in. I put in 15 minutes on the treadmill and then headed off to work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/2622/1621/1600/05%20class.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/2622/1621/320/05%20class.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm in training this week, so I get to sit in a nice classroom and not take any calls. That's very nice. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/2622/1621/1600/06%20coffee.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/2622/1621/320/06%20coffee.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mmmmm... free coffee. Another perk of the training building.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/2622/1621/1600/07%20puddle.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/2622/1621/320/07%20puddle.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got home late. I picked up supper and had bad traffic so it took a while. Andrew took his cup of water and made himself a water feature on his high chair tray. I don't know how well it shows up in the picture, but he has quite the puddle there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/2622/1621/1600/08%20cookies.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/2622/1621/320/08%20cookies.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amber and the boys decorated Halloween cookies this afternoon. Yumm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/2622/1621/1600/10%20walk.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/2622/1621/320/10%20walk.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went for a walk after supper and the boys ran around in the park for a while. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/2622/1621/1600/11%20leaves.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/2622/1621/320/11%20leaves.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And played in piles of leaves that Amber was sure were full of dog pee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/2622/1621/1600/09%20new%20music%20night.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/2622/1621/320/09%20new%20music%20night.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a rehearsal at church where we learned 14 new songs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/2622/1621/1600/12%20slurpee.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/2622/1621/320/12%20slurpee.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And on the way home I picked up some more dispensed caffeine /  energy. Mmmmm... slurpee.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13281854-7041153690077603574?l=theirfather.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/feeds/7041153690077603574/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13281854&amp;postID=7041153690077603574' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/7041153690077603574'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/7041153690077603574'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/2006/10/twelve-of-twelve.html' title='Twelve of Twelve'/><author><name>Jon</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13281854.post-9052642850059352114</id><published>2006-10-13T12:39:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-10-13T12:45:16.808-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Over the head</title><content type='html'>I was getting Andrew ready for bed the other night and I realized it was quieter than normal. I wonder when he stopped being frightened of having his shirt taken off. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Babies don't seem to realize that the darkness involved with pulling your shirt off over your head is over in half a second and they scream. But Andrew didn't cry this time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sniff... my little boy is growing up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13281854-9052642850059352114?l=theirfather.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/feeds/9052642850059352114/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13281854&amp;postID=9052642850059352114' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/9052642850059352114'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/9052642850059352114'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/2006/10/over-head.html' title='Over the head'/><author><name>Jon</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13281854.post-6946725805870969521</id><published>2006-10-02T07:20:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-10-02T07:26:46.437-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Too loud</title><content type='html'>This morning Josh got up early and had to go to the bathroom. I went in with him and when he was peeing, he covered his ear with his free hand. Then when he flushed, he covered both ears. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amber had just told me that he seems to be oversensitive to stimuli and maybe we should get his ears checked. I was wondering why he was doing it and I asked him, "&lt;i&gt;What's the matter Joshie? Is it too loud?&lt;/i&gt;"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He replied, briefly removing his hands, "Yes, it's too loud. I don't want it to wake up Andrew." He then covered his ears again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess this is a adaptation of the classic "If-I-cover-my-head-you-can't-see-me" routine. Josh figured if he covered his ears, it actually made the sounds quieter. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe he doesn't need his ears checked. Maybe he's just thinking of others. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13281854-6946725805870969521?l=theirfather.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/feeds/6946725805870969521/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13281854&amp;postID=6946725805870969521' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/6946725805870969521'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/6946725805870969521'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/2006/10/too-loud.html' title='Too loud'/><author><name>Jon</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13281854.post-8687941476014883329</id><published>2006-10-01T22:22:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-10-01T22:53:32.532-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Reviews'/><title type='text'>Getting into Drama</title><content type='html'>When I was younger I watched sitcoms and gameshows. 6 years ago, &lt;i&gt;Survivor&lt;/i&gt; got me into reality TV. A few years ago, my channels of choice were Discovery and Food Network. For some reason though, this fall I have gotten into some new drama series. I haven't really had a drama show that I've watched regularly since I got married so we'll see if I stick with these.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;Battlestar Galactica&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had heard people talking about this show for the last few years - mostly about downloading early episodes from the UK because it wasn't available here or something. It just didn't strike me as a show worth watching. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then it kept coming up more and more. People at work were talking about how it is such a great show and puts all the Star... series to shame (Trek, Wars, Gate, and I guess Search). Father Roderick on the &lt;i&gt;Daily Breakfast&lt;/i&gt; podcast (link in the sidebar) mentioned it a few times and talked about how it is an allegory for religious discussion and how the writers have made the shades of grey so subtle, it's hard to tell who the "good guys" are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I rented the first season from the movie store about 3 weeks ago and have watched at least two episodes a night since then. I zipped through the first 13 episode season and then watched all 20 episodes of the 2nd season in less than 2 weeks. I am hooked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The show is great. I am so glad I took the time to do this right and catch up before the third season starts this Saturday. The stories are so real and integrated that I really became involved in the lives of these people. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's no way I can give enough backstory for a new viewer to jump in on the 7th and understand what is happening, who all these characters are. There are probably hundreds of good fansites out there that could help. I will however give a few things that I think make this different from other sci-fi series.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) No forehead makeup. The aliens look like humans and that's a crucial part of the series. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) No comedic sidekicks. Star Trek and Star Wars have always had at least one character (C-3PO, Jar-Jar, Phlox, Quark, Data) who is often used to lighten the mood with sarcastic one-liners. BSG takes all of its characters seriously and you really care about them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3) Flawed heroes. A stubborn admiral and his drunk executive officer, a disobediant and insubordinate top gun, a top political figure who collaborates with the enemy, sleeps with anyone he can find, and is slowly going crazy, a crusty old doctor who doesn't listen to the commander and does things his own way. Well the last one is a lot like Bones McCoy but Donnelly Rhodes plays him so well I can overlook that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4) Admirable villains. A woman who rises from the mistakes in her past to help save the crew and fight the enemy. She learns to love and overcome her "mechanical" nature and it is that love that gives her hope. Another cylon (enemy) character uses her love for a human to start a resistance movement that will likely play a key role in the new season.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5) People die - and not just "red shirts". They haven't killed off any of the major characters yet but there are a few - especially in the latter part of season two - that would definitely be defined as supporting players. People who we had learned quite a bit about and had played key roles in multiple episodes. And when they die, it means something. People grieve. Relationships are changed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6) Less unintelligible techno-babble. Aside from "dradis", "CAG", "frak", "viper", and a few others that are used regularly and therefore are easy to figure out, there's not a whole lot of sci-fi language. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I actually was introduced to this show months ago. I do a lot of online surveys and was selected to be part of a focus group for the pilot of this season. I saw about 12 minutes of various scenes and was asked my opinion. I don't know if I would have watched it if I hadn't had that peek but I am really enjoying it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's a very interesting backstage look at the production of a late-night live sketch comedy series on a fictional network. It isn't afraid to show balanced and fair views of Christianity, drug abuse, office politics, and takes more than a few shots at NBC and television in general.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know all the details about Aaron Sorkin and his previous problems with The West Wing. Other bloggers have covered that. All I know is that I don't normally watch dramas and this one has dragged me in. Maybe its my interest in seeing how things work and looking behind the curtains.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;Heroes&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The third drama I am getting into this fall is &lt;i&gt;Heroes&lt;/i&gt;. The second part of the premiere is on tonight and I am really looking forward to it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's a new show about people all over the world developing incredible skills. Human evolution is about to take a new leap forwards and a small collection of people are discovering "gifts" such as flight, teleportation, remarkably fast healing / regeneration. In the first hour, we met close to a dozen characters and I was able to care about them all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like Battlestar, this is a very realistically portrayed fantasy world. Even though I expect they will be brought together in an X-men fashion, I highly doubt they will end up in yellow and blue spandex. These are people who didn't choose to be heroes but they will likely step up to the challenge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next episode is on in about an hour so I'll just post this now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13281854-8687941476014883329?l=theirfather.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/feeds/8687941476014883329/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13281854&amp;postID=8687941476014883329' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/8687941476014883329'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/8687941476014883329'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/2006/10/getting-into-drama.html' title='Getting into Drama'/><author><name>Jon</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13281854.post-171588088912606501</id><published>2006-09-29T19:13:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-09-29T19:18:32.086-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Friday&apos;s Feasts'/><title type='text'>Friday's Feast</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Appetizer &lt;br /&gt;What is your favorite herb or spice?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Garlic&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Soup &lt;br /&gt;Name a song you like but haven't heard in a long time.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;We Didn't Start the Fire&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Salad &lt;br /&gt;If you were to take just one minute to write down as many things as you can think of that you need (not want) to do, approximately how many things would there be?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How fast can I type? Maybe 15 or 20 if I used short words.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Main Course &lt;br /&gt;Tell something interesting about one of your family members (nothing scandalous, please, just something unique).&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Daniel's middle name is Robliam.&lt;br /&gt;Josh has memorized and acts out obscure scenes from VeggieTales movies&lt;br /&gt;Andrew can jump for about 90 minutes and then fall asleep in his Jolly Jumper &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Dessert &lt;br /&gt;What's the latest you've ever stayed awake? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was working graveyard shifts, I would come home and go to bed around 9:30am and sleep for a few hours.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13281854-171588088912606501?l=theirfather.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/feeds/171588088912606501/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13281854&amp;postID=171588088912606501' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/171588088912606501'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/171588088912606501'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/2006/09/fridays-feast_29.html' title='Friday&apos;s Feast'/><author><name>Jon</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13281854.post-1209084287545247725</id><published>2006-09-28T11:09:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-09-28T11:20:23.670-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Boys'/><title type='text'>Names</title><content type='html'>Daniel and Josh are the only ones in their class with the same name. There's a Danny in Josh's class and a Jonah in Daniel's. I know at some point in their school career they'll be Daniel or Josh M. but that's OK.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's pretty bad in the classes for double names. Here are some of the duplicates.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Katie and Katia&lt;br /&gt;Ethan C, Ethan Y, and Eason&lt;br /&gt;Matthew F. and Matthew Ford&lt;br /&gt;Alison and Alysa&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I read somewhere that it's good to name your kids something unique so when you call them in the park, they're the only one who comes running. However you don't want their name to be so unique that they are running because kids are chasing them calling, "Ha ha! Did she just call you Flabervia?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's a great site out there that talks about names that people have given their kids. If you want a quick laugh check out &lt;a href="http://www.notwithoutmyhandbag.com/babynames/index.html" target="_blank"&gt;"Baby's Named a Bad, Bad Thing"&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13281854-1209084287545247725?l=theirfather.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/feeds/1209084287545247725/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13281854&amp;postID=1209084287545247725' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/1209084287545247725'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/1209084287545247725'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/2006/09/names.html' title='Names'/><author><name>Jon</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13281854.post-689753288140626336</id><published>2006-09-26T16:44:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-09-26T16:48:33.362-06:00</updated><title type='text'>On the Move</title><content type='html'>Andrew is becoming more and more mobile. Yesterday we noticed him scootching across the floor. Pulling himself with his hips and arms. He can really get going.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was leaving for work today, we saw him getting his legs under his bum for a proper crawl. It ended with him pitching his face into the carpet, but he's definitely getting better at moving. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We need to be careful about baby-proofing again. The boys have lots of toys that would look yummy to a newly-mobile toddler. Amber packed up more than 5 big black bags of garbage last night so we are well on our way. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13281854-689753288140626336?l=theirfather.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/feeds/689753288140626336/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13281854&amp;postID=689753288140626336' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/689753288140626336'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/689753288140626336'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/2006/09/on-move.html' title='On the Move'/><author><name>Jon</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13281854.post-5831056738435194198</id><published>2006-09-24T08:11:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-09-24T08:19:03.698-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Lasts</title><content type='html'>As parents we get so focused on firsts that we miss the lasts. Let me explain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday, Amber posted about the first time Andrew stood up by himself. I actually saw it too. It was so cute. We were all smiling and laughing and cheering for him. But at some point this week, I think Andrew had his last breastfeeding. I had to get him a bottle at 5:00 this morning because I realized he's not nursing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think the lasts are just as important but are much harder to find and remember. Another last we've missed in the last year: Josh's last diaper. That's a huge milestone but because it's gradual, I don't think we'd ever have known when it was happening. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have lots of other lasts coming up. I can't think of any right now because it's making me a little sad. Maybe that's why we concentrate on firsts.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13281854-5831056738435194198?l=theirfather.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/feeds/5831056738435194198/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13281854&amp;postID=5831056738435194198' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/5831056738435194198'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/5831056738435194198'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/2006/09/lasts.html' title='Lasts'/><author><name>Jon</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13281854.post-5009579212151504292</id><published>2006-09-21T22:17:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-09-21T22:24:58.310-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Friday's Feast</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Appetizer &lt;br /&gt;Measured in minutes or hours, how much exercise have you had in the last week?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Minutes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Soup&lt;br /&gt;If you had to change your blog title to something else, what would it be?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Geeky Dad&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Salad &lt;br /&gt;Name one television show you watched when you were 9-12 years old.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hercules (not the terrible Kevin Sorbo one - the cool cartoon with Newton the double-talking centaur and his little friend Toot). Man, I would buy a DVD set of that show. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Main Course &lt;br /&gt;If someone gave you $50 to spend with the one condition that it had to be educational, what would you purchase?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A new Bible&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Dessert &lt;br /&gt;Do you tend to prefer dark colors, neutral shades, or lighter/pastel hues?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Neutrals&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13281854-5009579212151504292?l=theirfather.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/feeds/5009579212151504292/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13281854&amp;postID=5009579212151504292' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/5009579212151504292'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/5009579212151504292'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/2006/09/fridays-feast_21.html' title='Friday&apos;s Feast'/><author><name>Jon</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13281854.post-1799420885822294530</id><published>2006-09-12T09:42:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-09-07T10:02:02.682-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Reviews'/><title type='text'>All In</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.amazon.ca/All-In-Almost-Entirely-Story/dp/0312348355/sr=8-1/qid=1157643910/ref=sr_1_1/702-7895565-7672861?ie=UTF8&amp;s=gateway" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://ec1.images-amazon.com/images/P/0312348355.01._PE34_OU15_SCMZZZZZZZ_.jpg" align="left"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt; While on vacation last month, I read a really good book by Jonathan Grotenstein and Storms Reback called &lt;i&gt;All In: The (Almost) Entirely True Story of the World Series of Poker&lt;/i&gt;. Now, if anyone out there is an English teacher, I'm sure this will suck as a book report, but I thought I'd do a little review.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's a really cool history of how this tournament grew from a publicity stunt put on by Benny Binion and 8 Texas road gamblers to a multimedia spectacle with thousands of competitors playing dozens of games and has given away more money than the four major PGA tournaments combined in their history.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It interrupts the stories of the tournaments with personal vignettes, glimpses into the lives of the players. For someone who has only been following professional poker since 2003 (like nearly everyone out there), it was very interesting to read the histories of people like Doyle Brunson, Amarillo Slim, Johnny Chan, Phil Helmuth, Johnny Moss, and Jack Strauss. Some of their stories are sad. Champions who had won millions of dollars in their lifetimes but who died like they lived most days of their lives, without a penny to their names. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It also went into the story of the Binion family who owned and operated the Horseshoe Casino that hosted the event nearly its entire run. Their story is the most intriguing. Sickness, murder, family feuds, court cases, hostile takeovers. It is an exciting tale of how the business of casino ownership in Las Vegas changed from the 1950s to the present day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you're interested in poker, or just looking for an interesting story full of compelling characters, give it a shot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like one of those kids on &lt;i&gt;Reading Rainbow&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13281854-1799420885822294530?l=theirfather.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/feeds/1799420885822294530/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13281854&amp;postID=1799420885822294530' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/1799420885822294530'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/1799420885822294530'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/2006/09/all-in.html' title='All In'/><author><name>Jon</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13281854.post-3543518809859125040</id><published>2006-09-09T14:18:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-09-09T14:27:06.422-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Boys'/><title type='text'>Could Anything Be Big Enough?</title><content type='html'>We got a king-size bed last week. Someone Amber knows from her online activities was giving away a king-size Sealy Posturpedic matress and box spring. We managed to "taco" the mattress enough to get it into Bill's truck and brought it home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We thought this would be a great idea since we often have a few extras joining us in the bed by the time morning rolls around. Andrew usually comes to bed for an early breakfast around 4:30 or so. Then Daniel or Josh comes for a little cuddling time before getting up for the day. We figured a 78 inch wide mattress should be just right. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It took me a while to get used to not sleeping right on the edge of the bed. I can actually spread out a little bit. It didn't take Josh long though. The other morning, I felt a little tapping on my shoulder. It was still dark and I wasn't ready to get up, so I ignored it and tried to scootch away to the edge. The tapping persisted. I rolled over to see Amber laying on her edge of the bed and Andrew was smacking me with his hands and kicking her. He was H-ing us. Andrew is now over 27 inches long and with his tiny arms reaching above his head, that leaves us with about 2 feet of mattress each. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd do better to go sleep in the crib.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13281854-3543518809859125040?l=theirfather.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/feeds/3543518809859125040/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13281854&amp;postID=3543518809859125040' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/3543518809859125040'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/3543518809859125040'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/2006/09/could-anything-be-big-enough.html' title='Could Anything Be Big Enough?'/><author><name>Jon</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13281854.post-2270308402727341246</id><published>2006-09-08T13:56:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2006-09-08T13:56:43.031-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Jokes'/><title type='text'>Warning</title><content type='html'>I hate it when people forward bogus warnings...but this one is real, and it's important. So please send this warning to everyone on your e-mail list.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If someone comes to your front door saying they are conducting a survey on deer ticks and asks you to take your clothes off and dance around with your arms up, DO NOT DO IT!!  IT IS A SCAM; they only want to see you naked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish I'd gotten this yesterday. I feel so silly now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13281854-2270308402727341246?l=theirfather.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/feeds/2270308402727341246/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13281854&amp;postID=2270308402727341246' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/2270308402727341246'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/2270308402727341246'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/2006/09/warning.html' title='Warning'/><author><name>Jon</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13281854.post-5737982252390767112</id><published>2006-09-07T09:08:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-09-07T09:27:27.437-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Boys'/><title type='text'>Triplets?</title><content type='html'>Maybe it's just the hat...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://i50.photobucket.com/albums/f304/mom2princes/M18Josh.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://i50.photobucket.com/albums/f304/mom2princes/th_M18Josh.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://i50.photobucket.com/albums/f304/mom2princes/waterbabywpage.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://i50.photobucket.com/albums/f304/mom2princes/th_waterbabywpage.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://i50.photobucket.com/albums/f304/mom2princes/M28Josh1.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://i50.photobucket.com/albums/f304/mom2princes/th_M28Josh1.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://i50.photobucket.com/albums/f304/mom2princes/joshpark.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://i50.photobucket.com/albums/f304/mom2princes/th_joshpark.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://i50.photobucket.com/albums/f304/mom2princes/cdadayslurpee2.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://i50.photobucket.com/albums/f304/mom2princes/th_cdadayslurpee2.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://i50.photobucket.com/albums/f304/mom2princes/M18Josh1.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://i50.photobucket.com/albums/f304/mom2princes/th_M18Josh1.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://i50.photobucket.com/albums/f304/mom2princes/DCP_3774-1.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://i50.photobucket.com/albums/f304/mom2princes/th_DCP_3774-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://i50.photobucket.com/albums/f304/mom2princes/OutsideGrass.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://i50.photobucket.com/albums/f304/mom2princes/th_OutsideGrass.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13281854-5737982252390767112?l=theirfather.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/feeds/5737982252390767112/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13281854&amp;postID=5737982252390767112' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/5737982252390767112'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/5737982252390767112'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/2006/09/triplets.html' title='Triplets?'/><author><name>Jon</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13281854.post-7951850640661365598</id><published>2006-09-06T06:44:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-09-06T06:45:07.891-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Jokes'/><title type='text'>Think of a Number</title><content type='html'>Think of a number.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Multiply it by 3.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now add 5.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take away the number you first thought of.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now add 7.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Subtract 2.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Add back the number you first thought of.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, close your eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dark, isn't it?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13281854-7951850640661365598?l=theirfather.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/feeds/7951850640661365598/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13281854&amp;postID=7951850640661365598' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/7951850640661365598'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/7951850640661365598'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/2006/09/think-of-number.html' title='Think of a Number'/><author><name>Jon</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13281854.post-115712934615490933</id><published>2006-09-01T10:39:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-09-01T10:49:06.203-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Surveys'/><title type='text'>Friday's Feast</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Appetizer &lt;br /&gt;What are some lyrics you have misheard (such as, instead of "Gettin' Jiggy With It" you heard "Kick a chicken with it")?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember fighting for months with my family that the commercial said, "Two scoops of raisins in a KEBBLE of Kellog's Raisin Bran". I have know idea what I thought that meant but darn it, I was right!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Soup &lt;br /&gt;What is the worst movie you have ever seen?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Upon the recommendation of a former boss (whose opinions have become far less important to me), I watched &lt;i&gt;The Royal Tenenbaums&lt;/i&gt;. Well, the first 20 minutes or so. I didn't get it at all. I quickly stuck it back in the case and returned it to the movie store.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Salad &lt;br /&gt;Using the letters from your favorite number, write a sentence. Example: Tomorrow has really easy experiences.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes even very extroverted neighbours tell everyone's extra news.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Main Course &lt;br /&gt;What was the most interesting news story you have heard this week?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Donald Trump fired his apprentice co-host Carolyn. Not at all important in terms of real life, but interesting nonetheless. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Dessert &lt;br /&gt;Which word(s) would you choose to describe your wardrobe?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Business Casual, Slightly Too Small&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13281854-115712934615490933?l=theirfather.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/feeds/115712934615490933/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13281854&amp;postID=115712934615490933' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/115712934615490933'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/115712934615490933'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/2006/09/fridays-feast.html' title='Friday&apos;s Feast'/><author><name>Jon</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13281854.post-115655583386975605</id><published>2006-08-25T19:28:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-08-25T19:30:33.870-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Boys'/><title type='text'>Milestones</title><content type='html'>Daniel:  buckled his own seatbelt all by himself today - twice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Josh: rode two rollercoasters today (details to follow)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Andrew: is now able to sit on the floor by himself and play with his blocks&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sniff. My boys are growing up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13281854-115655583386975605?l=theirfather.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/feeds/115655583386975605/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13281854&amp;postID=115655583386975605' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/115655583386975605'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/115655583386975605'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/2006/08/milestones.html' title='Milestones'/><author><name>Jon</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13281854.post-115655570406240970</id><published>2006-08-25T19:26:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-08-25T19:28:24.076-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Boys'/><title type='text'>Reflection</title><content type='html'>Daniel was sitting on the floor looking Andrew in the eyes. He recognized something and said, (quoting Larry-Boy from Leggo My Ego) "He's just a cheap copy of me!" I laughed so hard. It's not nice, and Andrew's not cheap but he is indeed a near perfect copy of Daniel.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13281854-115655570406240970?l=theirfather.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/feeds/115655570406240970/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13281854&amp;postID=115655570406240970' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/115655570406240970'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/115655570406240970'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/2006/08/reflection.html' title='Reflection'/><author><name>Jon</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13281854.post-115644510940654735</id><published>2006-08-24T12:36:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-08-24T12:45:09.420-06:00</updated><title type='text'>More!</title><content type='html'>Who needs official sign language programs? Andrew is coming up with signs on his own.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amber noticed him doing "bottle" yesterday. He puts his hands together like praying and  brings them up to his mouth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning I was feeding him applesauce at breakfast and before and after every bite he was signing either, "This stuff is really good Daddy. I love it. I am so excited. Can I have another bite" or maybe it was just "more". He was flapping both his arms down from the shoulders like he was trying to fly. He did it every bite until he had enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was saying, "More?" and he'd flap again and smile so big because I understood what he wanted. So cute.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13281854-115644510940654735?l=theirfather.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/feeds/115644510940654735/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13281854&amp;postID=115644510940654735' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/115644510940654735'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/115644510940654735'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/2006/08/more.html' title='More!'/><author><name>Jon</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13281854.post-115625917828334387</id><published>2006-08-22T08:46:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-08-22T09:07:11.250-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Treasure Hunters</title><content type='html'>I just needed to write a quick update on last night's finale of Treasure Hunters. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I stuck with this show from the beginning. Even when the critics panned it. Even when the host of the &lt;a href="http://www.rffradio.com" target="_blank"&gt;"Longest running reality TV podcast on the internet"&lt;/a&gt; refused to cover the show saying it should be canceled and the remaining episodes would be aired on NBC's website. Even when Global TV aired episode 4 before episode 3. However the finale was just painful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The most ironically named team in reality TV, the "Geniuses", somehow pulled out a win. After sitting in a crypt for 8 hours with the other two teams, Genius Francis figured out the code, winning himself and his two goober friends 3 million dollars. So much of the game depended on luck and dumb luck at that. It would have been just as good for the teams to play a game of Rock, Paper, Scissors on the first episode and get it over with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The live reunion show was the most painful part to watch. Host Laird "Motorola" Macintosh proved he has a body and isn't just an animatronic bust by walking out onto the stage. After spending the season trying to act like Phil Keoghan from The Amazing Race, he tried to channel Jeff Probst from Survivor for this reunion. He asked all the contestants questions about what they learned and how they enjoyed the game. Except he was reading from cards in his hand and randomly skipping from one group to another, completely ignoring everything they were saying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The funniest part was when his programmers snuck in the Julie Chenbot &lt;a href="http://http://www.tvgasm.com/archives/big_brother/001211.php" target="_blank"&gt; "But first..." &lt;/a&gt; algorithms from Big Brother. The first time he did it, I smiled at Amber, but by the 6th time or so it was just sad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't think I've ever looked forward to Survivor and Amazing Race more.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13281854-115625917828334387?l=theirfather.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/feeds/115625917828334387/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13281854&amp;postID=115625917828334387' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/115625917828334387'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/115625917828334387'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/2006/08/treasure-hunters.html' title='Treasure Hunters'/><author><name>Jon</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13281854.post-115617810980287726</id><published>2006-08-21T10:30:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-08-21T10:35:09.816-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Good Eaters</title><content type='html'>Our boys were always such good eaters as babies - as toddlers, they don't do so well. I've noticed it again with Andrew. He has always been excited to try new things, from bottles to cereals to vegetables. He doesn't spit it out and throw it all over the dining room the way you see in the movies. He sits quietly and opens his mouth when he sees food coming. The only thing is that he gets a little worked up and excited when we take too long. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Daniel is back to eating normally again but Josh is still in his hibernation stage. I'm not sure if he's more like a bear or a camel, but he'll eat straight for about 12 hours. Always asking for more food. Then he won't touch his food for 3 or 4 days. It seems to work for him, so we're letting it go. Daniel grew out of it and I'm sure Andrew will grow into it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13281854-115617810980287726?l=theirfather.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/feeds/115617810980287726/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13281854&amp;postID=115617810980287726' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/115617810980287726'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/115617810980287726'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/2006/08/good-eaters.html' title='Good Eaters'/><author><name>Jon</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13281854.post-115610383206729179</id><published>2006-08-20T13:44:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-08-20T13:57:12.080-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Just brothers</title><content type='html'>The boys are starting to look so much alike. Andrew looks almost identical to Daniel when he was 6 months old, so I have a feeling they'll be triplet teenagers. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We've mentioned it a few times before. &lt;a href="http://theirfather.blogspot.com/2006/01/twins.html" target="_blank"&gt;Here&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://theirfather.blogspot.com/2006/07/twins.html" target="_blank"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;, and &lt;a href="http://ambermcinnis.blogspot.com/2006/08/maybe-they-are-twins.html" target="_blank"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;, but people often ask if the boys are twins. It's gotten to a new level now though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was out shopping with Daniel and Josh the other day. We were standing at the till and an older lady in line behind us looked at them and said, "Cute boys."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;"Thank you."&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Are they twins?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trying to pay and talk to the cashier at the same time, I just said, &lt;i&gt;"No"&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Daniel helped out by sighing and saying with a bit of impatience, "We're four and two".&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13281854-115610383206729179?l=theirfather.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/feeds/115610383206729179/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13281854&amp;postID=115610383206729179' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/115610383206729179'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/115610383206729179'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/2006/08/just-brothers.html' title='Just brothers'/><author><name>Jon</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13281854.post-115583007875053325</id><published>2006-08-17T09:53:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-08-17T09:54:38.750-06:00</updated><title type='text'>A thought?</title><content type='html'>The "problem" with today's society, is that; (no one) knows how, to punctuate correctly, anymore?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13281854-115583007875053325?l=theirfather.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/feeds/115583007875053325/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13281854&amp;postID=115583007875053325' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/115583007875053325'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/115583007875053325'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/2006/08/thought.html' title='A thought?'/><author><name>Jon</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13281854.post-115548924291265766</id><published>2006-08-13T10:32:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2006-08-13T11:14:03.056-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Rough night,  nice morning</title><content type='html'>So, we're out camping this weekend. We came out to a little campground in Southern Alberta to hang out with Amber's family. Our 5 plus Amber's parents slept in a camper that "sleeps" 5 or 6. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Andrew was up all night. He was "sleeping" between his parents and seemed to cry every 5 minutes all night. We were trapped on a shelf and couldn't get out without stomping on the older ones. We finally got him a diaper and something from a dropper and he started to doze off, then Joshie woke up. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's amazing how well D and J did though. They can tune out a crying baby as well as they tune out nagging parents. Daniel didn't move all night, but once Josh was up, he couldn't get back to sleep and I knew it was only a matter of time before he said those magic words, "I have to go pee!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, we got up and got our shoes and coats on and found our way to the "stinky room" outhouse. When we got back, we were both wide awake. I checked the time: 5:50. It felt like it was about 10•C so we started a fire and just hung out together for a while. We talked and ate some snacks and built up the fire. After a while he got a little chilly and I sent him back to bed. I brought out my book and read for a bit until Daniel woke up - maybe 15 minutes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;D came out and we had our time together. We read bible stories, did fire experiments and talked about the moon. Once the sun came out, Daniel went to go play in the sandbox. I was sitting in front of the fire with the sun starting to warm everything up. I had my own little worship time in God's beautiful creation and thought, "I could do this kind of camping."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then other people woke up. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13281854-115548924291265766?l=theirfather.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/feeds/115548924291265766/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13281854&amp;postID=115548924291265766' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/115548924291265766'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/115548924291265766'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/2006/08/rough-night-nice-morning.html' title='Rough night,  nice morning'/><author><name>Jon</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13281854.post-115517559601627426</id><published>2006-08-09T20:01:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-08-09T20:06:36.016-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Just following orders</title><content type='html'>We went to the mall today and while Amber and Andrew went off on their own, the boys and I were checking out cool stuff at Future Shop. The boys saw some cool flashing LEDs in the car stereo department and were immediately drawn to them. We looked at them for a bit and then we were about to leave. I took Josh's hand and started walking away. I heard a thud, thud, thud. It sounded like Daniel had turned on a subwoofer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I look back and see him haul back and smack the centre of a 12 inch speaker with his fist. Thud! I was in shock. He hit it again and I ran to him and said, "Daniel! Don't hit that. What are you doing?" He looks up at me and I get a better look at the speaker.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3011/1119/1600/Punch-subwoofer.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3011/1119/320/Punch-subwoofer.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I couldn't help but laugh. He saw a word, read it, and followed directions. I guess he thought it was like a button to push or something.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13281854-115517559601627426?l=theirfather.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/feeds/115517559601627426/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13281854&amp;postID=115517559601627426' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/115517559601627426'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/115517559601627426'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/2006/08/just-following-orders.html' title='Just following orders'/><author><name>Jon</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13281854.post-115517490825105058</id><published>2006-08-09T19:49:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-08-09T19:57:32.066-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Boys Arguing</title><content type='html'>Daniel and Josh were playing cars in the basement and getting along fine. They have a few Happy Meal toys from the Cars movie they saw with Grandma and Grandpa. All of a sudden Josh starts crying and comes over to me saying, "Daddy! I crying cars queen calling cars Daniel didn't (gasp) calling not right (sob) him cars not the queen (sniff)"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;"Ummm... what Joshie?"&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Daniel comes over to explain, &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;"Joshie was saying this guy isn't Lighting McQueen. He called him something else."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Josh replied, "Daddy, he is not Lemmy LeQueen. He is Conrad!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;"He's Conrad?"&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;"No he's Lightning McQueen, Joshie! Don't call him Conrad!"&lt;/span&gt; Daniel argued.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Josh looked up at me with a tear streaked face, "Daddy. Him is Conrad."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I then had to have my first (of many I'm sure) conversation with Daniel where I explain to him that even though he's right, it doesn't help to argue about it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13281854-115517490825105058?l=theirfather.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/feeds/115517490825105058/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13281854&amp;postID=115517490825105058' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/115517490825105058'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/115517490825105058'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/2006/08/boys-arguing.html' title='Boys Arguing'/><author><name>Jon</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13281854.post-115513693613460534</id><published>2006-08-09T09:05:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-08-09T16:56:08.460-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Treasure Hunters vs. Amazing Race</title><content type='html'>I'm not only a Dad, but I'm a bit of a reality TV geek. I got into The Amazing Race towards the end of season 7, but thanks to GSN and OLN, I've been able to catch many of the older seasons.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This summer I've been watching a show that at first glance seems to be comparable to The Amazing Race, Treasure Hunters. As Treasure Hunters gears up for its season (and most likely, series) finale, I decided to make a few notes of comparison between the two. For those of you who haven't seen either of these, you may not get any of this, but with the internet as big as it is, perhaps someone will appreciate this analysis.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Phil Keoghan vs Laird MacIntosh&lt;/span&gt;: TAR's host is known for being somewhat stiff when announcing the tasks and when greeting the teams at the end of each leg, but he can communicate so much emotion with just one raised eyebrow. He's even been seen to dance at times. TH's "host" only communicates with the teams via "Motorola messages", video clips on their shamelessly plugged Motorola RAZRs. He is a complete robot who shows absolutely no emotion or charisma. This week he mentioned that if it weren't for historical American shipping magnate, Stephen Girard, "we would have lost the War of 1812 and I would be speaking to you with an... ... English accent". I'm sure it wouldn't take much to adjust his programming to give him an English accent, I think it would suit him better anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) &lt;b&gt;Competition&lt;/b&gt;: On TAR, the teams are in a RACE. They compete against each other to solve clues, find places, complete tasks, and get where they need to be as fast as possible. Occasionally two teams will share information or a cab - but only so far as it benefits them. TH teams seem to be more interested in helping each other than in winning. They complain about the few teams who had been playing to win. I don't understand how you can play a game for a tie. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. &lt;B&gt;Rules&lt;/b&gt;: TH seems to be making up the rules as they go along. In an early episode, one team had to drop out because a member hurt her leg - the producers brought back the team who had previously been eliminated. One week later a member of that resurrected team hurt his leg and the producers allowed the team to continue the race without him. I'm not one to believe in conspiracies, but it really seems like they change the rules to benefit the teams they like. On TAR, the rules seem to be consistent and are explained up front.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. &lt;B&gt;Evil Christians&lt;/b&gt;: 0n TAR: Family Edition, there was a team who constantly flaunted their Christianity by praying loudly and declaring themselves superior. They mocked other teams, lied and did what they could to win. The other teams couldn't stand them or wait foir them to lose. On TH we have the Fogal family, a pastor, his wife and grown daughter. They stole, lied, sent other teams on a wld goose chase. The other teams were fooled into helping them for a while but daughter Kayte's constant screaming, whining, and overdramatic antics eventually led the other teams to coin the phrase, "We just got Fogaled" to mean that they had been tricked, duped, or just had a really bad bout of bad luck. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. &lt;B&gt;Dominant teams&lt;/b&gt;: Last season's Amazing Race had the same two teams battling for first and second place in almost every leg. No matter how many artificial equalizers the producers inserted, BJ &amp; Tyler and Eric &amp; Jeremy dominated nearly every challenge and every leg and ended up being the top 2 teams at the end. On Treasure Hunters, Team Air Force has led nearly every leg and looks like they can't be beaten. Coincidentally (or not), they are the one team who has consistently avoided these silly alliances and sharing answers to the puzzles. I would count on them to win the grand prize next week. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, it's been a nice summer diversion and even though it is a mere shadow of The Amazing Race, I've really enjoyed Treasure Hunters. It has had so many moments of unintentional humour. I'll take it for what it was and look forward to the crown jewels of reality TV, TAR and Survivor, starting up in about a month or so. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now back to your regularly scheduled cute kid stories.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13281854-115513693613460534?l=theirfather.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/feeds/115513693613460534/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13281854&amp;postID=115513693613460534' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/115513693613460534'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/115513693613460534'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/2006/08/treasure-hunters-vs-amazing-race.html' title='Treasure Hunters vs. Amazing Race'/><author><name>Jon</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13281854.post-115370418226654362</id><published>2006-07-23T19:20:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-07-23T19:23:02.306-06:00</updated><title type='text'>What's with people?</title><content type='html'>I work for a cell phone company doing tech support over the phone. It amazes me how many people will call in with a problem with their cell phone and when I say,  "Can I get your phone number please so I can look up your account," they reply, "My cell phone number?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do these people do this everywhere? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Waiter: What would you like to drink?&lt;br /&gt;Bonehead: For ME to drink? With my meal?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Doctor: And what seems to be the problem today?&lt;br /&gt;Bonehead: With my medical problems?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;911 Operator:  And what is the address of the fire?&lt;br /&gt;Bonehead: My box number? My email address? The address of my first girlfriend?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At least it makes for an interesting night&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13281854-115370418226654362?l=theirfather.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/feeds/115370418226654362/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13281854&amp;postID=115370418226654362' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/115370418226654362'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/115370418226654362'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/2006/07/whats-with-people.html' title='What&apos;s with people?'/><author><name>Jon</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13281854.post-115360099075649344</id><published>2006-07-22T14:14:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-07-22T15:26:12.443-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Daniel's Birthday</title><content type='html'>We are a little behind in our blogging but there are a few "Adventures" that we need to get down before we forget.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Daniel had his birthday at the end of June and because he had so many people he wanted to invite, we decided to go with two different parties. The first was right on his birthday and we had all of his grandparents, uncles, and cousins come to our place. I burned a huge pile of hamburgers and Amber made a cake. We had 7 boys there from 0 to 7 tearing around and having lots of fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We got Daniel bunkbeds and we put them together earlier in the week. I had wanted to put it together during the party but D was too excited and couldn't wait, so we did it together. Amber already put up some pictures of that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About a week later we had another party at the park. This is something of a tradition for us. Daniel has had a Calgary park birthday party for the last 4 years. He invited his whole preschool class as well as a bunch of other friends. We figured with siblings and parents, the guest list could end up well over 100 people.  It ended up about 20 something total and was a great little party. The kids raced around in the field and in the trees. We had painting, snacks, games, presents and lots of fun. We ended up hanging out with some new friends at the pool for an hour or more afterwards and it was another great day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm posting this from my work device on my lunch break so I don't have access to any pictures right now but I'll have Amber post some links soon.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13281854-115360099075649344?l=theirfather.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/feeds/115360099075649344/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13281854&amp;postID=115360099075649344' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/115360099075649344'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/115360099075649344'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/2006/07/daniels-birthday.html' title='Daniel&apos;s Birthday'/><author><name>Jon</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13281854.post-115359670932145484</id><published>2006-07-22T13:31:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-07-22T13:31:49.336-06:00</updated><title type='text'>New Study</title><content type='html'>A South American scientist from Argentina, after a lengthy study, has discovered that people with "IBA" or insufficient brain activity read blogs with their hand on the mouse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't bother taking it off now, it's too late…&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13281854-115359670932145484?l=theirfather.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/feeds/115359670932145484/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13281854&amp;postID=115359670932145484' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/115359670932145484'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/115359670932145484'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/2006/07/new-study.html' title='New Study'/><author><name>Jon</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13281854.post-115290915334281817</id><published>2006-07-14T14:18:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-07-14T14:32:33.450-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Stampede Party Pooper</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3011/1119/1600/1390.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3011/1119/200/1390.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know this might get me kicked out of the city, but I just have to say it. I don't like the Calgary Stampede.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't drink. I don't like crowds. Cowboy boots, long sleeve shirts, and jeans in 30 degree weather don't make sense to me. I like to use my money wisely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The average person in Calgary (native or tourist) spends hundreds of dollars during the 10 days of Stampede. I couldn't find the current quotes but I know that when we've gone to the grounds for one day, Amber and I will usually spend over a hundred bucks on parking, admission, a few rides, and some food. And that's not including the shows, bars, clothing, etc that people spend their money on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm proud to say that we have spent exactly zero dollars on the Stampede this year (possibly less). We went to the free Stampede breakfast at church and had a nice time dressing up and eating pancakes outside in the beautiful sunshine, listening to some live country music. We even got a few Subway gift certificates out of the deal thanks to Daniel and Josh's cute galloping on their cardboard tube horses. And today, I got to partake of a free barbecue at work. The Delta Bow Valley hotel came by and brought corn, slow roasted beef, and succulent beef ribs. So good. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really don't mind the music - and free food is always nice - but I think for the next few years (until the boys can appreciate it) we may be skipping out on Stampede, either figuratively or literally. We're taking the money we've saved and spending the weekend at a hotel in Lethbridge. We haven't had even a weekend vacation since we got back from Nakusp in early November, so I'm sure we will appreciate it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13281854-115290915334281817?l=theirfather.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/feeds/115290915334281817/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13281854&amp;postID=115290915334281817' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/115290915334281817'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/115290915334281817'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/2006/07/stampede-party-pooper.html' title='Stampede Party Pooper'/><author><name>Jon</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13281854.post-115284591221732701</id><published>2006-07-13T20:53:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-07-13T21:02:10.463-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Friday's Feast</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Appetizer &lt;br /&gt;Name one thing nice that you could do for someone else today.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just spent 40 minutes helping an old guy set up his hotmail address on his phone when I shouldn't have. It's not something we support but he was so confused and I thought I could give him a hand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Soup &lt;br /&gt;When was the last time you were frightened by the weather?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't remember ever being scared of the weather. We get hail, blizzards, floods out here but I always am amazed at God's wonderful power. I haven't been in a hurricane or tornado - I think I might have a different answer then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Salad &lt;br /&gt;What would you say is the most useful website or blog that you visit&lt;/strong&gt;?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love Amber's website but the two most useful blogs to me are TVGasm.com and TechDirt.com&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Main Course &lt;br /&gt;Who was your favorite singer/group when you were a child?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Valdy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Dessert &lt;br /&gt;Do you have any rituals? If so, what are they?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With my schedule being so weird, it's tough to have rituals.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13281854-115284591221732701?l=theirfather.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/feeds/115284591221732701/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13281854&amp;postID=115284591221732701' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/115284591221732701'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/115284591221732701'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/2006/07/fridays-feast.html' title='Friday&apos;s Feast'/><author><name>Jon</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13281854.post-115271897918061040</id><published>2006-07-12T09:21:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-07-12T09:42:59.336-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Twins?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3011/1119/1600/TWINS.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3011/1119/200/TWINS.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last week Daniel was in swimming lessons with Amber, and this week it's Josh's turn. The pool is near the library and a couple parks so I have been taking the other two boys on various adventures during swimming.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last week, Josh and I found a pretty cool park about a block away. There were slides and ladders and a climbing rock. Josh also met a 7-year old boy who was having fun playing tag (or Tickle Monster) with him. Josh chased him around the park for about 20 minutes until it was time for us to go get Daniel. This led to a very interesting situation when Daniel, Andrew and I showed up there yesterday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The same boy was there and he recognized me and Andrew's carseat and therefore, recognized "Josh". Daniel ran up to the play structure to see what he could do and the little boy jumped out from behind the steps and yelled, "Raaaaarh!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Daniel looked at him, and then looked at me and kept climbing. He was running over the bridge and the boy climbed up behind him and said, "Wanna play Tickle Monster?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Daniel looked at this stranger and said, "No!" This went on for a while with the little guy chasing his former friend around trying to figure out why he wasn't as fun as last week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Daniel came running to me and said, &lt;b&gt;"That boy is trying to catch me"&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: &lt;i&gt;"I think he thinks you are Josh. He and Josh were playing here last week and he thinks you are him.&lt;/i&gt;" Daniel looks confused but runs away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Little boy: "I don't think that. I know he's Josh"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: &lt;i&gt;"No, that's Josh's brother. It's a different boy."&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Daniel (yelling from across the park): &lt;b&gt;"I'm not Josh. I was in swimming lessons and now it's Josh's turn. He's not here&lt;/b&gt;"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Boy: "Oh, they look the same."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: &lt;i&gt;"Yes, they do look very similar"&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Boy: "I didn't know they were twins"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: &lt;i&gt;"No, they aren't twins. They just look alike"&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Confused Boy (chasing after Daniel): "Wanna play Tickle Monster?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13281854-115271897918061040?l=theirfather.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/feeds/115271897918061040/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13281854&amp;postID=115271897918061040' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/115271897918061040'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/115271897918061040'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/2006/07/twins.html' title='Twins?'/><author><name>Jon</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13281854.post-115219810788994778</id><published>2006-07-06T08:15:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-07-22T15:52:37.500-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Where's Joshie?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3011/1119/1600/Waldo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3011/1119/200/Waldo.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The last couple nights have been rough for the boys. I've been working late so Amber's alone with them. It's hot so they have trouble sleeping and don't feel like eating supper so they're hungry at bed time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I got home at about 10 last night, they were still up and being loud. Daniel kept coming out and asking for food. We kept sending him back to bed. Josh was being quiet, so I assumed he was asleep. I went in to check on him and he wasn't on his bed. There was a glow under his bed and he was laying on the floor way under it by the wall. Fast asleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3011/1119/1600/sleepyjosh1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3011/1119/400/sleepyjosh1.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Theory Number One:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His flashlight is stuck between the wall and his bed, shining down under the bed. Josh crawled under the bed to get it and fell asleep before he got it out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I asked Daniel why Josh was under his bed. He said, "I put his flashlight there so he could see." The flashlight was tucked into the cross boards of the bed and actually pointing at him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Theory Number Two:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Josh crawled under his bed for some reason - to escape from Daniel's relentless crying and screaming? And he fell asleep. Then Daniel... brought his flashlight under so... Josh wouldn't be in the dark...? Theory Number Two needs work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, Amber managed to get Josh out from under his bed before she went to bed and got him back up on top.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When Josh woke up this morning, I asked him, "&lt;i&gt;Josh, when I came home last night, you weren't sleeping on your bed. Do you know where you were?&lt;/i&gt;"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah, under my bed"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;"Why were you under your bed?"&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Daniel and me went under my bed with the flashlight. We were having a venture. We readed our books under my bed"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now that I look at my pictures again, I can see the flashlight tucked into the bars and a book under his head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3011/1119/1600/sleepyjosh2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3011/1119/400/sleepyjosh2.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Theory Number Three:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Josh and Daniel crawled under his bed together for a "venture". They were reading books and camping. Daniel tucked the flashlight in so they could see. When Daniel left to come and cry and whine about having to pee and being hungry, Josh fell asleep waiting for him. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Makes sense... I guess&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13281854-115219810788994778?l=theirfather.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/feeds/115219810788994778/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13281854&amp;postID=115219810788994778' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/115219810788994778'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/115219810788994778'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/2006/07/wheres-joshie.html' title='Where&apos;s Joshie?'/><author><name>Jon</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13281854.post-115203076457237552</id><published>2006-07-04T10:18:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-07-04T13:20:00.000-06:00</updated><title type='text'>He said, he said, he said</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3011/1119/1600/speech%20bubble.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3011/1119/200/speech%20bubble.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My lovely &lt;a href="http://ambermcinnis.blogspot.com" target="_blank"&gt;wife &lt;/a&gt; wanted me to start this post off by telling you that she has dropped off the face of the earth. She was trying to post daily adventures and that lasted about a week. And now with swimming lessons, birthday parties, and scrapbooking, she seems to have vanished. When she's back, she'll post again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, on with our story...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The boys have been talking so much, I wanted to post an update on their progress.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Andrew:&lt;/span&gt; He said, "Mama!" for the first time this week. He kept repeating it to see Amber smile and giggle. It won't be long before he's running around and yelling with his brothers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Josh:&lt;/span&gt; His grammar is really improving. He tries so hard to get things just right. He recently came to me in the morning and said, "Daddy, I wake... I waked... I WOKE up." It's cute that not only does he know there are rules for speech, but he thinks they are important.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Daniel:&lt;/span&gt; He is starting to grasp the concept of time. Until recently, he would place random "time" phrases in his sentences like "Last year I had pizza. I watched that movie a week ago." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But yesterday was the best one. He turned 4 on Thursday and that was a big thing for him. He's been waiting for it for months now. Anyway, we were going out and instead of putting on his sandals, he got his hiking boots out. I figured it couldn't hurt anything, so I let him put them on. He told me, "Daddy, these aren't my sandals. They are my boots. My Bob the Builder hiking boots... from when I was three."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's it for now. We'll see who posts next... ;)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13281854-115203076457237552?l=theirfather.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/feeds/115203076457237552/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13281854&amp;postID=115203076457237552' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/115203076457237552'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/115203076457237552'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/2006/07/he-said-he-said-he-said.html' title='He said, he said, he said'/><author><name>Jon</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13281854.post-115177506297373482</id><published>2006-07-01T09:01:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-07-01T11:31:03.056-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Feast One Hundred</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3011/1119/1600/lib_Party_Balloons.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3011/1119/200/lib_Party_Balloons.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Appetizer &lt;br /&gt;On average, approximately how many times per day do you yawn?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On days when I'm working till 11pm, it's a couple dozen. Sunday afternoons are good for a few. But usually maybe 1 or 2.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Soup&lt;br /&gt;What was your most memorable school field trip?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been on lots but I think my most memorable was Hawaii in 93. I went with my high school band and it was my first big trip away from my family and the first of 5 international trips in the next 3 years. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Salad &lt;br /&gt;Fill in the blank: I was extremely __________________ this week.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BUSY....and HOT&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Main Course &lt;br /&gt;Which color do you think of when you hear the word "soothing"?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lavender. I'm not sure why.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Dessert &lt;br /&gt;What is something that, if you had to, you could save up the money to buy within one month?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pretty much anything. I've been amazed at how we can scrimp and find extra money. God is so good. Something that we found the money for this month was bunk beds.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13281854-115177506297373482?l=theirfather.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/feeds/115177506297373482/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13281854&amp;postID=115177506297373482' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/115177506297373482'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/115177506297373482'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/2006/07/feast-one-hundred.html' title='Feast One Hundred'/><author><name>Jon</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13281854.post-115176603898853858</id><published>2006-07-01T08:50:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-07-01T09:00:39.006-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Doctor Visit</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3011/1119/1600/dr.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3011/1119/200/dr.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took Andrew and Daniel to the doctor last week (I know I'm late in posting but it's been a busy week so forgive me). Daniel was going for his 4-year-old checkup and Andrew had a suspected ear infection.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They were both in great shape. Andrew apparently has just discovered his ears and when he's yanking on them, it's normal 5 month old curiosity. Daniel is doing all the stuff a kid his age should be doing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Daniel wouldn't leave until the doctor checked his mouth. Apparently last time we went to the doctor, he didn't get to say, "Aaaaah!" and it bugged him for a while. In his mind, that is one of the most important parts of a doctor visit. So, Dr. Thomas checked his tongue and teeth and D was happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He impressed the doctor and the resident with his reading. She asked me if I thought he was ready for school and I responded by having Daniel read a poster on the wall that had words like "affect", "bacteria" and "antibiotics". He sounded out the words he didn't know and suprised even me. It's amazing how his mind is growing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are so blessed to have healthy kids. I thank God for them and also for the medical community we have available to us should anything happen. I'm not sure how all the proposed changes to health care will proceed, but I know that our family is well taken care of.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13281854-115176603898853858?l=theirfather.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/feeds/115176603898853858/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13281854&amp;postID=115176603898853858' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/115176603898853858'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/115176603898853858'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/2006/07/doctor-visit.html' title='Doctor Visit'/><author><name>Jon</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13281854.post-115017218712215807</id><published>2006-06-12T21:33:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-06-13T07:40:12.720-06:00</updated><title type='text'>12 of 12</title><content type='html'>Well, here's another go at 12 of 12. Twelve pictures of June 12 in my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3011/1119/1600/01earlymorning.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3011/1119/320/01earlymorning.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, that's not a mistake. That's approximately what time our day started. Amber blogged about our &lt;a href="http://ambermcinnis.blogspot.com/2006/06/what-night.html" target="_blank"&gt;rough night&lt;/a&gt; earlier today but here's my details. Josh couldn't fall asleep last night. After several hours of trying and coming out to see us, at 1:47 we finally brought him into our bed. After an hour of him flailing about I took him back to his bed just in time to hear Andrew wake up. Amber nursed him while I tried to get a little more sleep until about&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3011/1119/1600/02wakingup.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3011/1119/320/02wakingup.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got up with Andrew and took him to the living room for a bottle. I laid him on his play mat while I went to go make a bottle. When I had finished, he was looking so happy, I let him lay there giggling while I did up some dishes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3011/1119/1600/03andrew.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3011/1119/320/03andrew.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He fell asleep shortly before Daniel woke up and came out to visit. I made Daniel and I breakfast and he said, "Daddy, that breakfast looks good. You know what else is good? Chess!" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I started teaching him chess this week and he loves it. He wants to play all the time now. It's ridiculous. The kid isn't even four yet - is there anything he &lt;i&gt;can't&lt;/i&gt; do? So anyway, we eat our breakfast and start a game of chess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3011/1119/1600/04chess.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3011/1119/320/04chess.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As you can see, we have had to replace one of the white knights with Junior Asparagus from the VeggieTales &lt;i&gt;Sumo of the Opera&lt;/i&gt; playset. We have a pretty messy basement (as you would remember from last month's 12 of 12) and it's gonna take us time to find that missing little plastic horse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, Joshie woke up and was helping Daniel - by picking up the pieces off the floor and continually calling out "Corners Daniel, corners!" Andrew also woke up and he sat on my lap and helped out the white side.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Daniel's just starting to understand planning moves. He rarely sees beyond the move he's making but sometimes he surprises me. I help him out a bit and somehow he ended up with me in checkmate. He actually looks kind of upset that the game is over - even though he won.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3011/1119/1600/05checkmate.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3011/1119/320/05checkmate.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I headed off to work. Here are a few pictures of my workspace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3011/1119/1600/06cubefarm.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3011/1119/320/06cubefarm.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is my cube farm. My jacket is the second one you see there. All those windows let in quite a bit of natural light during the day, and the airvent you see over my desk lets in a few dead tiny fleas that I get to brush off my desktop every day before I start work. Maybe I could save them in a jar and sell them to a guy with a gecko.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3011/1119/1600/07cube.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3011/1119/320/07cube.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's where I sit 5 times per week for 8 hours minus lunch and coffee breaks. It's nice to have my own set space, I really should put up some pictures or something, it's kind of depressing now that I look at it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An interesting thing to note is my water bottle. I won it for having the highest mark in my training class. I go through about 3 of those full of ice water a day. Apparently talking all day and inhaling fleas makes one very thirsty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3011/1119/1600/08work.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3011/1119/320/08work.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's my first picture of me in 12 of 12. This is what I look like at work - if you are my water bottle. Hmmm, the glow from that fluorescent light fixture doesn't look too healthy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3011/1119/1600/09lunch.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3011/1119/320/09lunch.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the first day in over a month that I bought my lunch at work. That chess game  took longer than I expected and I didn't get a chance to make a lunch. So, I drove to the nearby Wendy's and got a delicious Bacon Mushroom Melt. All that gooey cheese sauce with bacon and a greasy square burger - if the radiation from the lights don't get me the transfats will.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3011/1119/1600/10mess.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3011/1119/320/10mess.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I got home the boys celebrated my arrival by emptying their toybox all over the living room. Once I finish up here, I'm gonna go try to get all of that back in the box.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amber left for the evening for some well-deserved girl time. The boys had been rowdy and rough all day. I put them to bed 2 hours ago and I just took this picture. They haven't moved a muscle. Apparently terrorizing one's mother and scattering toys makes one very sleepy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3011/1119/1600/11sleep.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3011/1119/320/11sleep.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I fell asleep on the couch waiting for Amber and Andrew. With TELUS TV, there's always a poker game to be found. Nothing is more surreal than watching Dave Foley from &lt;i&gt;The Kids in the Hall&lt;/i&gt; doing colour commentary on a poker game including Dennis Rodman, Chandler Bing, and Doogie Howser M.D.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3011/1119/1600/12poker.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3011/1119/320/12poker.0.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that was my day in pictures. Why don't you try doing a 12 of 12 next month? You don't need a blog. It's simple to set up a flickr.com account to share photos. I'll try to post a reminder message a little early next month.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13281854-115017218712215807?l=theirfather.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/feeds/115017218712215807/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13281854&amp;postID=115017218712215807' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/115017218712215807'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/115017218712215807'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/2006/06/12-of-12.html' title='12 of 12'/><author><name>Jon</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13281854.post-114930213570402102</id><published>2006-06-02T20:04:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2006-06-02T22:07:41.400-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Brothers First, Brothers Always</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3011/1119/1600/Two%20Bear%20Hug.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3011/1119/200/Two%20Bear%20Hug.gif" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not sure where I heard it - I think it was some nanny show on TV - but it really stuck with me. Brothers first, brothers always. To me it means that no matter what happens, your brother is your brother. Friends come and go but family sticks together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Daniel and Josh have really learned this lesson well. Amber &lt;a href="http://ambermcinnis.blogspot.com/2006/04/brothers-first-brothers-always.html" target="_blank"&gt; blogged&lt;/a&gt; about it a while ago. They just love each other. They are best friends and I can see already that they include Andrew in their circle of brotherhood. It's so sweet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's why this weekend is so hard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Daniel is out of town with Grandpa visiting his great-grandparents. It's his first big trip alone from mom and dad. The boys regularly have sleepovers at Grandma and Grandpa's but this is the first time we are more than a quick drive away and (as far as I can remember) the first time since Joshie was a little baby that they have been apart at night - surely for 2 or 3 nights at a time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been tough on Amber and me too, having our first baby away but we are able to deal with it, but poor Josh. He's not sure what's going on. He said a few times today, "Daniel is lost." We had to remind him where his brother was and that he was OK.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel bad for him but I have no idea how Daniel is dealing with this. I'll write again with his side when he gets back.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13281854-114930213570402102?l=theirfather.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/feeds/114930213570402102/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13281854&amp;postID=114930213570402102' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/114930213570402102'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/114930213570402102'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/2006/06/brothers-first-brothers-always.html' title='Brothers First, Brothers Always'/><author><name>Jon</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13281854.post-114930045022709859</id><published>2006-06-02T20:04:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-06-02T20:07:30.246-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Mobile Blogging</title><content type='html'>I'm trying something new here. I have a new Blackberry from work for the next few weeks and I'm gonna see if I can blog from it, wherever I am. Should be pretty cool.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13281854-114930045022709859?l=theirfather.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/feeds/114930045022709859/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13281854&amp;postID=114930045022709859' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/114930045022709859'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/114930045022709859'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/2006/06/mobile-blogging.html' title='Mobile Blogging'/><author><name>Jon</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13281854.post-114867076179950699</id><published>2006-05-26T13:04:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-05-26T13:12:41.823-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Nice to meet you</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3011/1119/1600/Handshake_2_50.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3011/1119/200/Handshake_2_50.gif" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Josh is our little social butterfly. We thought is was going to be this way but today proved it without a doubt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went to the doctor's office to have Josh checked out for his reflux (which is doing much better now). They have a little play area that had two little boys about 4 years old in it playing with the toys.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Josh immediately headed over there, with Daniel behind him and said, "Hi guys. I'm Josh. This is my friend Daniel. And that's my mommy and daddy and baby. And this is my friend Daniel and my mommy and daddy and baby. Who are you guys?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The slightly older looking one was overwhelmed and a little confused, "Umm.. I'm four"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Josh said, "I'm Josh. Can we play with you guys?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They played well until they boys left and a little girl and her mom came to play. By this time, Daniel was sitting with me reading a book and Josh started helping the little girl with a shape sorter. He was telling her the names of all the shapes and where they go. When it was time for us to go, he said to her, "Okay, thanks for playing with me. I gotta go. Love you. Bye!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's nice that he can make friends so easy. I hope this will be something he keeps as he grows up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13281854-114867076179950699?l=theirfather.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/feeds/114867076179950699/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13281854&amp;postID=114867076179950699' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/114867076179950699'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/114867076179950699'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/2006/05/nice-to-meet-you.html' title='Nice to meet you'/><author><name>Jon</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13281854.post-114860984889058289</id><published>2006-05-25T20:10:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-05-25T20:17:28.903-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Feast Ninety-Five</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3011/1119/1600/200Deluxe-Feast-on-Deep_HI.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3011/1119/200/200Deluxe-Feast-on-Deep_HI.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Appetizer &lt;br /&gt;How old were you when you got your first credit card?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I was 18. I wish I was much older&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Soup &lt;br /&gt;When was the last time you felt out of place?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I went to pick up Daniel from school and was surrounded by all these young mothers with other little kids and no Dads in sight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Salad &lt;br /&gt;Did you have a curfew when you were a teenager? If so, what time did you have to be home?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nope. I think it changed as need be - I was a pretty good kid and usually home at a reasonable time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Main Course &lt;br /&gt;Name a person from history with whom you feel you have something in common.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sat here for the majority of my coffee break thinking of this one and I couldn't think. I feel very normal right now so I probably have a lot in common with billions of people that went before me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Dessert &lt;br /&gt;When you read a newspaper, which section do you go for first? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Comics&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13281854-114860984889058289?l=theirfather.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/feeds/114860984889058289/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13281854&amp;postID=114860984889058289' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/114860984889058289'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/114860984889058289'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/2006/05/feast-ninety-five.html' title='Feast Ninety-Five'/><author><name>Jon</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13281854.post-114858696704053565</id><published>2006-05-25T13:51:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-05-25T13:56:07.063-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Wabbit Season</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3011/1119/1600/dd-efbbsm.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3011/1119/200/dd-efbbsm.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Daniel and Josh love to argue and fight. I've tried to explain to Amber that this is just how boys express their feelings. This might be getting out of hand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was in Daniel's room talking with him, trying to get him to calm down after a busy morning. Josh walked in and said, "Is too!" Daniel instinctively responded, "Is not!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Me: "Is not what? What are you arguing about?"&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Josh: "Is too!"&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Daniel: "Is not!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Josh: "Is too!"&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Daniel: "Is not!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Josh: "Is too!"&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Daniel: "Is not!"&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Me: "You guys don't even know what you are talking about."&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Josh: "Is too!"&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Daniel (in a flash of Bugs Bunny brilliance): "Is too!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Josh (who isn't as familiar with Elmer Fudd cartoons) "Is not!"&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Daniel: "Is too!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Josh: "Is not!"&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This went on for about 4 minutes with Daniel switching the sides a few times. Not that it mattered at all. Neither one knew what they were arguing about but it was fun.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13281854-114858696704053565?l=theirfather.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/feeds/114858696704053565/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13281854&amp;postID=114858696704053565' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/114858696704053565'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/114858696704053565'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/2006/05/wabbit-season.html' title='Wabbit Season'/><author><name>Jon</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13281854.post-114834773429311123</id><published>2006-05-22T19:25:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-05-23T08:41:22.110-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Second Date</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3011/1119/1600/OverTheHedge2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3011/1119/200/OverTheHedge2.0.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last summer Amber and I took Daniel and Josh to see &lt;a href="http://theirfather.blogspot.com/2005/08/first-date.htm" target="_blank"&gt; &lt;i&gt;Madagascar&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/a&gt; and they loved it. It had been quite a while but thought we'd try it again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The boys had been seeing previews and commercials for "Over the Hedge" in the past weeks and were very excited about it. After trying to keep it a surprise for about a week, I ended up telling them where we were going after church. It was a totally unsuccessful disciplinary experiment, but at least I tried something. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So anyways, after church we took Andrew to my parents' place for some Grandma &amp; Grandpa cuddles and Daniel and Josh and Amber and I went to Chinook Centre to the theatre. Last time we went, the movie had been out for a few weeks and the theatre wasn't very busy. This being opening weekend for &lt;i&gt;Over the Hedge&lt;/i&gt; and &lt;i&gt;The Da Vinci Code&lt;/i&gt; it was a pretty packed lobby. We had some passes that I had gotten from work so we saved some money there - but unfortunately Daniel has gone from "Under 3" to "3-12" and therefore now costs $8.95 for a ticket. I can't imagine paying $40+ for our family to see a movie next year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We got our tickets and Daniel announced that he had to go pee. I took the boys to the bathroom while Amber got snacks. We found some seats in the top row (Daniel was voting for the front but got vetoed by Power of Dad). Amber eventually came up the steps with a helper behind her carrying all the popcorn. It may suck having to pay $25 for 15c worth of popcorn and drinks but at least there was a lot. The boys settled in with their buckets and blue slurpees.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The movie was really quite good. We had a few moments of note.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) Daniel made it until about an hour in before having to go to the bathroom. When we got there, there were about a dozen 9-year-olds having a pee race. We got into the stall and heard one of them at the urinals say, "Okay, marks! Get set! Go!" This kind of intimidated Daniel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) An exterminator on the screen said, "Dammit!" Nearly as loud, Daniel said, "Daddy! That guy said 'dammit!'"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3) At the emotional climax, Josh called out, "What is RJ doing? Mommy where is RJ going? What is RJ doing?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4) The three boys needed to go pee one more time at the end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went and picked up Andrew and headed home. Daniel and Josh fell asleep in the van. Since it was so sunny and hot, I took them down to the cool basement and put them on the futon we have set up. This was about 6:00. At midnight, just as I was heading down to check on them, Josh woke up and caused Daniel to wake up too. They came upstairs and slept until 7:00am. Tired little guys.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yet another good movie date with my boys. Maybe we'll take them to the cheap theatre again this summer. $2.50 a piece is much more reasonable. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13281854-114834773429311123?l=theirfather.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/feeds/114834773429311123/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13281854&amp;postID=114834773429311123' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/114834773429311123'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/114834773429311123'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/2006/05/second-date.html' title='Second Date'/><author><name>Jon</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13281854.post-114806940674046913</id><published>2006-05-19T14:07:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-05-23T08:43:40.210-06:00</updated><title type='text'>A new Friday's Feast</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Appetizer &lt;br /&gt;What is the last thing you had to have repaired?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My tires on the van - and those crooks at the Wal-Mart garage didn't get it right so they still need to be done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Soup &lt;br /&gt;If someone gave you $2,000 with the stipulation that you had to spend half of it on yourself and give the rest to charity, where would you spend the $1,000 and which charity would receive your remaining $1,000?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd probably spend the money at FutureShop or Memory Express and give the other to church.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Salad &lt;br /&gt;What is one of your favorite songs from the 1980s?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We Didn't Start the Fire&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Main Course &lt;br /&gt;You enter a pet store. Which section do you go to first?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hamsters&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Dessert &lt;br /&gt;On a scale of 1 to 10 with 10 being highest, how athletic are you?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Zero&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13281854-114806940674046913?l=theirfather.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/feeds/114806940674046913/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13281854&amp;postID=114806940674046913' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/114806940674046913'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/114806940674046913'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/2006/05/new-fridays-feast.html' title='A new Friday&apos;s Feast'/><author><name>Jon</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13281854.post-114757454545058609</id><published>2006-05-13T19:43:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-05-13T20:42:25.466-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Mothers' Day</title><content type='html'>To all the mothers in my life: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;font size=6 color="#C71585"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;Happy Mothers' Day&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;font color="#D02090" face="courier"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; , .-.-,_,&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; )`-.&gt;'` (&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; /&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; `\&amp;nbsp; |&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; |&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; | |&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; \&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; / /&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; `=(\ /.=`&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; `-;`.-'&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; `)|&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; ,&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; ||&amp;nbsp; .-'|&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; ,_||&amp;nbsp; \_,/&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; ,&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; \|| .'&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; |\|\&amp;nbsp; , ||/&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; ,_\` |/| |Y_,&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; '-.'-._\||/&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &gt;_.-`Y|&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; ` .-"||"-.&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; \'----'/&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; |:.&amp;nbsp; |&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; |::. |&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; /::::&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; .:::'&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; '.&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; /:::&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; ;:::'&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; ;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; |:::&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; |&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; |:::&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; |&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; |:::&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; |&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; ;:::&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; ;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; \:::.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; /&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; jgs ':::..&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; .'&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; `""-----""`&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's no job more important than mother and I appreciate all you all do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to get to spend the day with my boys' mom, my mom, my wife's mom, my nephews' mom, and my father's mom - along with countless others. I'll post some of the goings on.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13281854-114757454545058609?l=theirfather.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/feeds/114757454545058609/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13281854&amp;postID=114757454545058609' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/114757454545058609'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/114757454545058609'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/2006/05/happy-mothers-day.html' title='Happy Mothers&apos; Day'/><author><name>Jon</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13281854.post-114748739164304868</id><published>2006-05-12T20:27:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-05-13T07:19:13.893-06:00</updated><title type='text'>12 on 12</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt; A growing trend within the blogosphere is posting twelve pictures of your day on the twelfth of the month. I had a camera-phone for the first part of the day, so the pictures aren't quite as good quality, but it should be fun. Let's go &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3011/1119/1600/1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3011/1119/320/1.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt; This is obviously my alarm clock. I actually woke up at about 6:14 this morning, after a few smacks on the snooze bar, but it was at 6:30 that I remembered I wanted to do 12 on 12 this month. This is actually a little earlier than I normally get up, but I was in bed earlier last night so I felt ready to get going.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;hr /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3011/1119/1600/3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3011/1119/320/3.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt; First thing I did, and usually do, is go to the computer in the office/nursery. I check my Bloglines software for updates to the dozens of blogs I follow and dump all the new episodes of my subscribed podcasts that have come in over the night into my iPod.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;hr /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3011/1119/1600/2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3011/1119/320/2.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;All the clicking and typing caused Andrew to start stirring. I went over to his crib and changed him and just dwelt in his happiness, glee, and joy for a few minutes. He read a few of the blogs with me but when he started drooling on my hand and tried to eat the mouse, I took him in for his Breakfast in Bed.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;hr /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3011/1119/1600/4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3011/1119/320/4.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt; I then went and did the dishes from last night and made myself some breakfast. Instant oatmeal, a leftover doughgod, and milk.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;hr /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3011/1119/1600/5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3011/1119/320/5.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Daniel is always the next one up. He usually gets up around 7:00am when I am about ready to head out for work. If I leave early enough, I can get in a bit of a workout in the weight room, but more often than not, I end up hanging out with the boys for an extra half an hour and then just heading straight to work.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;hr /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3011/1119/1600/6.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3011/1119/320/6.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Josh usually gets up either just before or just after I leave. This morning I got to cuddle with him for a bit in his bed before he went and watched cartoons with Daniel.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;hr /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3011/1119/1600/7drive.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3011/1119/320/7drive.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3011/1119/1600/8train.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3011/1119/320/8train.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;These two are of my drive in to work. There was a semi that flipped over on Deerfoot this morning and blocked up traffic in both directions for miles. Good thing I got going a little early today because I just made it on time.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;hr /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Tonight Amber had a Tupperware party and the older boys went over to Grandpa Bill's for the night, so I took it upon myself to listen to a few podcasts I had been meaning to get to and clean the cyclonic mess of puzzles, toys, and crayons in the basement.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3011/1119/1600/9before.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3011/1119/320/9before.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before&lt;/div&gt; &lt;hr /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3011/1119/1600/10afer.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3011/1119/320/10afer.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;After&lt;/div&gt; &lt;hr /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3011/1119/1600/11.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3011/1119/320/11.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;This was Amber's gift for hosting the Tupperware party. The world's smallest magnetic measuring cups and a salt/pepper shaker that holds more than 8 grains of each.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;I know this is only 11 pictures. I was hoping to post one more by the end of the night, but I crashed on the couch watching poker. 11 will have to do. :)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13281854-114748739164304868?l=theirfather.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/feeds/114748739164304868/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13281854&amp;postID=114748739164304868' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/114748739164304868'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/114748739164304868'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/2006/05/12-on-12.html' title='12 on 12'/><author><name>Jon</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13281854.post-114684650954594402</id><published>2006-05-05T10:22:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-05-05T12:15:32.390-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Fives on 5/5</title><content type='html'>As the people at my work keep reminding me, today is not only &lt;i&gt;Cinqo de Mayo&lt;/i&gt; but it is also &lt;i&gt;International No-Pants Day&lt;/i&gt;. Anyway, to celebrate the first, I will do this list of fives. I will not be celebrating the second.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Five jobs you've had in your life:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wardrobe consultant, telephone operator, forklift driver, music pastor, sports equipment salesman&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Five movies you could watch over and over:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Catch Me If You Can, Ocean's Eleven, Lord of the Rings, Star Trek IV, Down With Love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Five places you've lived:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nakusp, BC ; Calgary, AB ; Regina, SK ; Winnipeg, MB, Kindersley, SK&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Five TV shows you love to watch:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Survivor, Mythbusters, Good Eats, The Simpsons, How It's Made&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Five places you've been on vacation:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hawaii, Bahamas, Paris, Rome, Brandon&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Five websites you visit daily:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Google, Gmail, Bloglines, and work stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Five of your favorite foods:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gyro donairs, pizza, my special stuffed mushrooms, bbq cheeseburgers, slurpees&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Five places you'd rather be:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Home, that's about it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Five albums you can't live without:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could live without them but what I'm listening to now is Chris Tomlin - Arriving, and Brian Doerksen - Today&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13281854-114684650954594402?l=theirfather.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/feeds/114684650954594402/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13281854&amp;postID=114684650954594402' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/114684650954594402'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/114684650954594402'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/2006/05/fives-on-55.html' title='Fives on 5/5'/><author><name>Jon</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13281854.post-114684613915070334</id><published>2006-05-05T10:14:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-05-05T10:22:19.206-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Diner de Vendredi</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Appetizer&lt;br /&gt;From which country(s) are some (or all) of your ancestors?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am 4th or 5th generation Canadian in a lot of my lines. Originally lots from Scotland and Sweden - that explains the boys' blond hair and short fuses.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Soup&lt;br /&gt;How would you describe your sneeze?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let 'er rip!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Salad&lt;br /&gt;What is the last thing you cleaned?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did dishes yesterday morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Main Course&lt;br /&gt;Who made the strongest first impression on you? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The one first impression that is sticking out in my mind shall remain nameless. I met this person several years ago and the conversation went something like this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Him: "So you must be Amber's friend Jon. You've got a bit of a buddha there (rubbing my belly). And how about that male-pattern baldness?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Umm... okay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We eventually got to be friends and once shared a bed - but there was definitely a sheet between us! No touchy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Dessert&lt;br /&gt;Name one thing you want to accomplish in your lifetime. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How sad. I can't think of any goals I have that I haven't accomplished. At least none that don't sound petty and materialistic. How about teach my boys all I know.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13281854-114684613915070334?l=theirfather.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/feeds/114684613915070334/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13281854&amp;postID=114684613915070334' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/114684613915070334'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/114684613915070334'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/2006/05/diner-de-vendredi.html' title='Diner de Vendredi'/><author><name>Jon</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13281854.post-114637574392405097</id><published>2006-04-29T23:28:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-04-29T23:42:23.936-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm not alone</title><content type='html'>This is a post I've been waiting to write. I've wanted to get this up for quite a while, but I've never got around to finishing it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some time ago I heard a story that made me realize that I'm not alone as a parent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Many of our friends have girls. Perfect little princesses. Kids who you can trust in a home with nice things. Kids who would never dream of acting out the Lady and the Tramp spaghetti scene with their siblings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our boys are fairly polite and have pretty good manners but they are little fireballs of energy. They will touch and grab and climb and fight and lick and rip and pull almost anything they can get their hands on. And we've learned to live with that. They are boys. We've learned how to deal with them in public and keep them on a very short leash.*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, when I heard that one of our friends took his daughters out in public by himself and they turned into little she-devils, it made me a little happy in a way. Kinda giddy. Now, I was sorry for him and felt really bad that he had to be alone with the girls when they started fighting and licking products and acting like, well like Daniel and Josh. But it made me feel like we are not alone. Even those kids that seem like perfect angels can lash out and act like kids.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I'd rather have it our way. Because the boys are fairly consistent in their volatility, we can expect it and have come up with ways of controlling and redirecting the energy. If it was infrequent and sudden, I think I'd snap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To the parents in question: I know you are reading this and I hope I've protected your identity well enough. You know we love you and your kids. I'm not really happy that they are bad, but I am happy to know that they have moments of reality. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;====================&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Not literally. Well, not usually anyway.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13281854-114637574392405097?l=theirfather.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/feeds/114637574392405097/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13281854&amp;postID=114637574392405097' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/114637574392405097'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/114637574392405097'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/2006/04/im-not-alone.html' title='I&apos;m not alone'/><author><name>Jon</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13281854.post-114637489998356055</id><published>2006-04-29T23:09:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-04-29T23:28:20.010-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Lumberjacks</title><content type='html'>Last spring we were living in a townhouse and we had a huge tree in our back yard. I don't know if I could have got my arms around it at the bottom. One day, a crew came by and cut that tree down. They stripped the branches off and cut it down to a short stump - that Daniel would later use as a stage. It left little pieces of wood and saw dust in our lawn for the rest of the season.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today we are living in a different rented home and our landlord came by and cut down a huge tree from our yard. We're getting a little worried that as we move around this country, trees are getting cut down because of us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He came by earlier this week and removed one of the big branches that was hanging over the roof. But he did this with an electric circular saw. He was standing on a 12 foot extension ladder - and sometimes sitting on the limb of the tree and cutting through these branches as big as my thigh with a carpenter's tool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today he came back with a different saw that looked like a hedge trimmer (again with about 50 ft of extension cord). I thought he was just going to clean up some of the mess he made - limbs half cut, half broken off. But he said he was going to trim it down to the fence line. This tree must be older than him and the fence was built around the trunk. His plan was to cut off the remaining branches, leaving the main trunk 6 or 7 ft tall. There was easily twice as much tree above his demarcation point than below but that didn't stop him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Daniel and I went out to do some errands and when we came back he had found a gas chainsaw and was going to town on the trunk. He told me that he had underestimated how big this tree was and he couldn't get through the trunk with his saw. He said, "I got pissed at the tree and went home to get my chainsaw. When I got back I told the tree I wasn't bringing out my chainsaw just to cut through that one branch and leave it at the top of the fence so I cut the whole thing down."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now we have a hole in the fence that's over three feet wide with a stump in the middle of it, branches, wood chips, saw dust, and twigs on the front lawn, in the yard, and a mess on the sidewalk and street. The landlord brought his pickup truck to carry away the wood, but like he said, he totally underestimated both the size and strength of this tree. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He actually attracted the attention of a neighbour who came by and wanted to take the bulk of the wood away. He loaded up a trailer - looked about the size of a horse trailer - with the larger branches and pieces of the trunk, but there was still probably 3 heaping loads of tree parts to cart away in the landlord's trunk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We love this house and our landlord has been great about fixing things for us and taking care of issues, but it's things like this that make me wonder if he's related to a certain crazy neighbour my parents had that gave us endless hours of amusement watching him out the front window.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13281854-114637489998356055?l=theirfather.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/feeds/114637489998356055/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13281854&amp;postID=114637489998356055' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/114637489998356055'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/114637489998356055'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/2006/04/lumberjacks.html' title='Lumberjacks'/><author><name>Jon</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13281854.post-114637375143689397</id><published>2006-04-29T22:50:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-04-29T23:09:11.463-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Get-togethers</title><content type='html'>Amber had a group of ladies over tonight for a "book study". I put that in quotes because only one of the six ladies actually found the time to read the book this month, so I doubt the discussion was really related to the story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got to put the boys to bed. We watched a movie in Daddy's bed and then I read some stories and tucked them in. I actually lay on the floor in their room for a while.* While I was resting with my sons, I could hear the laughter and joyful discussions down the hall very clearly. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It took me back to when I was about 8 years old. My parents would occasionally have people over to chat or play games or whatever. These "get-togethers" as I called them would often last way past my bedtime but I couldn't fall asleep. I was too nervous to go down the hall to say anything but I was uncomfortable enough that I wouldn't fall asleep until after everyone left. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember sitting in my bedroom doorway, or crawling down the hall a ways and sitting with my back to the wall, just listening to what was going on. The more I tried to ignore the sounds, the more my ears focused on them and wouldn't allow me to fall asleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was weird though. As I was laying on the floor listening to the laughing coming down the hallway, I had that same weird feeling. Like I was trapped in my room and I couldn't come out, but I also would never be able to fall asleep. I felt like I was 8 years old again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The boys did better than me. At least I think they did. Daniel was a little restless but he usually is at bed time. Josh was likely asleep before his head fully hit the pillow. That's my boy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;=====================&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* Grammatical Note: (Because I'm just that weird. Feel free to skip this part if you aren't as bizzare as I am.) That sentence was difficult to write. Using the word "lay" instead of "laid" as the past tense of the intransitive verb "to lie" is correct but it feels awkward. Really awkward. Like, I mean I want to go up and change it to laid right now so people will know what I am talking about.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13281854-114637375143689397?l=theirfather.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/feeds/114637375143689397/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13281854&amp;postID=114637375143689397' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/114637375143689397'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/114637375143689397'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/2006/04/get-togethers.html' title='Get-togethers'/><author><name>Jon</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13281854.post-114631057451828806</id><published>2006-04-29T05:30:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-04-29T05:36:14.533-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Growing Up</title><content type='html'>I just had a dream. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some friends came over to visit and they were holding Andrew. After a while, one put him down on the floor - standing - and said, "Go. Walk to Daddy." And he did! He took the 8 or so steps to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't even know he could stand up on his own. I said, &lt;i&gt;"He can't walk. He's only 3 months old. Why would you even try that?"&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe my baby is growing up too fast. Maybe it feels like he's gonna be a year old before I know it. Maybe I want him to come to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or maybe it was the chicken wings I had late last night.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13281854-114631057451828806?l=theirfather.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/feeds/114631057451828806/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13281854&amp;postID=114631057451828806' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/114631057451828806'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/114631057451828806'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/2006/04/growing-up.html' title='Growing Up'/><author><name>Jon</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13281854.post-114529358980750854</id><published>2006-04-17T11:01:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-04-17T11:06:29.810-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Reading Books</title><content type='html'>I don't think I've mentioned it yet, but Daniel is reading. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not just reciting books he's had read to him hundreds of times or recognizing his name.  This kid can actually read. Real books. We got a new Robert Munsch book from the library the other day and he could read the whole thing with just a few little helps per page. And once he learns a word like "appliance" on page 2, he'll remember it on page 7. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know what to do with him. I was apparently reading too before I got to school but we lived in a small town so there weren't the multitude of options that we have here in a city of a million people. I want to keep up his love of learning, but not push him into things he's not ready for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We'll see what looks good in the fall. Maybe music or gymnastics or soccer or something else. Should be exciting.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13281854-114529358980750854?l=theirfather.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/feeds/114529358980750854/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13281854&amp;postID=114529358980750854' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/114529358980750854'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/114529358980750854'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/2006/04/reading-books.html' title='Reading Books'/><author><name>Jon</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13281854.post-114529327632673579</id><published>2006-04-17T10:57:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-04-17T11:01:16.326-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Ringmaster v.2.0</title><content type='html'>Joshie brought our family back about 27 years last night at Easter supper. He was sitting at the corner of the table (not eating - as usual) and playing with his vegetables. He had a pickle and a baby carrot standing up and called out (louder than he was expecting I'm sure), "Ladies and gentlemans, welcome from Veggie Tales!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My whole family started laughing out loud. When I was about his age, I thought I was a ringmaster and would go around the house welcome all the ladies and gentlemen to the circus. It is pretty cool to see the boys doing things we did as kids.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13281854-114529327632673579?l=theirfather.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/feeds/114529327632673579/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13281854&amp;postID=114529327632673579' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/114529327632673579'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/114529327632673579'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/2006/04/ringmaster-v20.html' title='Ringmaster v.2.0'/><author><name>Jon</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13281854.post-114529299883686527</id><published>2006-04-17T10:53:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-04-17T10:56:38.856-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Baby</title><content type='html'>Andrew is turning into a much happier baby now. We got him some medicine that helps control his reflux and we are getting smiles much more often now. It is so cute.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other cute thing is that he is soothed by music. He can be in the worst, grumpiest mood, crying and screaming and if Amber or I sing him Faithful One by Brian Doerksen, he will either be cooing along or asleep by the end of the chorus. It's so nice to have a pleasant baby in the house. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13281854-114529299883686527?l=theirfather.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/feeds/114529299883686527/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13281854&amp;postID=114529299883686527' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/114529299883686527'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/114529299883686527'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/2006/04/happy-baby.html' title='Happy Baby'/><author><name>Jon</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13281854.post-114502987047451749</id><published>2006-04-14T09:43:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-04-14T09:51:10.493-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Good Friday's Feast</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Appetizer&lt;br /&gt;What movie soundtracks do you own?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mr. Holland's Opus, a John Williams collection, Lion King&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Soup&lt;br /&gt;How much cash do you usually carry with you?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I always try to have $2.12 in the van for slurpees but I barely ever carry money with me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Salad&lt;br /&gt;Are you more comfortable around men or women? Why?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kids. Yeah, it surprises me too, but there have been numerous times at Bible study, where I end up playing with the little ones instead of talking with the parents.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Main Course&lt;br /&gt;What is the most mischievous thing you remember doing as a child?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Burning stuff. I remember putting a candle on the picnic table and spraying various aerosol chemicals through the flame to see what made the biggest fireball. Endust works pretty good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Dessert&lt;br /&gt;Who is the funniest member of your family?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Daniel was having a playdate with a bunch of kids last week and drew a picture of a boy. You could tell it was a boy because he had a penis. That makes me laugh every time I think of it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13281854-114502987047451749?l=theirfather.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/feeds/114502987047451749/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13281854&amp;postID=114502987047451749' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/114502987047451749'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/114502987047451749'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/2006/04/good-fridays-feast.html' title='Good Friday&apos;s Feast'/><author><name>Jon</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13281854.post-114467441915368825</id><published>2006-04-10T07:02:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-04-10T07:06:59.170-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Itchy</title><content type='html'>I've been really busy lately but I feel bad that I haven't been updating as much. I'll try to post little things when I think of them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-----&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night, getting ready for bed, Daniel was hopping around his bedroom picking at his underwear. I got him into his bed and he was still flailing about like a goldfish on the counter. Amber went to kiss him good night and he said, with great distress, "My bum is itchy! Please scratch it!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amber said laughing, "No, you can scratch your own bum."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Daniel replied, "But I don't have any fingernails!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13281854-114467441915368825?l=theirfather.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/feeds/114467441915368825/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13281854&amp;postID=114467441915368825' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/114467441915368825'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/114467441915368825'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/2006/04/itchy.html' title='Itchy'/><author><name>Jon</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13281854.post-114460328741525069</id><published>2006-04-09T11:14:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2006-04-09T11:21:27.433-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Friday's Feast on Sunday</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Appetizer&lt;br /&gt;Name a trait you share with your parents or your children.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The amazing McInnis Melon. A head that will never find a hat that fits. At least 4 generations now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Soup&lt;br /&gt;List 3 qualities of a good leader, in your opinion.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Servanthood&lt;br /&gt;Vision&lt;br /&gt;Compassion&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Salad&lt;br /&gt;Who is your favorite television chef?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alton Brown&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Main Course&lt;br /&gt;Share a story about a gift you received from someone you love.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amber has given me three beautiful boys and continues to give by staying home with them and raising them to become great, loving men.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Dessert&lt;br /&gt;How do you react under pressure?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I twitch and either shut down or fly off in rage. I try more often to zip-push-bar and lock the emotions deep inside.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13281854-114460328741525069?l=theirfather.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/feeds/114460328741525069/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13281854&amp;postID=114460328741525069' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/114460328741525069'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/114460328741525069'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/2006/04/fridays-feast-on-sunday.html' title='Friday&apos;s Feast on Sunday'/><author><name>Jon</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13281854.post-114384267713274968</id><published>2006-03-31T14:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-03-31T15:04:37.166-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Another Feast</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Appetizer &lt;br /&gt;Name 3 things that you think are strange.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;The &lt;a href="http://www.segway.com/segway/" target="_blank"&gt;Segway Human Transporter&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;The popularity of &lt;a href="http://www.hbo.com/" target="_blank"&gt;smut&lt;/a&gt; on TV &lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;The &lt;a href="http://news.google.com/news?hl=en&amp;ned=us&amp;ie=UTF-8&amp;q=alberta+third+way+health" target="_blank"&gt;Third Way&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Soup &lt;br /&gt;What was the last ceremony you attended?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Church this week, or possibly Adam and Beckie's wedding in July?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Salad &lt;br /&gt;What is one lesson you have learned in the past year?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God will make a way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Main Course &lt;br /&gt;Tell us about one of your childhood memories.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://theirfather.blogspot.com/2006/03/what-do-i-remember.html" target="_blank"&gt;OK&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Dessert &lt;br /&gt;If you could extend any of the four seasons to be twice as long as normal, which season would you want to lengthen?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since we're just coming off winter now, I'd have to say summer. I don't like cold very much.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13281854-114384267713274968?l=theirfather.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/feeds/114384267713274968/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13281854&amp;postID=114384267713274968' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/114384267713274968'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/114384267713274968'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/2006/03/another-feast.html' title='Another Feast'/><author><name>Jon</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13281854.post-114326430947411986</id><published>2006-03-24T22:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-03-25T07:59:16.610-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Delurker update 2</title><content type='html'>For those of you who are interested, Amber and I ended up giving the $40 from my delurker experiment, along with some more of our Ralph money to a new church plant opening up in Calgary's deep south called &lt;a href="http://www.journeychurch.ca/"  target="_blank"&gt;Journey Church&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;p.s. Thanks to Heather (the anonymous voyeur) for the link.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13281854-114326430947411986?l=theirfather.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/feeds/114326430947411986/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13281854&amp;postID=114326430947411986' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/114326430947411986'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/114326430947411986'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/2006/03/delurker-update-2.html' title='Delurker update 2'/><author><name>Jon</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13281854.post-114326286811499809</id><published>2006-03-24T21:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-03-24T22:01:08.116-07:00</updated><title type='text'>He's so happy</title><content type='html'>It's really sad actually. Andrew has been such an upset baby that it's a treat when he's quiet and staring off into space. He will often have a bit of a scowl, but if he's not crying, Josh will come over and give him a kiss saying, "Awwww! He's so happy!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Andrew has actually started smiling a bit now. It's great to see him in a good mood and smiling with his huge dimple. He's getting ticklish too, so it won't be long before I can make him smile whenever I need that little pick-me-up. :D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13281854-114326286811499809?l=theirfather.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/feeds/114326286811499809/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13281854&amp;postID=114326286811499809' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/114326286811499809'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/114326286811499809'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/2006/03/hes-so-happy.html' title='He&apos;s so happy'/><author><name>Jon</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13281854.post-114326268854107795</id><published>2006-03-24T21:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-03-24T21:58:08.540-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Not Josh!</title><content type='html'>I am still doing it. Actually more than before. I was good for a while, but it's been terrible for the last week or so. I call my newest son Joshie ALL THE TIME!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In that last post, I actually typed Josh at least 4 times and had to go back and change it to Andrew. What's the matter with me?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13281854-114326268854107795?l=theirfather.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/feeds/114326268854107795/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13281854&amp;postID=114326268854107795' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/114326268854107795'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/114326268854107795'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/2006/03/not-josh.html' title='Not Josh!'/><author><name>Jon</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13281854.post-114326234653366012</id><published>2006-03-24T21:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-03-24T21:55:41.386-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sick baby</title><content type='html'>Monday:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Took Amber and Andrew to the doctor for a checkup. We were a little concerned that Andrew had been throwing up and crying a lot more than the others. The doctor told Amber to lay off the milk products and leafy vegetables and come back in a few months.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later that night Amber spoke to a friend who had a baby who had very similar problems. She ended up being diagnosed with reflux. Amber also knows lots of other babies with the same problem so we had considered it. She checked out a list of &lt;a href="http://ambermcinnis.blogspot.com/2006/03/reflux.html" target="_blank"&gt;symptoms&lt;/a&gt; online and  determined that it was very likely what Andrew had.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tuesday:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Andrew woke up after a miserable night and was tugging at his ears. Amber called the doctor back and made an appointment for the morning. I took him in and the doctor was pretty sure he had reflux too. He refered us to a specialist and gave Andrew a prescription for his ear infection.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wednesday: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The doctor's office called and said they got us an appointment with the specialist for June 5. The receptionist knew this was unacceptable and said she'd have our doctor call in and get that bumped up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mere hours later they called to report that they could get us in tomorrow. Dr. T. means business.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thursday:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The specialist agreed that he has reflux and said that a milk allergy thing isn't the problem so Andrew got a prescription for Baby Zantac and Amber got a prescription for cheese and ice cream.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, Andrew has reflux - just like his daddy and his uncles. My brothers and I have developed issues with pop and other things over the past few years. But now he has this medicine and hopefully he'll get over in a month or so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He's already seeming better. Less crying, less clingy, less spitting up. Sounds good.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13281854-114326234653366012?l=theirfather.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/feeds/114326234653366012/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13281854&amp;postID=114326234653366012' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/114326234653366012'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/114326234653366012'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/2006/03/sick-baby.html' title='Sick baby'/><author><name>Jon</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13281854.post-114317983128941549</id><published>2006-03-23T22:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-03-23T22:57:11.313-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Feast 86</title><content type='html'>Pretty short one this week. I don't know if the questions are simple or tough, but they didn't draw much out of me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Appetizer&lt;br /&gt;How would you describe your personal comfort zone?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amber and the boys&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Soup&lt;br /&gt;What is your favorite tree?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apple tree&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Salad&lt;br /&gt;List 3 foods you'd like to include in your dinner plans for tonight.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd love to have roast, potatoes, yorkshire pudding&lt;br /&gt;What did I have? Frozen meatpie, popcorn, apple&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Main Course&lt;br /&gt;What is the best advice you've ever been given, but didn't heed?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was advised numerous times to follow my dreams and do a job I like, but it took me years to heed it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Dessert&lt;br /&gt;On a scale of 1-10 (10 being highest), how much attention do you feel comfortable receiving from others?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe 2.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13281854-114317983128941549?l=theirfather.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/feeds/114317983128941549/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13281854&amp;postID=114317983128941549' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/114317983128941549'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13281854/posts/default/114317983128941549'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theirfather.blogspot.com/2006/03/feast-86.html' title='Feast 86'/><author><name>Jon</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
