So what, who cares, why should you be concerned about Disney giving a refund on videos where puppets do silly things and Marley Matlin teaches them sign language?

Well, there is an activist group out there who is pretty pissed off because their children didn’t become instant geniuses. Complaining, because that’s what society does best, they demanded a refund. Does this mean I can demand a refund from the PEPSI I drank in the early 90’s which promised me youth? Does this mean I can get a refund from the cigarettes I smoked that promised me I could be cool? Does this mean I can get a refund from Red Bull because I never sprouted wings?

Silly as it may sound, this is the extreme some people take when it comes to marketing “promises”. Think back about the old woman who sued McDonalds for the hot coffee, that didn’t have a warning on it declaring it was “HOT”. What’s happening to society? Is it crumbling before us as the foundation of common sense withers away? Shouldn’t it be known that humans teach humans how to do things and to a baby all a television is is bright lights and incoherent sounds?

Owen watches Baby Einstein for about ten minutes until we start doing something else. Notice I said WE. I believe that most people who are complaining set their child in front of the TV and hope it will teach them everything. Owen and I, for instance, watch it together. I point out what we are watching and help him sound out words, hoping he will connect the sights to phrases. I mean, lets face it, we will probably never visit Africa or the depths of the ocean so watching a video about this and “learning” about these things is harmless- right? Apparently not, because Baby Einstein is proven to be an essential learning tool, although I can’t seem to find where this statement has been proven. *looks around* Nope, can’t find anything that says Baby Einstein will make Owen a super intelligent toddler.  I did find this though:

“Baby Einstein offers a wide range of developmentally appropriate products for babies and toddlers. What makes Baby Einstein products unlike any other is that they are created from a baby’s point-of-view and incorporate a unique combination of real world objects, music, art, language, poetry and nature — providing you an opportunity to introduce your baby to the world around them in playful and enriching ways. This simple principle is the foundation for The Baby Einstein Company and its products.” www.babyeinstein.com

Not to mention this:

“For the past several years, Baby Einstein has been under attack by propaganda groups taking extreme positions that try to dictate what parents should do, say and buy. Our philosophy has always been to focus on creating products that parents and babies love, and to not get sidetracked and pulled down into their street fight.” www.babyeinstein.com/Refund

To play both sides this is what the opposition says:

“Baby Einstein and Brainy Baby continue to profit from building their brands on years of false and deceptive marketing that their videos are beneficial for babies. The number one reason parents allow babies to watch DVDs is the mistaken belief that they are educational and/or good for brain development. Given that, the FTC should have at least compelled both companies to publicly acknowledge that there is no substantiation for claims that these videos have educational or developmental benefits.” http://www.commercialfreechildhood.org/pressreleases/ftcfailure.htm

Hold on, what?

“Nevertheless, we are deeply troubled by the FTC’s decision not to take enforceable action against either company.  This decision tells companies that it is acceptable to lie to parents; and if you get caught you can change your claims with no consequences for years of deception.” http://www.commercialfreechildhood.org/pressreleases/ftcfailure.htm

First, lets consider something. If a parent chooses to allow their child to watch a DVD to increase educational or brain development, they should reevaluate their parenting style. This is not the companies fault, it is the parents fault. If you research Julie Clarks initial purpose behind the videos you will see she was trying allow individuals the option to explore something unattainable. The world is large, and unfortunately, it takes a LOT of money to experience it all personally. The videos help instigate communication and increase awareness, given the parent helps motivate the child after watching the video. Again, the company provides a service, the parent chooses to use this service, and thus the parent is ultimately responsible for their actions.

Second, this claim of deception… as a consumer we have the rights to know what the company is selling, as a consumer it is also implied that we will use COMMON SENSE when purchasing a product. Would you by a steak that looks green and moldy? No, because common sense tells you it isn’t good meat. Would you buy a video thinking “this will teach my child everything it needs to know?” NO, common sense would tell you that is ludicrous and lazy.

Third:

“An award winning ventriloquist, Dr. Linn is internationally known for her innovative work using puppets in child psychotherapy, pioneering this work at Children’s Hospital in Boston, where she used puppets to help children cope with their hospital experiences.”  http://www.consumingkids.com/bio.htm

So… you use puppets to help children cope, then complain that people use puppets to help children learn… *sigh/ facepalm*

Long rant short, when it comes to “experts” or “opinion” or “theory” ultimately people need to use common sense. Should you set your child in front of a TV for countless hours hoping the knowledge fairy will visit them… no. Should you believe a video will teach your child everything there is to know about the world… no. Should you be active in your child’s development; ABSOLUTELY. It’s is ultimately a parents decision on what their children watch and experience. If we censor everything what will be left? What’s next, is Van Gogh too erratic? Is Mozart too aggressive? Is Gershwin too raunchy? Is Family Circus too risqué?

I grew up watching Loony Toons, listening to rock music, and watching movies pre FCC crack down. I think I turned out fine. I don’t need someone to make a huge stink about something that should be a common sense decision by the consumer.

If this CCFC group really wants to make a change, why don’t they start by focusing on the education system? It seems America is so preoccupied with placing blame that we ignore the cause.

For the record- I do think TV should be limited to children. I do think commercialism is ruining society. However, I also think the only way we can combat these things is to use rational thought and intellect when deciding our purchases, services, and entertainment. We don’t need to point fingers, we need to educate.

I just finished a 62,000+ word novel and now I have to sell it. There is nothing more frustrating then writing your fingers off, so much that the “E” key is now blank, and knowing you have to sum up a 60,000 word story in one sentence. It’s a blessed frustration, because you know this one sentence will hook people into the story you have been working on for years. It’s a necessary frustration because agents and editors don’t want to hear you say, “It’s complicated” after they ask you what it’s about.

I discovered this after telling the people at my bank I just finished a novel.

“What is it about?” they asked.
“Uh….” was my response.

I mean, damn, I just fashioned 60,000 words into an organized thriller with a dash of humor. I told a freaking story and now I can’t tell anyone what it’s about. OUCH! That hurts.

“What genre is it?” the people at the bank asked.
“Uh….” was my answer.

Mystery, Thriller, Satire, Romance, Comedy, Literary, Contemporary, SciFi, Experimental, the list to describe my work goes on and on and on. I can tell you one thing- it’s not for children. Quirky might work, only because I like the word Quirky. So what is it about? Well for the past two hours I have been trying to decide that answer. While I slave away making invoices, updating the database, and answering phone calls, I have illegibly been jotting down chicken scratch notes that will one day conform into a cohesive summary. I can tell you what it’s about, but it’s complicated. Not complicated like you wouldn’t understand it complicated, but complicated like I don’t know where to start complicated. Start from the beginning you say? Sure!

Where do I begin?

It’s a biting satire on society’s obsession with pop culture’s influences. It’s a modernized debate on the views Jung and Freud presented on the theory of consciousness. It’s Dr. Jeckyl / Mr. Hyde meets The Cell.It’s remembering what it was like to be a shy teenager who wanted to be witty and suave and would do anything to be that way. It’s finding romance in the most unlikely of places. It’s about something that could happen in the foreseeable future that no one seems to be overly concerned about.

It’s about dreams, okay. It’s about the ethical dilemmas involving controlling dreams.

It’s giving me a headache.

I’m happy with finishing my novel, but not content yet. I don’t think I will be content until I have a for-sure answer that my novel will be a best seller or that it sucks and should be filed away in the “nice try” folder. Regardless of whatever outcome, moderate seller, breakthrough hit, dust collector, I will be happy with just saying I finished a 60,000 word novel.

Until, I hear of my pending fate as a professional writer I will continue to enjoy my time with my son and wife. I am still going to complete an associate’s degree and will soon be a father to two children, so that’s something to be excited about. Being an author is tertiary, but oh-so-exciting.

I say this because it amazes me how some people don’t read and/or follow directions. If I told you not to feed the lion- would you do it? To some people it would depend. They would stand there and think.
Lion – meat eater.
Lion – sharp teeth.
Lion – hungry.
Lion – looks angry.

I must feed it.

They say don’t feed the buffalo because it’s a creature that can run fast, weights a ton, and has horns. Do I need to tell you what horns do? No, because you can assume what horns are capable of. Buffalo and zebra can be aggressive. Which to some people is read: Buffalo and zebra can be cuddly. Do you know what happens when you feed a hungry aggressive animal and then decide the llama down the way needs some food too and take the feed away from the hungry aggressive animal? Hungry aggressive animal rams your car.

Rules are there for a reason. To keep you safe. Pay attention to them!

Now that my public service announcement is out of the way I would like to talk about the finer points of Virginia Safari Park. For an up and coming “zoo” it’s a fun time. Owen, who is almost 11 months old really enjoyed it. The price is well worth it and I’m sure there will be some expansion in the future.

At first I was concerned Owen would hate the ride though part. I was thinking the animals would scare him. I was surprised when he first was smiling and laughing at them and then began to observe them. He was like a mini Jack Hanna. The kid is afraid of nothing- except for my sneezes. Shoot, I’m afraid of my sneezes.

As mentioned above you can feed certain animals. You get a bucket of feed and well, feed the animals… feed. If you don’t get feed then the animals look in your car, wonder why you don’t have feed, then consider biting/pecking/drooling on your car.

Owen awaits the next animal

This ostrich (or as I like to call them evil sock puppets) stuck its head through my window thought about attacking my camera, and then attacked the door panel. Man I really dislike ostriches. They look like rejected muppets. Evil, bug eyed, mutant turkeys. They are the result of a genetic blend between a giraffe and a duck. Ick, freaking ostriches.

In addition to experiencing the ride though there is a nice little walk through section. While walking though the area we noticed a huge albino boa constrictor being tended to by a keeper. Amber let Owen touch it. Now I know what you are thinking… why aren’t you more excited about your son touching an eight foot long snake? Why aren’t you happy that your son isn’t afraid of it? Well, seeing as how I was taking photos of a binturong I missed the opportunity to take a photo of my son petting the snake- photography fail. I am excited by the way, just pissed at myself for missing a photo op.

Sure it looks cute, but not even five feet away my son is touching a snake. Good eye Michael.... good eye.

By the way I still dislike ostriches.

I wish I could talk more about the Safari Park but I think I’m about out of words for the day. Writing a novel limits your motivation for writing about things that don’t pertain to the novel. That and my accounting class killed some of my brain cells last night from pure boredom. In addition my programming and database class seems to have claimed the entire right side of my brain as their own.

So… this entry is a bit on the dull side. My apologies.

Just for the heck of it…

It's just a puppet. Ostriches are not real.

I bet they taste like chicken.

Let’s break this down for a moment- Yard Sales are not meant to start up neighborhood competitions. I highly doubt my yard sale is going to hurt your yard sale’s business. I’m talking to you Sandusky yard sale who posted their hard to read card board sign over our large easy to see sign that POINTED to our house. Yes, I’m talking to you. It’s not that you used our sign to highlight your tiny, extremely hard to read sign; it’s that you ripped off the arrow and address from our sign- that irritates me. Unless you are selling the same, exact items that we are, that was totally unacceptable. It was low. It was childish. Your sign… sucked. There. Next time use some creativity, like stickers or something and black marker on torn cardboard is 1980’s… get with the times.

And to the dude who scanned over my comic books, critiquing my price and the condition they were… go home. Really. I don’t care about how you think computers are responsible for the “foreign invasion” or how you only buy American even though you were driving a car made in Mexico. I don’t care about how you knew so much about EBay even though you don’t own one of them “evil” computers. If I wanted to know about your political beliefs I would have asked you. I’m quite fond of the US and know a lot of geography and realize that we have it a lot better than some other countries, so my advice to you is… if you don’t like it here move. And by the way, if you ask a Native American I’m sure we are the foreigners here. But this isn’t a political blog so back on target… I sold, NOTE: sold, those comics to someone who would appreciate them and who could use them. Perhaps they were going to give them to charity? Perhaps they were going to use them for scrapbooks? Maybe they were going to burn them? Who knows? (Not that you would know because you still use them typewriters and send mail via pidgons)

To the dude who handed out his business information after buying our mattress… okay, that was good. I cannot complain about that. I applaud your capitalist ways. It was nice meeting your Fred… or was it Frank? Francis?

To the lady who thought Amber was a nurse- She said she was an Audiologist and that she worked with hearing and balance disorders. You heard- “Disorders”. Then you came over and wanted to “test” her on her Audiology knowledge by asking her about your shin. She said, “oh, I don’t know about shins.” But you insisted… I will test you, you said…. Then you brought out the picture… of your shin…. It was gross.

To the lady who threw the price tag on the ground at the end of our drive way… tisk tisk… where are your manners. To the dude who bought the laptop… I hope you heard me when I said it doesn’t turn on… if you didn’t hear me I know this great Audiologist. I don’t think you heard me. You were a little too “excited”.

All joking aside (unless I’m not joking *shifty eyes*) my first yard sale experience was mostly positive. I learned that you just shouldn’t take whatever price people offer you, for instance:
“Fifty dollars for that vase huh.”
“Yup!”
“I’ll give you a dollar.”
“SOLD!”

It was a hard lesson and I’m starting to feel awful that I sold off a ton of CD’s for 35 dollars… but then I remember what CD’s were in that collection and I don’t feel bad anymore. Actually, I’m secretly laughing because they are no longer in my possession and I no longer have to explain why I own a Britney Spears CD. MWAHHAHAHAHAHAHA. Enjoy Lou Bega! *evil mad scientist laugh inserted here*
Ahem.

I also learned that sometimes you should give a good deal to someone who deserves it. For instance: this kid was eyeballing a keyboard that we had for sale. I could see it in his eyes, he yearned for it. I let him try it out and heard how wonderfully he played and began to think. This kid needs this keyboard, what am I going to do with this thing; prank call people with the sound effect buttons… come to think of… Anyway, he looked through his wallet and discovered he only had forty four dollars. Five of that he wanted to keep so he could give it for offering. He asked me if he could have the keyboard for 39 dollars. The price I placed on it was 60. Now, I know I could have said no and sold it to someone for more. But this kid wanted it. He came from Korea and was without a musical instrument. I told him I would take the 39. He then asked me if I was a Christian and after I told him yes he said he would pray for me. The feeling that I got afterward was worth much more than 60 dollars.

I met a lot of nice people and had several fun moments, but overall… yard sales are rather crazy. I would rather be security at yard sales then host one.

“Hey you stop playing with that metal detector! Please put it down your wife does not have metal in her head. Michael, for the last time, stop scanning me for metal.” Okay so Amber would make a better security officer than I.

They never had toys like they do know when I was younger… I’m sure lots of people can say the same. They have a robotic dinosaur, all kinds of cool Legos, action figures, playsets, board games; the list goes on and on.

I find myself gleefully making a list of toys I hope Owen wants when he is older… so I might be able to play with them too.

Currently, that is with Owen being 10 months, I want to note the things that I think all parents with 10 month olds should have.

1)      Links: AKA toy-savers. Links are your best friends. They are BFF to your child’s favorite toys which have the ability to be “linked”. This is most true when you have a child who likes to play the “let me see in what disgusting place I can drop this toy” game. Links provide endless possibilities: bridges, tethers (to halt the advancement of toys treading into unfamiliar territory), chewing objects, entertainment when hung from “Oh crap!” handles, barriers, etc.

2)      Toys with “crinkly” paper inside them. You know that sound that paper bags/ plastic bags make. Well babies/ infants/ grown adults love that noise. When I was younger I thought it was hilarious that someone put a “This is not a toy” disclaimer on plastic bags. Surely, I though, no one would EVER let their child play with a plastic bag. Well, now being a parent of a 10 month old who is OBSESSED with the sound a plastic bag makes- I understand the disclaimer. Thus, whoever decided to take that “crinkly” noise and wrap some safe fabric around it in the form of an elephant or soft block; I thank you. It has provided hours (or what seemed like hours) of entertainment for my son… and me (watching my son that is; so get that thought of me playing with a crinkly block like a cat out of your head).

3)      Toys with Buttons! In addition, toys with light up buttons that make noise. IN EXTRA ADDITION, toys with LOTS of buttons that light up, make noise, and have cause/effect reactions. Seriously, I wish I could make a room filled with buttons. The Museum of Science and Industry and the Children’s Museum of Indianapolis are essentially giant buildings with buttons and levers. BRILLAINT!

4)      Balls. Lots of balls. You can never have enough balls. If anyone else’s child is like Owen then the more balls you have the better. Get a ball pit. Take an inflatable pool in the wintertime, fill it with balls and BAM, you have a ball pit. Owen goes crazy for a makeshift ball pit.

5)      Laundry basket. What? A laundry basket? Yes. *PLEASE! PLEASE! PLEASE! USE CAUTION! Watch your child with things like this, I understand it’s not a real toy, so don’t just give your child a laundry basket and walk away.* Now back to your regularly scheduled programming. Take a laundry basket, fill with towels, sit back and watch. Owen has a blast taking clothes out of the laundry basket when I bring it up. Granted it makes my job a bit more difficult but he enjoys it. In addition to taking clothes out of it, baskets make great hiding places and imaginary rocket ships.

6)      Teething rings. Enough said with that one.

7)      Gates. I know it’s not a toy, but they can be essential. Note I say ‘they’, meaning many. Meaning… multiple uses. Meaning… baby proofing room.

The list could essentially go on forever. I have found that researching toys and discovering the ones that promote interactivity (minus television and computer related stuff) have helped Owen grow in his hand/eye coordination, dexterity, problem solving skills, and other motor skills. Sometimes I wish I could be a tester for toys. For Owen… that is not for me. Because I’m in my late twenties and playing with toys is not appropriate… when other people are watching. I’m just kidding.

Not really.

Of course I’m older now and that immature portion of my mind has since then silenced, although sometimes I still laugh to myself thinking of a younger version of me terrorizing adults with poo throwing antics. I understand that my son doesn’t use poop as weapons of mass destruction, although sometimes I could argue that. I understand that my son doesn’t emulate a vulture and throw up on command. I also understand that my old conception of a child was grossly misunderstood.

Here I am now overly excited that number two is on the way. Amber is remembering what being pregnant was like. I am like an elephant, I never forget. My body doesn’t cleanse my memory of that. It’s a good thing most women “forget” what pregnancy was like or the world would be a lot less populated. I hate to say I find it funny when Amber asks me if I remember her doing a certain thing or liking a certain thing or feeling a certain way. I bite my tongue for a moment and think, “Should I say yes I remember and get it over with, or gamble that it could be different?” I remember all the cravings, aversions, pains, discomforts, bad smells, worse smells, emotions, headaches, back aches, ankle aches, massive burst of energy, pillow smashing, mid night snacking, super-hearing, evil looks, loving looks, silent curses, nacho cheese bargaining, fast food runs, and exhaustion. Now that I think about it, it sounds terrible when you write it all in one sentence.

I also remember the joy of feeling the baby move, the happiness I felt watching the ultrasound, the comfort in making Amber feeling comfortable, the heroics of slaying a cheeseburger from the land of McDonalds and presenting it before my fair maiden. There are many things I remember about the first pregnancy. Thus far, things are different. Some old wives seem to think it’s because there be a girl in thar belly. We will see. This time around it will be different. We have Owen to witness the events. He will have a sibling, an alibi, a playmate, a partner in crime, someone to vent to, someone to be mad at and someone to share new memories with. All of the astonishing things Owen does will now be times two.

Speaking of Owen, it has become apparent that he now has an attitude, a silly sense of humor, and knows how certain things work. For instance, the window goes up, down, up, down, up, down updownupdownupdown….. he can wave, tumble, he knows his name, he knows who daddy is, he knows who mommy is, and he knows the difference between tomatoes and watermelon (and prefers tomatoes). I believe he will be walking by one year… please pray for us. Just kidding.

Yesterday was crazy; I worked, had class, and then battled insane traffic to get home. The moment I walked in Owen saw me and started crawling rapidly to see me. It was a great feeling. I could go on forever about the great things in my life, but I feel it would just get boring and a bit sickening.
“Dear Diary-
Today was wonderful! It was wonderful outside. It was wonderful inside. A bird tagged my wonderful car. I got a wonderful pay raise. Class was wonderful….”
No one wants that much glee. Even the Disney Company is like “Whoa… Whoa… that’s a little too much pixie dust for you.”

Until next time…

July 2009-

I was putting dishes away while watching Owen, thinking about what we were going to do. Our house was on the market, we were contemplating moving to a less expensive home, money was getting tight, and life in general was approaching chaos at break neck speed. I remember talking to Amber about something, possibly about having a massive yard sale or something when I noticed her walking down the hallway towards me. Owen was trying to scale the couch when Amber came to a stop at the edge of the counter and stared at me. I was mid sentence….

Don’t you think it’s funny when something happens to you that answer all your questions? You might be concerned about a job or where you will be living in two years or possibly what you will be doing after school. All you know is you are confused and the fog of pandemonium has blinded you from making a smart decision. You beg, plead, offer silly sacrifices (like giving up chocolate, refraining from making dirty jokes, and cursing at idiotic drivers) just to get a hint at what the answer to all your questions might be. Then suddenly it hits you. It’s like someone yells, “FINE!” and throws a book in your lap with the title, “The Answer. Now in Bold, Italic, Highlight and Underline. Presented by the Power that IS. Don’t forget it!”

That answer is in black and white.

Wolsiefer: Part Two

Is that an ultrasound?

No.

It can’t be.

I was midsentence when Amber showed me the result: Pregnant. All the chaos resided. All the decisions became simple. The journey took a new direction. I asked her in an excited child like way, “Are you pregnant!?” She nodded.

Baby number two is on the way. Coming April 2010.
Be sure to stick with me. The updates have only just begun.

If you read my rollercoaster analogy several posts below this one this will make sense. We are just now rising up the next hill. The physics of rollercoaster works like a sound wave. From the point of origin the wave is large, the further you get from the origin the straighter the wave gets (if I am wrong please correct me). Rollercoasters need to keep momentum in order to be fun. You start with a huge hill and gradually they get smaller. If you went from huge hill to bigger hill the cars wouldn’t have enough energy to make it over the hump… does that make sense.

So what? Rollercoaster, wizards, journey, “Don’t stop Believing!” what does it all mean? Who cares about analogies and symbolism and Steve Perry? Why does it sound like you are writing an “I quit” letter? Why does it seem like Ken Burns is about to direct a documentary on your life? When did you get all philosophical and junk?

Well…

Somewhere between the gang of deer, almost running over the prostitute, and defending my stairs something smacked me sideways and made me realize a few things.

Wait… prostitute, deer, stairs… is there something…

Friday, August 14^th, 2008-
The trip to RDU was interesting. Amber, Owen and I got into the car around 1:30 and secretly traveled to the airport like ninjas with an agenda. Along the way deer were popping up like crazy, standing like statues on the side of the road contemplating the bright lights that quickly approached them. Twenty some deer later we arrived at RDU around 4 or 4:30 in the morning. I felt like I was smuggling people across the border to save them from some evil regime. It’s the first time I would be alone for several days without seeing my wife and child and it worried me. But I knew how important it was that they go.

As soon as they cleared security I trekked back to Lynchburg, following the trusty GPS device unaware that it would take me past my nemesis-  Greensboro, NC. The land of tiny airport signs, the land of confusing road signs, the city of my nightmares, the place where I got lost not once, not twice, but three times- in one trip. Greensboro- where the airport appears out of nowhere. Greensboro- it makes me shiver.

The moment I realized where I was headed I cursed. I loath Greensboro. I’m sure to those who live there it’s a fine town. But to me it’s a trap, a curse, a pit of despair. I know how close I am to home once I get there, but fear I will get lost. My worries fade the moment the GPS lady tells me to turn right and I merge onto 29. Home is just an hour away. Then I see her…

I slam on my brakes, lay on the horn and say something that would make a battle hardened soldier blush. A lady of the night stares at me, hips cocked, giving me the look of disgust. Clearly, I’m interrupting her business. I quickly look around and notice the houses, the bright Beemer to my left, and some slack jawed denizen to my right who almost witnessed an accident. Oh my, I almost hit a prostitute. My emotions quickly run through me. Dear God I almost hit someone! What the hell is she doing standing in the middle of the road?! Get a job! What the hell is she wearing?! Where am I? Why does it look like her legs are… nevermind… I shiver and suddenly realize I’m stopped. The gum chewing, head bobbin’, hands on hip red light special mutters something then continues with her trick. I drive away, take a deep breath and head home, a little faster then I probably should. Damn Greensboro.

Seven thirty in the morning comes along and my nap is cut short by a phone call that informs me the lady who was interested in our home doesn’t like the stairs and thinks her insurance will be high because of our fire. I’m more concerned with the stairs. “Do you know how freaking proud of those stairs I am?” I tell my realtor. He agrees and says the stairs are nice, but people don’t like to walk up them. “No kidding,” I tell him. It’s a shame Home Depot doesn’t sell escalator parts.

I lie there in bed thinking about what all just happened. Then I go back further. I end up thinking about Muncie…

Which catches us up to this moment. Thinking. Considering. Pondering. Contemplating. Wondering. I’m going existential at break neck speed. What does it all mean? Why are we here? Are these signs from God that things need to change?

I called Brian several days ago and asked him how he does it. “It” being raising several children while Crystal stays home and he pulls in a retail manager’s salary. He tells me, “I just let God take care of me. And he does.” He continues to give me advice as he always does when it comes to faith, “Ask God to treat you like a baby,” he tells me. Ask God to spoon feed you, ask him to grab you by the shoulders and forcefully, but lovingly, point you in the right direction, tell him you are ignorant and know absolutely nothing and need some sense of direction because your eyes are closed and you need to pin the tail on the donkey which is across a trap infused dungeon. Trust, he tells me. Believe, he tells me. Understand, he tells me.

July 2009-

The wizard of Oz is just a man behind a curtain; a man with insecurities and fear. These people come to him for answers looking for heart, intelligence, courage, and comfort. Once the curtain is dropped, they are all similar and all of them find their way.

Events in our lives happen for mysterious reasons. Sometimes it takes one of these events to ground you and take a step back. You survey the situation, take a deep breath, and prepare yourself for what’s ahead. I was putting dishes away when I discovered this.

My first attempt at a rock show poster.

Why did I have the time to make this you might as? Well Amber and Owen traveled to Indiana for the weekend to see family (briefly) and… I’m getting a head of myself. Have you ever had a feeling, a notion that something is about to happen- something drastic, something unusual, something unexpected yet totally within your reasoning. Perhaps it’s something that you are aware of in context, but just not sure of. Maybe it’s buying a car, looking at a home, going back to school, writing a book, relocating across town, etc. This feeling tugs at the back of your mind pestering you, urging you to constantly think about your options and goals. You can sit and think about what you want to do, but it’s futile due to fate. That car that you buy is to save gas because the economy is crushing you, that home you are looking at is cheaper so you can save money, you go to school to get a better job, you write a book to tell a story to many verse some, you relocate across town because you no longer feel safe where you are, etc, etc, etc. This feeling transitions from consideration to decision.

May 2007
Youth presents opportunities. Opportunities provide a plethora of options. Those options manifest into life changing decisions. I remember standing on the deck of my apartment in Muncie staring out into the parking lot, viewing the spot where the U-Haul once was. I remember turning back looking at my mostly empty living room, seeing Osiris laying in his water bowl, my mini jungle of palms and rubber tree plants sheltered him from the sun (even though he was a desert snake). I remember thinking about how much I missed Amber and if we made the right decision to move to Virginia. It was too late to reconsider and I didn’t want to. However, the thought was still there. Our decision was somewhat easy to make: get paid, see a new part of the country, start over. It was an exciting time, despite my living like a minimalist. I had just a few months to say good-by to my friends, which turned into “see you later”. Decisions were inevitable.

February 2008
When I found out that Owen was about to make his grand entrance into the world the amount of excitement I felt was unbelievable. Life changed once again. Opportunity manifested into concrete choice. My entire view of the world changed over night. I started to force myself to see Virginia as home. I worked harder. I strive harder. I studied harder. I had to find a way to provide more.

Then the house fire happened. The moment we stood outside and watched the firefighters rush through our home as smoke poured out of any exit it could find something hit me. The feeling of unexpected events burrowed into the back of my mind. As we stood outside our house holding the dogs and trying to find something to laugh about I thought about where we would go. A hotel was the only option. It made me sad.

October 2008
Our journey is not all about darkness, disappointment and depression. Don’t get me wrong the house fire was tragic, but it could have been worse. We have several things to laugh about thanks to that situation: Amber freaking out wondering what to do when my answer was “Call 911”, the several times I ran in and out to get shoes and dog leashes, the firefighter who almost hit Amber with a hose, the firefighter who was so pleased that he only broke one glass as he ripped out our scorched cabinets. I began to see the fire as a moment that was supposed to happen. Once Owen was born all darkness faded. The fire, our car accident, many other situations became superficial to me. None of them really mattered anymore. They are stories to tell someday that will astonish Owen.

Today

A friend told me, “It’s not about the journey, it’s about the destination.” I constantly remember that when my feeling of unexpected creeps into the foreground. That phrase was specifically mentioned while I was trying to make sense of it all in regards to faith. However, that phrase can be pined to any situation. There is a place that we would like to be in our lives and we are on the journey there. Magellan sailed around the world (almost) and met many obstacles along the way. The Apollo program faced several disasters before it got where it is today and they aren’t even done yet. Odysseys needed to return to Ithaca and it took him longer than expected and those on Olympus made it VERY difficult for him. We hear of stories real and fiction that tell of a great journey complete with perils, sadness, joy, twists, difficulties, mistakes, and forgiveness.
…Confused?
Don’t be.

July 2009
The wizard of Oz was just a man behind a curtain… To be continued…