I had no idea I was so cool, and it knew in so few questions! I always thought I was Jacko from those old Energizer commercials.
Author: Kevin Lawver
Web developer, Software Engineer @ Gusto, Co-founder @ TechSAV, husband, father, aspiring social capitalist and troublemaker.
Religious Kitsch
Religious Kitsch – and I thought Mormons were embarrassing.
Aborted Griping
I was going to write a dissertation on thinking “out of the box”, but t’ain’t the season for work griping.
In the spirit of not griping, I give you this morning. When I got up, I was sure it had snowed. I looked out over the top of our bathroom curtains and saw the clouds laying low in a grey cottony carpet over the cemetary across the street. Then, as I walked farther into the bathroom, I saw that the cemetary hill was still green, and it had in fact just rained.
I’ve been praying for snow lately. I know as soon as it shows up, I’ll pray for it to leave. I want to take Max out in the snow. Last year, he was a little young to play in it, but this year, I think he’ll be snow-crazy, and so will I. There’s something magical about a kid’s first real snow day, making his first snowball, first snow angel and catching his first snowflake on his nose.
Come on, snow, come on!!
A Larry King Moment
For my money, there isn’t a song that’s sexier than You Look Like Rain by Morphine.
The Undeniable Lack of Panic
Today was supposed to be a busy mess of QA, Launch and otherworldly stress. Instead, 30 minutes after the stress started, it was all called off because someone, somewhere, with letters after their name decided this was a bad idea and let’s not do it. So, all the stress and work I had geared up for never happened, and I now have nothing to do. It’s all well and good, but now I’ve read all my favorite blogs, added stuff to my Amazon Wish List, ordered a gift for someone, looked for some way to get Ximian GNOME installed in YellowDog 2.1, played with iMovie a little, talked about TiVo, went and bought a Dr. Pepper and now… squat-all.
Could I leave early and go to the Price Club for a gigantic box of diapers? Yeah, I probably could and no one would even notice. Could I curl up under my desk and take a nap? I probably could, although someone would probably notice my size twelves sticking out into the hallway.
I could do something productive like redesign my work homepage or read all those C books I’ve been meaning to. Will I? You can rest assured that I won’t be doing either of those things.
Max’s Wall Monkey, because monkey
Max’s Wall Monkey, because monkey = funny. I finally got a good capture of the monkey my sister and I painted on Max’s wall for his birthday (thank you, iMovie!).
And if you’re the guy
And if you’re the guy who searched for “YellowDog + OS X + Triple Booting”, you’re in luck. Check out the geekery. I posted my step-by-step triple-boot happiness last week.
This Modern World could not
This Modern World could not be more brilliant this fine Monday morning.
And completely unrelated to that other than the fact that’s it’s not a phantom of lost anything, Max is too great. His little self slept in this morning and didn’t make a peep until I was getting ready to leave. He usually wakes up and plays in his room for a while (somewhere between 20 – 45 minutes depending on whimsy, I think). So, I walked out the door and looked up. What did I see, but my little boy looking out the window. I waved. He waved. I smiled. He smiled around his pacifier with his curly hair sticking out at all angles. He pointed at the clouds and then waved again.
I’m here at work on
I’m here at work on a Saturday afternoon. No, I’m not working. I’m transferring video from my camera to my new Mac so I can eventually burn everything to DVD. Won’t that be fun?
The Terrible Twos
They’re a myth, I swear. Whenever people ask me how old Max is, I always tell them the truth and with pride say, “He’s TWO.” Every single time, they say, “Oh yeah, the terrible twos.” I have to correct them every time. Max isn’t terrible at two. He’s great. He had two rough weeks right after his birthday, but Jen worked some magic and he’s back to adorable.
He’s well behaved. He’s talking now and telling us what he wants in almost discernable words. He’s funny and loves to play. He’s not terrible, not even at bed time. He has his little routine for bedtime. One of us stands up (usually Jen) and says, “Ok, bed time!” We change a diaper, find a pacifier, Max grabs his lamb, and we head upstairs. He goes down without a fuss, and we get to listen to him talk to himself for a little while before he goes to sleep.
I know every kid is different. If we have another one, I’m sure they’ll be different in many ways, and maybe not so easy. Maybe they will, just because Jen’s such a great parent (she won’t admit it, but she’s a natural).
Last night, we made a gingerbread house. It turned out spiffy.
Things are really good…