Reagan's Red Solo Cup

It is universally known that children will, and in our case with alarming frequency, reveal to others that our capabilities as good parental roll models for our children is somewhat questionable. Whether it's our five year old daughter spontaneously dancing inappropriately (and what appears to be conspicuously choreographed) in response to someone's T-Pain Apple Bottom Jeans ring tone on their mobile phone or our three year old son yelling, in a near state of panic in the grocery store check out line, "oh no, mommy, we forgot daddy's beer...we can't forget daddy's beer". And in these awkward situations, the stares of judgmental bystanders are met with your best kids say the darnedest things look accompanied by "where on earth did you learn that?" response, when you know full well, daddy likes to drink beer, and mommy likes to have spontaneous dance parties in the living room on Saturday mornings. Although you know these instances will take place, you vainly take every precaution to try to keep them from happening.

So, I'm kicking around the house the other day, and I hear Reagan stumping along (as he is also prone to wondering aimlessly about the house) singing repeatedly, "Let's have a party, proceed to party". I immediately get visions of some time in the near future an embarrassing moment when, possibly at a birthday party, my son demands to have his juice poured into a Red Solo Cup so he too can "proceed to party", and I realize I have to act quickly to avert this potential social disaster. I quickly form a mental checklist and determine I have a few options:

1. Ignore it and hope he never says it again (yes, because this always works),

2. Tell him I never want to hear him sing that song again (although you know where he heard it from and that you will still wander around the house singing the song yourself), or

3. Embrace the fact that your son likes the song and offer to teach him the "real" words to the song

Feeling that I only had a few moments to alter this path toward the moral decay of my son and our family's status as social outcasts, I went with my gut and chose option 3. It took only a few minutes (as this is not a particularly complex chorus), but the following is the result of Reagan and I rapping together one Saturday afternoon:

Blue paper cup, I fill you up

Let's have a party, a birthday party

I won't spill a drop, from my blue paper cup

I like to party, at my birthday party

I'm sure Toby Keith won't mind the liberties I have taken and copyright infringement is well worth the well being of my family. And if he does, he'll have to get in line, because Eminem has first right of refusal to prosecute for a previous incident. And, I'm sure there will be many more.

Kindergarten meets Addison

As conscientious first-time parents of a kindergartener, we were concerned about the intimidating nature of the first day of school and the impact it would have on our little girl. Luckily (for us, not for Addison as you will soon understand) there was an orientation to acclimatize first timers to the structured atmosphere associated with the public school curriculum. The orientation was to be held in the gymnasium, with the school principle providing a detailed review of the modus operandi at Nolan Elementary.

The chaos created by apprehensive parents leading nervous children into the confined space that was the gymnasium made it a difficult start into an unfamiliar environment. As such, it was no surprise to Heather that Addison seemed a little timid as she approached the doors into the gym, as she had seemed of late to have lost some of her outgoing personality, being much more shy and reserved in public . However, we would later realize that her perceived reticence was due more to her vigilance than to any degree of bashfulness.

As she followed Heather into the gymnasium, she caught sight of the principle directing the masses in as calm and collected a manner as possible given the task at hand. Having met the princple on one previous occasion, we are still not sure if she recognized him as the principle or just a man of authority. At any rate, Addison seized the opportunity. Marching straight up to Principle Harwood, she thrusted her tiny hand toward him in the universal manner of greeting in the form of a handshake and said, in a loud enough voice to be heard above the constant rumble of the crowd, "Hi, my name is Addison Grace Kulisek and I have a Barbie doll house". Receiving his polite greeting and return handshake, she turned and walked into the gymnasium, as if this were a part of her daily routine for the past year.

We were worried about how to prepare Addison for Kindergarten and how she would react to this new, highly structured environment. However, what we should have been more concerned about was preparing Kindergarten for Addison. We are fairly confident that we're not the only ones that will have our hands full trying to handle that girl!

Reagan's Prayer

This will be the first post that we have dedicated completely to Reagan. Unlike Addison, it has been more difficult to convey his quirky personality, but I will try as best I can with this recent story.

Driving home following Church this afternoon, during the "witching hour" following lunch but before nap time, we were having issues with the kids fighting in the backseat. As I began scolding both kids, I ask each of them what they can do to improve their attitude. Addison, as always, is quick with a list of rehersed answers that she knows I can't challenge. Reagan, on the other hand, is not as practiced in the art of telling daddy what he wants to hear, and remains silent. So I repeat the question to him again. His response? I kid you not, the boy begins praying to God. He actually starts saying a prayer!

Heather and I cannot contain ourselves, barely fighting back the laughter that is making it hard to concentrate on the road, and the moment of discipline is lost. Once I am able to regain my composure, I have some concern that I've literally put the fear of God into the boy. So I glance back in the rear view mirror to get a sense of the impact my admonishment has has on him. The smirk he has on his face as he's looking right back at me in the mirror tells me all I need to know. He learned a valuable lesson today...I, like my older sister nearly on a daily basis, can outwit my dad.

Pumpkin Hunt

Below are some pictures from our tour around the metropolis of Dayton, TN in search of our halloween pumpkins.

Addison finding her pumpkin at Brush Creek Farms.Reagan finding his pumpkin at Wooden's Apple Farm (although we already had bought one at the last stop)

Enjoying some apple dumplings and ice cream at Wooden's Apple Farm
More pictures from the Apple Farm. Although we went in search of pumpkins, it was the Apple Farm that was the biggest hit.

Outsmarted

Once again this happened a while ago, but the story is too funny not to share.

If anyone is familiar with Disney's animated classic Robin Hood, they'll remember the opening song that starts off, "Robin Hood and Little John walking through the forest..." Well, this just happens to be one of Addison's favorite songs. Seeing how much she enjoyed the song, I decided to learn the words to the song so that I could sing it for her.

Months pass after I'd committed the song to memory and almost every car ride consisted of at least one rendition of the song being performed at Addison's request. Well one particular car ride, after having performed the song three times in a row, I tell Addison (after the third encore request), that I'm not singing it anymore.

Silence envelops the car during which time I figure she's pouting. A quick glance in the rear view mirror shows, instead, a look of concentration on her face. Less then a minute passes before I hear her ask, "Daddy, why are Robin Hood and Little John sad?"

Confused, I ask, "Addison, what do you mean? They're not said"

"Yes they are, Daddy, it says so in the song."

Rather than argue with her, I tell her, "Addison, they're not sad, listen to the song"

I get halfway through the song before I realize I've been outsmarted by my three year old. As I articulate a particularly upbeat section of the song, I look back in the rearview mirror expecting to see a look of concern on my poor daughter's face who, I'm concerned, may have misunderstood some grown-up undertones in the song. Instead, I see my daughter smiling and clapping as I'm singing her favorite song for the fourth time.

When I stop singing, I hear my innocent daughter ask, "Daddy, why did you stop singing". Too shocked at how easily I'd been tricked, I can't answer her question, as Heather is practically rolling out of her seat in a fit of laughter.

Addison didn't ask for her song again that car ride. I think she felt sorry for her poor Daddy.

4th of July Pictures

Here are some pictures from the 4th of July parade and barbeque last weekend.

Addison's Booby Trap

This little episode happened a few months ago. Below is an email I sent to Heather the morning that it happened.

Addison set a booby trap for me this morning. I made her mad somehow (probably didn't let her wear what she wanted to wear to school today), so I guess she wanted to get back at me. When I got out of the shower, she was just standing there with this weird little grin on her face, so I asked her what she was up to. She said "nothing". Then when I went into the closet to get dressed for work, I heard her shut the bathroom double doors. I was half-way dressed when I heard Addison call me, "Daddy, Reagan's awake and he's crying." So, of course I was in a hurry and tried to push the doors open only to discover that she had rubber-banded the handles together…booger! She knew what she was doing...she knew I’d be in a hurry to get through the doors. Luckily for me I still had my hands out in front of me when the doors swung back at me. So you know what I did? Nothing. I didn't give her the satisfation of knowing that she "got me". She never said a word about it, but she was in a good mood for the rest of the morning on the way to daycare.

I’ll get her back though…it’s on now. Hope she can take it as well as she dishes it out.