Baseball

"Did they have backsies back then?"

This was one of Robby's many questions while we're watching the long lost broadcast of the 1960 World Series Game 7.

Some of our conversation:

Robby: So that's Roberto Clemente? (I always call Robby "Roberto.")

Me: Yep.

Robby: Wow. (we watch for a few minutes) Dad - I asked Santa for a Clemente Jersey for Christmas. I really hope he brings me one.

Me: I'm sure he will. (getting online now to order)

He wouldn't stop with the questions. Everything from backsies to, "Is this game in New York or Pittsburgh?" to "Who are the Phillies four great pitchers now, Dad?" "Are they better than the Pirates from back then?" It is one of those slivers in time where you feel like you are above the room, just looking down at the conversation, and say to yourself, "Don't ever forget this."

Robby: Is Roberto still alive?

Me: No, buddy. He's not.

Robby: How did he die?

Me: Well... he was delivering food and clothing to poor people in Puerto Rico, where he grew up, and his plane crashed. He died while he was still playing baseball and it was really sad. He had exactly 3000 hits, which is kind of a big deal."

Robby: Oh... did the poor people get their food?

Me: I'm not sure, kiddo. I don't know if he was flying there or flying back but I'm sure that someone made sure that they got some food.

Robby: Well that's good. Making sure they got their food is a big deal, too, right?

At around this time Sammy came down from upstairs (Sammy who has just been to the Baseball Hall of Fame and is becoming a pretty big baseball fan) and Robby immediately says:

Robby: Sam - do you know how Roberto Clemente died?

Sammy: No.

Robby: He died in a plane crash giving food to the poor.

Sammy: (Not really caring) Really.

Robby: No - you don't understand Sam - it was reeeeally sad!

It was about this time that Sammy realized what was on TV. I need to disclose that - despite my best efforts - Sammy is a bigger Yankee fan than Pirates fan. I can't really blame him. The Pirates have sucked since I was slightly older than he is now (MOMENT OF REALIZATION...) Holy shit. I'm old. Holy shit. The Pirates have been horrible forever. Anyway - my only saving grace is that Sammy is a fan of the OLD Yankees - not the current Yankees. He could care less about A-Rod or Jeter - his heroes are Babe Ruth and Mickey Mantle.

Bob Prince: Next up to the plate Roger Maris

Sammy: ROGER MARIS!?

Me: Yup - he was on the Yankees during this game. What's so special about Roger Maris, Sam?

Sammy: Ummm... he broke Babe Ruth's record, Dad. C'mon!

Bob Prince: (A few minutes later) Coming to the plate... Yogi Berra.

Sammy: This is AWESOME!

I'm a total dork, but Sammy is right - this is awesome!

It seems that baseball does get passed along from father to son and on and on down the line. Just before this broadcast I called my dad and asked him a few questions about the 1960 Buccos.

Spring training is only 2 1/2 months away.

Yes, Sammy, There Is A Santa Claus

I found this old article from the New York Sun (I've pasted the actual text below) and it made me start thinking about Sammy... this is probably the last year that he'll believe, unquestioning, about the magic of Santa Claus. You see - he's 7 this year and will turn 8 in July. I remember being a young child and it was about this time that some of the "cooler and smarter" kids at school started talking about Santa Claus being "fake" or "not real." I didn't know what to believe, but I certainly started asking the questions at this time... and eventually, as with all of us, my questioning was justified.

Well - as we cross this threshold of life, I just wanted to take a moment to think about the power of Christmas for little children and how magical it is to them. At some point, for me, all of this disappeared and Christmas became about getting everything done, or making sure we had enough money to buy all of the necessary gifts. It became something, most certainly, unmagical. (Is that a word - spell check says no.) Anyway - I urge everyone to take a moment, read the writing from 1897 that is below, and think about the magic in our life this Christmas. While we may know the truth about Santa, the magic is NOT gone. Think about the magic of love, the magic of children, the magic of togetherness... and don't forget that magic can exist in life - even if it isn't fat and wearing a red suit.

Yes, Virginia, There is a Santa Claus
The New York Sun - 1897

We take pleasure in answering thus prominently the communication below, expressing at the same time our great gratification that its faithful author is numbered among the friends of The Sun:

Dear Editor

I am 8 years old. Some of my little friends say there is no Santa Claus. Papa says, "If you see it in The Sun, it's so." Please tell me the truth, is there a Santa Claus?
- Virginia O'Hanlon

Virginia, your little friends are wrong. They have been affected by the skepticism of a skeptical age. They do not believe except they see. They think that nothing can be which is not comprehensible by their little minds. All minds, Virginia, whether they be men's or children's, are little. In this great universe of ours, man is a mere insect, an ant, in his intellect as compared with the boundless world about him, as measured by the intelligence capable of grasping the whole of truth and knowledge.

Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus. He exists as certainly as love and generosity and devotion exist, and you know that they abound and give to your life its highest beauty and joy. Alas! how dreary would be the world if there were no Santa Claus! It would be as dreary as if there were no Virginias. There would be no childlike faith then, no poetry, no romance to make tolerable this existence. We should have no enjoyment, except in sense and sight. The external light with which childhood fills the world would be extinguished.

Not believe in Santa Claus! You might as well not believe in fairies. You might get your papa to hire men to watch in all the chimneys on Christmas eve to catch Santa Claus, but even if you did not see Santa Claus coming down, what would that prove? Nobody sees Santa Claus, but that is no sign that there is no Santa Claus. The most real things in the world are those that neither children nor men can see. Did you ever see fairies dancing on the lawn? Of course not, but that's no proof that they are not there. Nobody can conceive or imagine all the wonders there are unseen and unseeable in the world.

You tear apart the baby's rattle and see what makes the noise inside, but there is a veil covering the unseen world which not the strongest man, nor even the united strength of all the strongest men that ever lived could tear apart. Only faith, poetry, love, romance, can push aside that curtain and view and picture the supernal beauty and glory beyond. Is it all real? Ah, Virginia, in all this world there is nothing else real and abiding. No Santa Claus! Thank God! he lives and lives forever. A thousand years from now, Virginia, nay 10 times 10,000 years from now, he will continue to make glad the heart of childhood.

Sheesh! I'm sorry...

Let me open by saying I apologize for not giving you your Morrisquads fill. I will strive to never let it happen again.... but it will happen so don't kill me. I do have five kids, you know.

OK - several things have kept me from posting recently. They are...

1. My blackberry broke while we were in the rain at the Harrisburg Senators game. Now I realize that I don't write my blog with my blackberry but I use my blackberry in gathering and organizing my ideas. (Stay with me... I'm about to let everyone in on a little secret). Since I carry my blackberry with me all the time, as I notice something that I find funny or humorous I make a note to myself on the blackberry. Then I'll go back to the device when it is time to post and the nuggets of hilariousness are sitting there for me to pluck from my electronic gathering tool. Follow? So - now that I have my blackberry back I'll post more. Okay?

2. I've been "slightly" obsessed with my fantasy baseball team recently. (If you ask Geana or any of my fellow league members the word "slightly" may be replaced with "completely" but I digress...) See - I gave up in early August and traded away my entire team for a few AWESOME players that I am permitted to keep into next year. Well as it turns out - I've skated into the playoffs and I'm actually beating the number one seed this week. I have a team full of guys named "Homer" "Gio" and "Skippy" but somehow I'm winning. He has a team full of superstars making millions of dollars who refuse to sign autographs and like to get drunk at bars with loose women. Anyway - I actually have a legitimate shot at winning this week and I can think of nothing else except winning at the moment (I can't help it... I'm competitive - but in a good way... really... I promise.) Don't get me started... I could go on but in the interest of keeping some readers I'll stop. Here is a cute picture of Sammy following my team and watching the Phils on TV. He's getting obsessed too. (By the way, the screen shows my team at 153pts and my opponent's team at 95. That's Brad Penny on the television - shutting out the Phillies after not pitching in weeks. The Phils have J. Happ pitching. Happ should be winning but he's not because he's on my opponent's team.)


3. School is starting and Geana has a job. For those of you who don't know, Geana got a teaching job for this fall. She has been preparing lesson plans and going to "teacher's only" days at her school. We're also trying to get the kids on a decent school schedule (going to bed early) and get all of their back-packs, lunch boxes, uniforms, etc. ready for the first day. Climbing Mt. Everest would be easier.

4. Lastly - football has started.

Williamsport = The Best Place on Earth.

The game was won in the final inning by the team from Georgia. One kid on the team from Washington State had the worst day of his young life, I suspect. We'll call him Brad Lidge. He was called on to relieve the starter in the final inning of the game. The starter, we'll call him Cliff Lee, had pitched incredibly - giving up one run through 5 and scattering about 6 hits. Little Lee opened the 6th inning with a walk and the manager immediately called for his closer. In comes the twelve year old Brad Lidge. He has a one run lead. The score is Washington 2, Georgia 1. There is a runner on first. Nobody is out. His job is to preserve the lead... and the win for his team. Lidge proceeds to throw three consecutive wild pitches - advancing the runner from first to second... second to third... and lastly third to home. Tie game. There were some intermittent hits and walks after this and, frankly, I can't remember how the go ahead run came in but the top of the 6th ended with Washington being down 3-2, having given up the lead, with only one more set of at bats to try to win the game... or go home. Young Lidge, for all intents and purposes, had lost the final elimination game for his team. He was visibly upset. But there was hope...

In the bottom of the 6th, Georgia brought in their closer - we'll call him Lee Smith. The kid was GIGANTIC! Like - I wouldn't be able to make contact off of this little leaguer. Anyway, in true baseball fashion, Lidge was given the opportunity to redeem himself in the bottom of the inning. There were two outs, the tying run on third - the winning run in scoring position on second base. This was when mighty Lidge comes to the plate. Redemption time. After several blistering fastballs, the count runs to 3-2 and the brave young kid fouls off, what seems like, 20 pitches. At this point Lee Smith is bringing nothing but heat. It's sheer power vs. skill. Lidge keeps fouling off pitches... he's staying alive. Battling. Finally - Smith reaches back for something special and blows a high hard one right past a swinging Lidge. The Georgia team erupts in celebration while young Lidge throws his bat and helmet and cowers into the dugout - where his coach embraces him and tells him, surely, not to cry for they have had a great season.

My dad, the boys, and I all piled into the car yesterday to venture 3 hours into the mountains in order to catch a glimpse of the Little League World Series - happening in Williamsport, PA.


Well, it's official. The LLWS has officially topped my list of fun things to do with the kids. If you like baseball, if you like free and fun places to take the kids, and if you like climbing up to the top of a hillside only to slide down headfirst on a cardboard box - then this event is for you. (The one draw back is that beer is not permitted. I know... I know... you CAN watch baseball without drinking beer - but it isn't quite the same.)



After exiting Interstate 80, the drive to Williamsport winds you through the Appalachain Mountains and, at moments, looks down upon the Susquehanna river below. We passed several card shops and fresh produce stands along the scenic drive. This is little town America through and through. Upon arrival, there are two stadiums - Volunteer Stadium and Lamade Stadium - that are connected by an awesome concourse including food stands, picnic tables, souvenir shops, and sunflower seed stands (SWEET!). Games were scheduled at 12pm, 2pm, 4pm, 6pm, and 8pm.

We got there just after the 2pm game started. We peered through the gate, hoping to find five vacant seats in the packed Volunteer Stadium to no avail. As we were standing there gawking at the Latin American team taking on Japan, Orel Hershiser breezed by us. It happened so quickly that I barely had a chance to tell the kids who he was. "HOLY CRAP! THAT WAS OREL HERSHISER, KIDS," I told them. "Who?" "You have so much to learn, children." Orel had just grabbed a hot dog, it appeared, and was heading back into the Press Box. So cool.

We finally settled in on the hills beyond the right field fence at Lamade Stadium. We figured that we could grab a drink, find some cardboard (for the hill), and wait for the 4pm game to start. The best way to describe the atmosphere there is like a folk festival. Lawn chairs littered the hillsides beyond the outfield fence and the smell of grilled hot dogs and hamburgers filled the air. The kids behind us stretched out a blanket and displayed their impressive collection of baseball pins that they had diligently collected throughout the week here in Williamsport.

The kids met new friends, slid down the hills, and talked about pins and baseball cards, while my dad and I sat back and enjoyed America's pastime being played by twelve year old boys from all over the world on a field in rural Pennsylvania - where 15 thousand baseball fans flocked to see them, cheered, and ate grilled hot dogs while they watched... and longed for a cold beer.

Rain... it breaks stuff

My parents and I took the boys to the Harrisburg Senators game on Thursday while Geana took Ella and Anna to a doctor's appointment and then got their nails done.


There are two things that I enjoy photographing more than anything else... the kids... and baseball. When the two things intersect, I thoroughly enjoy the task of snapping away photo after photo. I took this picture as we got there and uploaded it to twitpic right away... good thing I did.

When we got to the ballpark it was about 85 degrees, and rising, with 99.9% humidity. By the third inning we had spilled one large Sprite, realized that we forgot our sunblock, and went to the potty 3 separate times. (As an aside - Metro Bank Park still uses old school urinals. The last time I saw these were in Cleveland's Municipal Stadium in 1988. For those of you who don't know what I'm talking about - instead of individual white porcelain urinals - they have a single stainless steel trough that runs the length of the bathroom wall. Guys have to claim their spot, unzip, and just let her rip. No privacy. No shame. No nonsense. The boys thought this was great! Upon seeing the trough, James said, "Dad - what is this? Do you take a bath in there?" Ummmm.... no.)

The kids were miserable... like "end of the world" kind of miserable. At one point we went to the ATM machine, which was in a small air conditioned kiosk, and James said, "Dad - this is the best part of the whole trip so far!" We stayed in the kiosk until an old lady came up behind us and we had to vacate the premises. I think she thought we were robbing the machine.

Then... the skies opened up in the 7th inning. It poured. And poured. And poured. Then it let up for a second... and then it poured again. We were soaked. Before the rain started, it was up to 90 degrees and the rain was a welcome relief. I've never stayed in my seats during that type of rain at a ballgame. They were still playing and we were the only people in the seats. The first baseman for the Curve, Jason Delaney, felt sorry for us and gave us their warm-up ball after they were done and starting the bottom of the 7th. Here is Sammy and my Dad in the rain with the ball. The large streaks in the picture are the rain drops pelting down from the sky.

Eventually the umps delayed the game and we left. I took a hundred awesome pics - most before the rain came. When I went to upload them to the computer, it didn't work. Likely because the rain got the camera wet. The pictures above came from my phone that I sent to facebook or twitpic. My phone died, too. As we speak it is sitting in a bag of rice - still trying to dry out. Please keep my phone in your thoughts and prayers... UGH. I learned a valuable lesson this week - STOP TAKING PICTURES WHEN IT RAINS, MORON!

Other than the phone breaking (the camera works again), we had an awesome time. Minor League baseball with the kids is so much fun! I recommend it for anyone with kids. It's actually more entertaining than the big leagues, because of the close proximity to the players and the fun games in between innings. Sammy caught a t-shirt, too.

1 Year Ago

Exactly one year ago, yesterday, was the worst day of my life. If you are new to this blog, our family endured emergency brain surgery to Sammy (our oldest) at about 6:15 in the evening, followed by a devastating house fire at about 9:15pm - from which our friend and Geana's sister safely evacuated all four of our three year-old quadruplets as well as their own two children (cousin Justin is in the pic above). Sammy was hospitalized for a week and we were out of our house for about 4 months as it was cleaned and rebuilt. As I reflect back on those memories, I can't help but be grateful for each member of my wonderful family. We could have easily lost all of our children on August 1, 2008.

Sammy:
Thank you for being so sensitive. I know that I get on you at times for not being "tough" enough and for not sticking up to your little brothers when they gang up on you. I know you can do it and just choose not to. When I really sit back and think about it... I'm glad that you are so caring of the others around you. That deep rooted quality within your being will set you apart from almost everyone else as you grow up. I urge you to not let go of that piece of you as you get older and to let it be the foundation of who you become and share it with everyone who gets close to you. It makes you incredibly special. I love you. Thank you, also, for you increased interest in baseball this past year.

James:
You're always trying to make people laugh around you and I see the delight in your eyes when you achieve your goal. Sometimes you cross the line to inappropriateness (is that a word), but as you get older and learn how to navigate that line and make people laugh without talking about poop and butts (sometimes it still works), you'll become even more funny and make me laugh even more as time passes. Thank you, also, for allowing me to link back to a poop joke in this post.

Robby:
You're brilliant. Your mother and I know it. Sometimes, though, your brilliance is lost in your strives to gain our attention. I'm sorry for that. Please know that we can see past your misbehavior and occasional craziness into the bright, smart, and intelligent little boy that you have become. I will strive to give you the attention that you need in order to help bring out the incredible little boy that lives within you. Thank you, also, for all of your help while I've been in my cast. You've done everything that I ask of you - even taking out the trash at the ripe old age of four years old.

Anna:
You are so caring of your brothers and sister as well as your Mom and Dad. You constantly are doing things to make your siblings laugh - usually so that they stop crying. You're wonderfully wacky and I can see the creativity that bubbles within you. You're also hot and cold, my dear. When someone crosses you (even if it's me) you aren't afraid to show me how you feel. But then your crooked smile lights up my eyes and your dimples pierce my heart. You are my grandmother - Gram Morris - through and through. Thank you for living up to the nickname, "Drama" that I gave you when you were a weeeee little baby.


Ella:
You may have the smallest body in the family but you have the biggest mouth. I can hear you as I walk up the street, walking home from work. You're usually yelling at Robby and James or calling for your Mommy. Fortunately for those around you, your hugs are as big as your mouth. Honestly - I've never felt a hug from someone that is so strong and complete as when you give me a hug. Your fake kisses, as you lick my cheek, are wonderful, too! You fill my heart and every one's who comes around you. Thank you, also, for learning to snore so loudly that you wake me up in the morning when you come into Mommy & Daddy's bed.

Geana:
We've been through a lot this year and, though it all, we've remained together. Sometimes that's simply enough when the stress gets so great that you don't know what to do and don't know where you can turn. I'm looking forward to a new year with a little less brain surgery, some fewer house fires, and a little more time for the two of us... together. Oh yeah - and congratulations on your Master's Degree that you just finished in July. You did it - despite all of the stress and craziness!

OCNJ - Day 3

The kids, again, woke up at the crack of dawn and wanted to play. Grandpap had gone to the local donut store already and was armed with bait to lure the kids upstairs to the kitchen and bought Geana and me an extra 10 minutes of sleep. It wasn't much but it was something! Nice work Grandpap!

We decided that we wanted to spend the day doing something that Daddy could participate in. I can't swim in the pool... I can't go to the beach... I can't really do the boardwalk very well without falling on my face... so we decided to go crabbin'.

Let me preface our trip by saying I hate fishing. I hate the smell of fish. I hate the way fish feel all slimy. I hate the sight of fish. I hate anything having to so with fish. I mean - I love shrimp, lobster and crabs... but fish - not so much. We got there and the guy reached into his "bucket 'o dead, gross, fly infested fish" and cut a dead bunker in half with his hatchet, spearing him through the eye onto our crab lines. Our bait was set. I just about puked... Robby said, "COOOOOOL!" I'm a wimp. It took Anna about a half an hour to get down from standing on the picnic table because she was so grossed out. SO... either - a) Anna takes after her Dad or - b) I'm a four year-old girl when it comes to crabbin'.

We all got our chance to hold a crab. We caught one without any claws so it was safe for everyone to hold onto him.

James - who at home loves to dig for bugs, worms and other creatures - had the time of his life!

Sammy...
Ella...
Robby...
Anna...

On the ride home from crabbin' all quadruplets fell asleep. I have a theory (which was confirmed today) that people are designed to nap from 3pm to 5pm. If it were not for the wonder drug, coffee, I would succumb to a nap everyday at around this time.
Dinner was spent at the Deauville Inn where Sammy decided that he was too big to order from the kids menu and asked for Chicken Parmesan instead of a hot dog, macaroni and cheese, or chicken fingers. I think that NOT ordering from the kid's menu is as much a passing of age as your first kiss or the first time you experience the death of a loved one. Well - maybe not that much but something certainly changed tonight. Our seven year-old is growing up. Here is a picture of Sammy from 2003, just before our first visit to the Deauville Inn - before the word "quadruplets" was even a thought in our family...

All Stars!

I sat down last night to watch the HR Derby with Sammy. Is there any better sporting event to share with your 7 year-old son? I think not. We donned our team's uniforms, got some ice cream, and settled in for the extravaganza. It started off with David Cook - the legend from the other TV show that we watch together. Neither of us made it all the way through it (we fell asleep) but we had fun saying, "Back - back - back - back.... GONE!" a la Chris Berman for awhile.

Fast forward 24 hrs. to this evening and we took our spots on the couch again... watching the hype, adoring our players, and waiting for the game to begin. This time it was Anna and me watching the game. Sammy joined us later (after his game of war with Mommy) but the night started out with just me and Anna. I started taking notes right away. Here were some of the priceless moments that I enjoyed this evening watching the game with my 4 year-old daughter:
--

TV: From the New York Yankees... Shortstop - DEREK JETER!
Anna: Daddy - why do they call him Derek Cheater? Are all the Yankees cheaters?
Me: Yes, dear.
Anna: That's what I thought.

--
Pepsi will be happy to hear that, as we're sitting there together drinking our generic brand of root beer and watching the festivities drag on and on, Anna turns to me and says, "Daddy - why do they keep saying 'Pepsi' all the time? Maybe we should be drinking that instead of root beer." Holy crap! That marketing stuff really does work!
--
Why is it that the Pirates didn't even have a representative in the "All Stars Among Us?" Not one of them was wearing a Pirate's jersey. We really do stink.
--
Sammy came in just as the game was beginning and proceeded to expound on how he learned, at the local library, that baseball started during the Civil War when soldiers needed a break from fighting and made up baseball to pass the time. That's why it's called the National Pass Time.
--
By the bottom of the 1st - Anna was asleep and Sammy was ready for bed. A fun night was had by all - for sure!

Birthdays, BBQ's, and Broken Bones

Talk about a lot going on.... wow!

Sammy's birthday went well. We got him a basketball hoop, finally got it put together thanks to help from Poppy, and now he's a regular Magic Johnson. He even beat Kevin, a seventeen year-old friend of the family, although I suspect Kevin went easy on him. Here is the star taking a second to mug for the cameras...


But what I suspect everyone will find the most hilarious piece of the weekend was me fracturing the fifth metatarsal on my left foot. Yup - that's right... I broke my foot. It happened just after we had gotten Sammy's hoop from Target. I was carrying the 250 lb. behemoth into the house in an attempt to get it out of the rain. It was still in it's box and the rain was starting to come down pretty hard. I figured it best to get the thing inside. Well... I dragged it from the street to the driveway... to the door... lifted it over the threshold... slammed it down to the kitchen floor.... BOOM!! Success! It was a tough task in flip-flops, but I got it done - sans injury. It was when I went back to the car to get the loaf of bread that I rolled my ankle on my wet flip flops on the sidewalk.


At first the ER Doc thought it was the dreaded "Jones Fracture." An ordeal that keeps people off their feet for up to 20 weeks - especially Diabetics, of which I am one - and often times requires surgery with pins to get it to heal properly. To put this into perspective - I would have only one functional leg until CHRISTMAS - including hospital time and about a week of complete immobility for surgical recovery. Yeah... that would fall into the "sucks" category for sure. Lucky for me - it was just a standard run of the mill "klutz fracture" and I'm only going to be incapacitated for 6 weeks or so. The good news out of all of this... I drove down to Delaware to pick up my cool new roll-a-bout just in time for the neighborhood July 4th parade. Ella and I won 2nd place.


Rule of thumb: If you are forced to look like a dork, for any reason at all, include a kid because then it becomes less about you looking like a shmoe and more about the kid looking adorable.

Unfortunately I head back to work tomorrow, with no kids at my side, and I will be back to being a dork...

Accepting Votes for Parents of The Year!

The other day Sammy was playing the theme to Jaws on the piano. It was innocent enough - it was even unintended. Da Dum... Da Dum...

We searched for a YouTube clip that had the theme song so that we could show him. Upon looking and looking and looking - Geana finally found one and showed it to Sammy - who thought it was pretty cool. I mean, I guess he thought it was cool because he kept playing that damn song (if you can call it a song) for the next hour. Da Dum... Da Dum... Da Dum...

This led us on a trip down memory lane and we looked up the details of the movie online. It was made in 1975. It starred a young Richard Dreyfus, and - to our surprise - it had a PG rating! "WHAT?" "ARE YOU KIDDING ME" were some of our comments. Yup - PG. Check it out here. This quickly led to a discussion that went kinda like this:

Geana: It's rated PG - we should watch it with the kids.
Kurt: Totally!

We couldn't wait for Netflix so we ran to Hollywood Video to rent the movie (yes those stores still exist). Make some popcorn and hand me a soda, Mom, we're about to watch a shark eating people at the beach! Woo Hoo!! Robby and James were psyched! Anna and Ella - not so much. Sammy - still playing Da Dum... Da Dum...

We got home, turned down the lights, and settled in to watch the movie.


I should place a disclaimer here that we do teach our children that everything on tv is fake and that it is just pretend. Ella's response is always, "Everything on tv is fake... except for us, right Daddy?" Turns out this is true.

Anyway - back to the movie...

Anna & Ella took solice in each other. They pretty much sat next to each other, hugging, the entire movie. Mommy and Daddy took turns hugging them, too, of course. Robby and James were running around the room with their hands sticking up like a fin saying Da Dum... Da Dum... And Sammy sat next to us and watched intently, really enjoying the movie. If this wasn't Parental Guidance, I don't know what is.

I do have to say that - HANDS DOWN - the universal "favorite" part of the movie was when they were all in the boat, at night, drinking and singing the song, "I had a drink about an hour ago and it went straight to my head!" See - this is the song that Grandma sings to them at bedtime when they visit her house. We'll see how that goes next time she sings it...

Oh - and our beach vacation is in less than a month!

Tonight

We have a CYO Mass at 5:00 tonight followed by a banquet where Sammy is getting an award. As a parent I'm really torn. I do want to see Sammy get his award, but my other kids' bed time is 8pm sharp. What's a guy to do? Out of concern for the youngsters, I think I need to skip out early (provided that Sammy has already received the award) to ensure that they get their proper sleep.

Geana doesn't seem to believe me.

A Fond Farewell to the School Year

We're approaching the home stretch here. The kids are done with nursery school after this morning and Sammy just has a few more days left and it's off to 2nd grade!

I was helping Sammy with his homework the other night and was enjoying an ice cold Heineken as I was helping him glue his Zack & Cody pictures onto his paper bag vest. The task was to create a vest based on the book that he just read, "Zack & Cody: The Suite Life". (It's a show on Disney but they also have several books... anyway) Geana did the lion's share the night before with him and I was simply helping with the finishing touches. You know - gluing some pictures on and putting the last minute stickers all over... the usual. It was looking good!

Let me take a minute to say - I rarely drink beer and help my children with their homework. Honest. This just happens to be one of those times where... oh... forget it... it's just not gonna come out right no matter what I say. I had about half of my beer with dinner and the bottle remained on the table after the meal so that I could finish it after cleaning up the kitchen. Sammy was also doing homework at this table.

You can probably see where this is going... in Sammy's attempt to reach for the glue, the beer bottle spilled all over his homework (narrowly missing the vest - THANK GOD - but getting all over his math assignment, school folder, and school bag). I quickly tried to clean it up but it was too late. The beer had soaked into the math paper and into the folder. I hung them both up to dry in the kitchen but nothing gets out the smell of beer. Nothing. I even tried to spray some fabreeze on them, but that just made it smell like someone spilled beer on this homework and then tried to cover it up by spraying fabreeze on it. I tried to think of something else to do but at that point the homework would become illegible if any other liquid touched the page. UGH. What's a guy to do?

Anyway - looks like my kid (in a cast) is going to have to take his homework into school and explain to his teacher that his father spilled beer all over his homework and that is why it smells the way that it does. Then the jackass tried spraying it with fabreeze. Sometimes I think it's amazing that they even let me have children.

Adults vs. Kids

The girls had their annual (I guess it's annual - this is our first season) girls vs. Parents softball game. I was super excited for the game... but came home utterly amazed at people's... umm.... lack of awareness (nah), blatunt disregard for safety (nah), f-ing stupidity... that's it.

Someone should tell these 30 to 40 year-old men that they are playing FOUR YEAR OLD GIRLS! Seriously - I wish I had my video camera with me because I couldn't believe what I was seeing. Some of these dudes were crushing the ball to the fence. Literally - taking a stance and swinging as hard as they could. One guy actually hit the fence on a fly. Never mind that there were about 10 four year-olds about 15 feet in front of him - none of which were actually paying attention enough to follow what was going on or be alert if a screaming liner happened to be hit their way. Way to go dude... you can hit a softball, thrown from a pitching machine, to the fence on a tball field. Hey - maybe you should unzip and whip it out, too. This'll really show all of the other parents how manly you are. One thing is for sure - it would be equally inappropriate.

Only one kid actually took a line drive off of her head today... Anna. She's fine - but of course it happened to my kid. That dude's kid was probably picking her nose, ducking behind the pitching machine for safety. Geana asked Anna if she was okay and she was upset that she didn't catch the ball but she stayed in the game. In related news, Anna came in second of about 30 girls in a cut-throat game of "Simon Says." She only lost to a 6 year-old but was visibly upset when she was eliminated. She is, hands down, the most competitive of my kids. One time we were playing "The Quiet Game" and about 20 minutes after I thought we had completed the game she tapped on my shoulder asking the non-verbal question, "Yo Dad - can I talk yet?"

Speaking of injuries - Sammy is on the 15 day DL. He helped coach firstbase today and followed the coach around because of his cast. He actually thought it was a lot of fun.

Happy Mother's Day to all the Moms out there!

Sesame Place

I'm a big supporter of capitalizing on the fact that I have a million kids. Hey - why not? As long as I don't put them in stupid situations or set them up to be ill-equipped adults, I'm fine.

Our latest endeavor was to send Sesame Place some photos of our family in the hopes of being chosen to open their new attraction, The Count's Splash Castle. They wanted 6 families with multiples to help open the attraction. My guess is so that The Count can be there and do something wacky with the kids... like counting them.

So - on May 16 we will be heading over to Sesame Place for some good old quadruplet fun where we'll dress them up all the same, let them play in the new attraction, and then spend the day at the park being "treated as VIP's" whatever that means. I'm envisioning a day of being carted around in a chariot that is being pulled by Snufolupogus. My guess is, as usual, I have set my hopes too high. We'll see.

This was the picture that we sent:


Can you see why we won? I have such adorable kids!

2 Trips to the ER Later

So I'm not sure if Geana will ever leave me alone with the kids again. Two of our kids had the privilege of taking a trip to the ER yesterday, largely because I was in charge over the weekend. Let me explain...

On Friday night, about a nanosecond after Geana left, Anna rolled over on top of Sammy and hurt his thumb. It was clearly hurt but he could move it. We put some ice on it to keep the swelling down and moved on our way. There were minor complaints throughout the weekend concerning things like putting socks and shoes on but nothing major concerning the thumb. He even played tball on Saturday with no problem. I believe the words, "just rub some dirt on it" never actually came out of my mouth - but they should have.

When Geana got home yesterday he said that practicing piano hurt him and he showed her his swollen thumb. We promptly took him to the local pediatric orthopedist who happens to live just across the street. Her diagnosis - probably broken... take him to the ER.

When all was said and done... X-Rays - broken thumb - sent home in a splint - getting cast today.

On Sunday night, about a nanosecond after Geana came home, Ella was having trouble catching her breath and wouldn't stop coughing. She had complained about her neck hurting throughout the weekend. This is usually her way of complaining about her acid reflux. Honestly - I know that I missed some of her medications this weekend in all of the commotion of watching five kids. She's on Flovent, Albuterol, Zyrtek, and Prevacid several times a day. When she misses her meds, she goes downhill very quickly. I feel horrible.

Anyway - her diagnosis was NO PNEMONIA! Yay! She does, however, have an ear infection and was having a pretty sever asthma attack. At 4am Ella and I crawled into bed and were promptly awoken by Robby and James wanting to get up and get ready for school at 5am.

When casting your ballots, please consider me for "Father of The Year."

Sac Bunts and Grand Slams

We went to the Riversharks game yesterday. The kids lasted until about the sixth inning when we finally had to get up and head over to the funzone. (We didn't actually go into the funzone because the moon bounce was broken and all other activities were a bit old for our crew). Dewon Brazelton pitched and I got to see Junior Spivey play SS. It felt just like 2002.

At one point - Sammy asked, "Why is that guy holding his bat out sideways like that?" This was a monumental moment for me because it is the first time Sammy asked me a legitimate question about the goings on in a professional game. HE'S PAYING ATTENTION AND FOLLOWING THE GAME! YES!! Season tickets... here we come! I told him that he is trying to just push the ball back towards the pitcher and it's called a bunt. Brilliantly, he replied, "but he'll get thrown out. Why would he do that?" Now it was my pleasure to explain how the sacrifice bunt works. See there were guys on 2nd and 1st base and he was trying to bunt them up a base. I'm not sure if he understood at first but then on the next pitch the batter laid down an awesome bunt up the 3rd base line. The throw came from the pitcher to 1st and the runner actually beat it out for a bunt single. After he saw the play, I'm pretty sure he got it.

Today we were watching the Cubs play the Marlins on WGN (the conversation about baseball quietly being on WGN all the time will come next year, presumably) and the bases were loaded for Derrek Lee. Sam looked at me and said, "If he hits a homerun, Dad, he'll get a grand slam." Again - I'm loving this! Then Lee did it. He went yard and hit the Grand Slam! High fives and chest bumps followed in our living room.

Sammy also is aware that a lefty who is facing a fireballer like Dewon Brazelton could line a screaming foul ball down the third base side, into the stands. Having the memory of his head injury fresh enough in his mind, he didn't take any chances when a lefty came to the plate and took the proper precautions.

STILL Better...

Hello to the Fam!

All Better... kinda!

Sammy is back to his old self again (just about). He just got back from a trip to the mountains with Geana and some of her friends. This was a picture of him out on a kayak on the lake. There is plenty of fun stuff that he can do while he's still letting his head heal. Kayaking is one of those things. He's also signed up for Cross-Country. We figure running is okay. Hopefully no kids will whack him in the head with a baton or something in some relay race. It's going to be some time before he can play things like soccer, football, baseball, hockey... so for now being a track star will have to suffice. The olympics help. He's starting to learn to live with the limitations, which is good. Also - this will allow him to experience other things that he may not have had the opportunity to do otherwise... yeah right.

He said a funny (is that the right word... probably not) thing to Geana yesterday. After his Cross-Country practice a group of the kids were playing a pick-up soccer game. Of course, Sammy couldn't participate. He turned to Geana and said, "Mom - I'm disappointed in you. If you hadn't signed me up for golf camp - I wouldn't have gotten hurt and had to have surgery. Then I'd still be able to do fun stuff."

I think this is harder on us than it is on him, sometimes. BUT HE GOT TO KAYAK!!

Chicks

Sammy graduated from Kindergarten yesterday. It was one of those proud moments that you have as a father. One of those few experiences that reaches the pinnacle of admiration and pride that you have in your child. You will only experience these moments a handful of times in your child's lifetime.

I asked Sammy what his favorite part of Kindergarten was, now that it is over. The conversation went something like this:

ME: Sam - what was the best part of Kindergarten.

SAMMY: I don't know.

ME: Come on - you had to have liked one thing more than anything else.

SAMMY: I guess.

ME: What is it?? What was your favorite thing?

SAMMY: Um.... the chicks.

ME: .... (silence)

SAMMY: They were cute, but when they got too old Mrs. Huff sent them away.

ME: (more silence)

SAMMY: I'm think I'm gonna try to get one of my own when I get older. Do you think we could do that? Is there a chick store? And when it gets too old we can send it away and get another one... pleeeeease?

ME: Talk to your mother.