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I Feel Itchy

I am going to take a break from telling you about how you ended up sleeping with your Jayhawk.  Today there seems to be a more appropriate story to tell you son.

The meaning of Columbus Day to your mother and me.

Your mom and myself had just started dating.  In fact, it was our second date in two days.  Your mother could not get enough of me from our first date that she called me the next day and wanted to go have dinner and movie.  When I start teaching you about dating I will teach you about the three-day rule, it is a fictitious rule saying that men must wait three days after a date to call a girl.  In my youth, I believed this rule.   Your mother on the other hand wanted to see me so badly that she couldn’t wait.  Well little did she know that neither could I.   Of course I agreed.

We went to dinner and started off where we left the day before.   Talking like we knew each other for years.  Your mother was a teacher at the time and it was coming up on Columbus Day.  We got to talking about what she was going to be teaching her kids and that we both felt it was odd that we celebrate a man who came to a new country and almost killed off an entire race by exposing them to diseases.

I can not remember our exact conversation from this point.  All I remember is her saying

I feel itchy

In reference to the native Americans from that point on had diseases that would kill them off.  We both laughed and I also believe it was that point that I knew your mother would someday be your mother.

I did not finish my meal because our conversation was just that good, plus we had a movie to make, and I was going to make a move to hold her hand.  You will understand the nervousness about making that first move, maybe someday I can tell you about our first kiss.  That is a story that will leave you laughing.   But I’m off track.  I had a to-go box and your mother took a pen and drew an Indian saying “I feel itchy”

I won’t bore you with the details of the movie, I don’t remember what it was, and no I didn’t make the move to hold her hand, that happened in a couple more days, in fact it happened the night I first kissed her, again more later.

That box that your mother wrote on sat in my apartment refrigerator until I moved out and in with your mom nearly 4 months later.   That is how much that box meant to me.   It was a moment that I knew your mother was special and that I wanted to be with her.

To this day, when Columbus Day comes, this is the story that I remember, and the quote “I Feel Itchy” is said about a few dozen times.  If it were not for Columbus Day, your mother may not have been your mother.

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American Moms Deserve Better!

There are a few things that I have a passion for baseball, University of Kansas Sports, being a dad, and over the course of the last two years after learning what my wife’s maternity leave policy was, I am joining the fight for moms on Maternity leave.

Hot Mama was only able to use up her PTO days once the Kid was born and then after that her leave was unpaid. UNPAID! So instead of Hot Mama taking 3 months of leave she only took 2 months of leave. I do not know how we did it but we did.

I thought I would share with you this infographic that I received from Take Part about the United States vs. the rest of the world in maternity leave.

Courtesy Take Part

American Mothers deserve better!

9/11: A Reflection

I wasn’t going to write about 9/11.  It is such a difficult event to write about and brings to many emotions to me, as it does with every American, but I was writing a blog the other day listening to iTunes and the song I Believe (9/11 Remix) by Blessed Union Of Souls came on ( if you want to watch the video you can, I chose not to embed it on my blog to give you the choice if you want to see the images or not).  This song I play every year on 9/11 because it is the one way that I remember best what happened.

It immediately brings a tear to my eye every time I listen to it.   I know it has been said, we will all remember what we were doing that day.   I can remember it like it was yesterday.

I was taking a math test in high school.  I was a junior at the time.  I remember walking out of the commons area where we took the test and back to the classroom.  In our high school, our library was open and everyone could look in it.  I remember looking in it as we passed and seeing the TV on and just seeing something with a lot of smoke coming off of it.   First, I thought that a volcano had exploded.  I was VERY wrong.

I walk into my next class still not knowing what was going on, still no idea that anything this horrible had happen.  I went to Mrs. Brom’s English class.  I remember the words out of her mouth that day…

“I don’t want to talk about what has happened today because it is a horrible day for the United States.  I’m not going to turn the TV on because it is just to difficult to even watch.”

In my head I just wanted to say that some of us have no idea what is going on.  But in our high school Mrs. Brom deserved a lot of respect and so I gave that to her, she was just that type of teacher.   All during class I was wondering what the hell was going on!

We had an open lunch and I usually ate lunch with some friends at their house, but that day I rushed home, I knew something was going on that I needed to know about.  I don’t even remember eating lunch.  I turned the TV on and was glued.  I was shocked, stunned, scared and angry.  How could someone do this to us? Who would want to do this to us? Why would they want to do this to us? Were all questions that even around noon that day the news media still didn’t have answers to.  I wanted to stay home and watch, why were they leaving us in school when something like this was going on?   I started to develop bitter feelings for my teacher who never told us what happened, but days after that, I knew I shouldn’t be angry with her.  We all dealt with this tragic event in our own ways and that was her way of dealing with it.   How I dealt with it, honestly I can’t remember, but like most Americans after that day I felt our country get just a little bit smaller and more patriotic.

This year on the 10th anniversary of the event, may we remember the people who lost their life on that day, the days after, and everyone who lost their life after defending this country against terror.  May their families be in our thoughts and prayers not only today but everyday.

We will never forget!

Yo, Neighbors, I have an 8 Month Old!

© The Rookie Dad

Praise to the holiday that people stimulate the economy by spending thousands of dollars to blow things up!  Ok well to most people you don’t spend thousands of dollars of on fireworks, but in our neighborhood people spend thousands (as reported from my neighbor who said that one of the guys in our area spent $4000 on fireworks).  These aren’t your quiet fireworks either.  These are louder than the average one, some that just go up in the air and have a loud boom, so loud in fact that it wakes me up and gives me flash backs to college, waking up and yelling at the upstairs neighbors for being loud.

I don’t mind them shooting off fireworks at all, this is after all the birthday of the U.S.A. and should be celebrated, I understand that, but the holiday falls on July 4th, not July 3rd, July 2nd or even July 1st.   Our neighbors on July 2nd were shooting fireworks well into the night, again I don’t see anything wrong with this, or I didn’t until I had a baby.

They scared the chipmunk.  He got very clingy to mom and wouldn’t let go, burying his head in her.   Reports from my lovely wife say that he wasn’t able to sleep because of them.  Ok, I understand up until a certain time but shooting them off at 11:30pm when you have to be at work the next day, seriously?  What do you do for a living that you can just blow up $4000 worth of fireworks?

It was a long weekend with the chipmunk, as he couldn’t sleep with people lighting off a roll of 1000 black cats.   I just wish that some of our neighbors would have be even slightly considerate of people in general instead of shooting fireworks at midnight.

I really hope that I am not turning into one of those grumpy old men, like Clint Eastwood from Grand Torino.   I was hoping that I had a few years before I told kids to “Get off my lawn”


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