RMers with kids

[LetMeSleep]

Great story and great times, daft.

[wease]

That’s what it’s all about. Thanks for sharing, daft.

[Monkey_Driven]

More parents need to share stories like that.

When our twin boys were born, a buddy told me I won the kid lottery. He was right and I try not to make everyone else too jealous.

because they were two Aryan boys?

[tragabigzanda]

There is a wolf in me . . . fangs pointed for tearing gashes . . . a red tongue for raw meat . . . and the hot lapping of blood—I keep this wolf because the wilderness gave it to me and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fox in me . . . a silver-gray fox . . . I sniff and guess . . . I pick things out of the wind and air . . . I nose in the dark night and take sleepers and eat them and hide the feathers . . . I circle and loop and double-cross.

There is a hog in me . . . a snout and a belly . . . a machinery for eating and grunting . . . a machinery for sleeping satisfied in the sun—I got this too from the wilderness and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fish in me . . . I know I came from salt-blue water-gates . . . I scurried with shoals of herring . . . I blew waterspouts with porpoises . . . before land was . . . before the water went down . . . before Noah . . . before the first chapter of Genesis.

There is a baboon in me . . . clambering-clawed . . . dog-faced . . . yawping a galoot's hunger . . . hairy under the armpits . . . here are the hawk-eyed hankering men . . . here are the blonde and blue-eyed women . . . here they hide curled asleep waiting . . . ready to snarl and kill . . . ready to sing and give milk . . . waiting—I keep the baboon because the wilderness says so.

There is an eagle in me and a mockingbird . . . and the eagle flies among the Rocky Mountains of my dreams and fights among the Sierra crags of what I want . . . and the mockingbird warbles in the early forenoon before the dew is gone, warbles in the underbrush of my Chattanoogas of hope, gushes over the blue Ozark foothills of my wishes—And I got the eagle and the mockingbird from the wilderness.

O, I got a zoo, I got a menagerie, inside my ribs, under my bony head, under my red-valve heart—and I got something else: it is a man-child heart, a woman-child heart: it is a father and mother and lover: it came from God-Knows-Where: it is going to God-Knows-Where—For I am the keeper of the zoo: I say yes and no: I sing and kill and work: I am a pal of the world: I came from the wilderness.

[Simple Torture]

More parents need to share stories like that.

When our twin boys were born, a buddy told me I won the kid lottery. He was right and I try not to make everyone else too jealous.

because they were two Aryan boys?

Double damages if you have to sue daycare/the school district/etc.

[Bammer]

More parents need to share stories like that.

When our twin boys were born, a buddy told me I won the kid lottery. He was right and I try not to make everyone else too jealous.

because they were two Aryan boys?

Blonde-haired, Blue-eyed Baby-bams.

[dad]

thanks for sharing the story, daft. a great memory for you and your kid.

[spike]

Probably took the kid on one too many errands this morning. Quick lunch and then NAP NEEDED STAT.

[DissidentRival4]

Awesome story Daft - went through something similar with our youngest last year when he and I took a road trip to Columbus to watch the Duke/Ohio St. game. Duke lost, but the memories he and I got to create are something i'll never forget. We did a side trip to Dayton, where i grew up and had a great day there as well taking him to where the Grandpa he never got to meet (my dad passed in 96) worked and stuff like that.
I've been thinking a lot about that trip as this Sunday he will no longer be in single digits. Hard to believe that basically 10 years have flown by. I'm not much of a Facebook guy, but i do like the "memories" thing it has everyday - it's really cool to be able to look back and see how much and how far the family has come...

[Monkey_Driven]

Kindergarten Welcome tonight since the oldest officially stars next week. He's been in daycare since he was 12 weeks old, but this will feel different.

[doug rr]

good stuff daft

[daft twat]

good stuff daft

Thanks, everyone.
Last night he stayed overnight at a friend’s, and he’s staying there again tonight. Tomorrow he’s staying at another friend’s. I’m happy for him because he’s squeezing in a bit more of what summer is all about before soccer ramps ups next week and school follows shortly thereafter, but with the memories of our week together so fresh, it feels like when you’re in high school and your best friend gets a girlfriend.

My older son is home, but he’s been in his room playing Xbox since soccer practice. I’ll see him briefly when he returns to the kitchen.

[Bammer]

One of my kids hit two legit home runs this week in the final two games of summer ball. Not fielding error home runs, real ones to deep right past all the fielders. In the air. It was fkn awesome. I never had a little league home run myself, that I can recall.

And then I gave them both the choice between soccer and flag football for a fall sport. They both chose football THANK YOU GOD. I absolutely did not steer the decision, totally their choice.

Funny to me because even though I loathe soccer, I kinda pictured it being the best sport for them as little kids … good exercise, can actually still play even though it’s chaotic … if I’m lucky I will have already watched their last soccer game ever.

PS - still lots of moms on the team with breast implants

[tragabigzanda]

There is a wolf in me . . . fangs pointed for tearing gashes . . . a red tongue for raw meat . . . and the hot lapping of blood—I keep this wolf because the wilderness gave it to me and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fox in me . . . a silver-gray fox . . . I sniff and guess . . . I pick things out of the wind and air . . . I nose in the dark night and take sleepers and eat them and hide the feathers . . . I circle and loop and double-cross.

There is a hog in me . . . a snout and a belly . . . a machinery for eating and grunting . . . a machinery for sleeping satisfied in the sun—I got this too from the wilderness and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fish in me . . . I know I came from salt-blue water-gates . . . I scurried with shoals of herring . . . I blew waterspouts with porpoises . . . before land was . . . before the water went down . . . before Noah . . . before the first chapter of Genesis.

There is a baboon in me . . . clambering-clawed . . . dog-faced . . . yawping a galoot's hunger . . . hairy under the armpits . . . here are the hawk-eyed hankering men . . . here are the blonde and blue-eyed women . . . here they hide curled asleep waiting . . . ready to snarl and kill . . . ready to sing and give milk . . . waiting—I keep the baboon because the wilderness says so.

There is an eagle in me and a mockingbird . . . and the eagle flies among the Rocky Mountains of my dreams and fights among the Sierra crags of what I want . . . and the mockingbird warbles in the early forenoon before the dew is gone, warbles in the underbrush of my Chattanoogas of hope, gushes over the blue Ozark foothills of my wishes—And I got the eagle and the mockingbird from the wilderness.

O, I got a zoo, I got a menagerie, inside my ribs, under my bony head, under my red-valve heart—and I got something else: it is a man-child heart, a woman-child heart: it is a father and mother and lover: it came from God-Knows-Where: it is going to God-Knows-Where—For I am the keeper of the zoo: I say yes and no: I sing and kill and work: I am a pal of the world: I came from the wilderness.

[Bammer]

Yes football is the way to go: concussions, opiates, rampant hazing. Everything is coming up bammer.

Flag football

[tragabigzanda]

There is a wolf in me . . . fangs pointed for tearing gashes . . . a red tongue for raw meat . . . and the hot lapping of blood—I keep this wolf because the wilderness gave it to me and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fox in me . . . a silver-gray fox . . . I sniff and guess . . . I pick things out of the wind and air . . . I nose in the dark night and take sleepers and eat them and hide the feathers . . . I circle and loop and double-cross.

There is a hog in me . . . a snout and a belly . . . a machinery for eating and grunting . . . a machinery for sleeping satisfied in the sun—I got this too from the wilderness and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fish in me . . . I know I came from salt-blue water-gates . . . I scurried with shoals of herring . . . I blew waterspouts with porpoises . . . before land was . . . before the water went down . . . before Noah . . . before the first chapter of Genesis.

There is a baboon in me . . . clambering-clawed . . . dog-faced . . . yawping a galoot's hunger . . . hairy under the armpits . . . here are the hawk-eyed hankering men . . . here are the blonde and blue-eyed women . . . here they hide curled asleep waiting . . . ready to snarl and kill . . . ready to sing and give milk . . . waiting—I keep the baboon because the wilderness says so.

There is an eagle in me and a mockingbird . . . and the eagle flies among the Rocky Mountains of my dreams and fights among the Sierra crags of what I want . . . and the mockingbird warbles in the early forenoon before the dew is gone, warbles in the underbrush of my Chattanoogas of hope, gushes over the blue Ozark foothills of my wishes—And I got the eagle and the mockingbird from the wilderness.

O, I got a zoo, I got a menagerie, inside my ribs, under my bony head, under my red-valve heart—and I got something else: it is a man-child heart, a woman-child heart: it is a father and mother and lover: it came from God-Knows-Where: it is going to God-Knows-Where—For I am the keeper of the zoo: I say yes and no: I sing and kill and work: I am a pal of the world: I came from the wilderness.

[Bammer]

Yes but there’s no going back to soccer now

Damn right.

[Ello Sailor]

A few of the guys I used to play rugby with have pushed for their sons to take up soccer instead. Just so much better for you.

[Bammer]

You must have missed the baseball phenom part

[daft twat]

Yes but there’s no going back to soccer now

Damn right.

Are your kids destined to be running backs/receivers/qbs/corners? One of my best friends was a lineman in high school and he always tells me how much he hated football while he played. His own son is a successful middle school running back who is loving every minute of it.

I have watched a ton of bad soccer, but I’ve actually grown to really love the sport. I’m way less worried about my boys getting someone pregnant, too.

We have let our kids find their own way. So glad they didn’t do baseball despite my enjoyment of the sport at a professional level. Wish they had a winter sport tho.