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All the Best!

Happy End of 2010!

All the best to everyone I know for this coming year. I hope you all celebrate safely and have fun! 2010 was insane. 2011 is going to be crazier, but better! Trust me!

If you were expecting something a bit meatier in terms of content, go here.

Lewd Poisoning

What Goes In…

This is a conversation I had recently with a friend of mine. In the spirit of international comradeship, I am sharing this…

Jorge: Hey dude! How goes?
Jared: Had nasty food poisoning for the last two days.
Jorge: Never fun.
Jared: Like being on that machine that takes your life from Princess Bride.
Jorge: Yup. Except that it takes the life out of your body through your ass.
Jared: LOL!

I am such a sympathetic person.


Feel Free To Cut In If You Have Heard This…

Misfire?

Recently, Mrs. J and I decided that cutting off the kid count at 1 is the way to go for us (spare the judgement, please). I’m not all that secretive about these sorts of things with my close friends (and most people in general, really). If I was, then awesome dialogue like this would never happen…

Jorge: Ladies and gentlemen, I present: FRANKENBALLS
Krk: Which one do you call Ladies, and which one is Gentlemen?
Krk: You’re alive?
Jorge: I call one Megan and the other one YOUR MOM
Jorge: I am
Jorge: A true foodie, I am switching between different frozen veggies
Krk: Bahahaha
Krk: Locally grown I hope
Jorge: From my own garden
Jorge: A very weird experience
Jorge: To be expected
Jorge: Talked about telecom
Krk: You mentioned that we’re a cut above the rest?
Jorge: I said that we have a ball at work
Krk: … And we try not to get sacked
Jorge: There is a vas deferens between us and the competition.
Krk: BAHAHAHA
Krk: You win
Jorge: You’ve got to know when to hold ’em, know when to scrotum
Jorge: Phew
Jorge: I almost talked about attending pubic school and how it was such a close shave between pass and fail.
Krk: You had me at vas deferens…

Aren’t you glad that conversation happened? Aren’t you glad I shared that?


The Editor In Cheese

Woah

My friend Shaun recently landed a gig on The Electric Playground, leaving me his baby. It’s a daunting task to keep it going the way he did. He is full of vitality and awesomeness.

I have changed the structure a bit, and I really hope that I can do it justice. I have some friends helping me out, as writing for the site all by my lonesome would surely lead to my plunge into the abyss.

Good luck, Shaun. Thanks for having faith in me!


Fantastic

Abutt Face

So, not too long ago I was bemoaning the fact that potty training our kiddo wasn’t going very well. Granted, the reflection that I gained from counting to ten so many times allowed me to grow as a person.

We thought about reward scenarios, which also involves the flip side: punishment. Nothing horrible, mind you; putting television on temporary hiatus seemed a good way to get our point across, as it is something she likes but can live without.

A wise person told us not to bother with that. In the past, our little Squiggles has always managed to do what was right. The only condition was that it was on her terms. This is perfectly reasonable when you take a step back and look at it with with an objective eye; however, being in the trenches in World War III: The Battle of Gas Pass doesn’t make it very easy to have patience.

The other morning, before daycare, my wife and I agreed to telling the munchkin that we were going to do away with the whole system for toilet training. So, when Squiggles woke up, I gave her a big hug and told her that we were going to stop our little game and leave the potty-goings to her. I said that we would be there to help her out if she needed it, but that we believed in her.

Later that day, she told her daycare provider that she needed to go to the toilet, which was met with much amusement (our daughter is a bit of a trickster, you see). Lo and behold: she was telling the truth; pee was dispensed in the proper manner; there was much rejoicing.

Twice that day at daycare she went. At home she made us smile by going again and again. It has been a few days now – awesome days – and this exceptional behaviour seems to be the norm.

You can lead a horse to water, I suppose, but sometimes the horse is really stubborn and doesn’t want you to tell where the water is. Hell, the horse would probably remember the location better if it found the water on its own, and most likely doesn’t mind you keeping an eye on the situation from a nearby hillock.



And That Leads To…

I’m only writing this because I’ve received a few veiled complaints about “not enough updates” in the life of Squiggly Squiggles McGee.

I know a good number of people – some of them dearest friends – who write about their children frequently. In fact, some of them (a la Dooce) will write directly to their children on their blogs, which I find really sweet. In contrast, I must seem like a horrible father, as I don’t detail the awesome goings-on of my progeny here on this space.

Besides the misgivings of Mrs. Jorge for posting too many details on here, I suppose I don’t really like doing it because I don’t like to share. Call me selfish, but I think that I would like my daughter to make a name for herself instead of me setting the expectations for what she can do. Nor do I want to write her something personal for all the world to see.

Besides the urgings of others to post more about her, the issue also crossed my mind today as I marveled at how she plays so well with others and on her own. She asked me earlier today to play with her in her room. She demanded that I sit down on the floor as she made dinner. Between frying up some lemon chicken, using her play kitchen’s oven as a combination washing machine/dryer to clean her oven mitts after she spilled imaginary orange juice on them, and serving me play doughnuts and french fries, I had to smile in amusement and pride at her Julia Child-like ways. So adventurous and funny; personable and reserved when the need arises; the cliche about children being little grown-ups is very fitting here. How can one not write about this all the time?

I would most likely get carpal tunnel syndrome from all of the typing I would be doing.

To set the record straight (and every sensible parent will say this): I am really very proud of our daughter, and can’t possibly imagine life without her. She’s all kinds of awesome – and you have no idea how awesome – and I’m very sure that she will surpass her parents by a long shot.

If she happens to read this one day, this should come as no surprise. And really, it shouldn’t be a surprise for anyone else either.