Results tagged "Religion and Spirituality"

Enter Frank.

Hailing from the archives of unused promotional “Despicable Me”, 2010 movie paraphernalia, Frank entered our lives during one of the sweatier weekends in August. Hanging there — among duplicates of himself in the Carni Whack-a-Mole trailer at the St. Catherine’s Fair. Little did any of us know that he would soon find his way into our lives as a permanent fixture in the arms of our son. The necessity at bedtime – where is FRRAAANNNKKK? And why Frank? Usually when you ask Will what the name of something is, he comes up with something creative like BOKI, CRUD, or TIMBLEBOCHMAN. This one was very decided and definitive. FRANK. I have a few Uncles named Frank, although I don’t think this is an issue of keeping it in the family. We also have a dear friend named Frank, but I fail to see the similarities, although he might be flattered. The attraction? The one eye? The crooked smile? Frank only knows, and having never seen the movie version of this character — we think that FRANK is here to stay.

Frank, who has already required several repairs due to exhaustive play, is an everyday kind of bloak with a serious Boston accent. He practically whispers when he speaks and says things like “balls”, “you gonna eat that”, “he married a girl with ching” and “I’m gonna take him out back and beat the shit out of him” when the mailman makes the dog bark. On more than one occasion I’ve glared back — you know, trying to win the staring contest… but only once have I lost my marbs, screaming “WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU LOOKING AT”, when faced with the 5 o’clock frenzies of overtired, hungry kids that won’t admit their delirium. I mean whatever — you try having that eye on you all day… silently judging. But then that crooked smile always pulls me back in — a swamp yankee’s charm.

He agrees that saying “Oh my GOSH” or “GOODNESS” is acceptable as a replacement for GOD — but has yet to concur with an alternate to “SUCKS”… Referring to this whole Red Sox Francona mess as a “WICKED SUCK BALL” which isn’t quite appropriate, but not entirely off the mark either. He’s simple, yet diverse — and, what I think I like about him the most is, he doesn’t shed — although he isn’t above stinking the place up. Frank, since we’ve had a few months now to grow into one another, for all that he encompasses, just might last as some other plush toys do. Meanwhile, I’m trying to overlook the overall design of his being — the germ like qualities and semi-failure of his movie career. But at the end of the day, how can you blame Hollywood for it’s misgivings when Will emulates nothing short of love.

So… we are going on 3 weeks here.

3 weeks which represent the better part of a month — not quite 4, but more than 2. And since Jo’s arrival, I have to say that we are really doing our best to settle. Many people have asked, How’s Will? How is The Boy handling the new “arrival”? To which I immediately want to respond with eyes glaring laser beams of death — What do you mean? HE’S PERFECT.. But you know, he’s doing the best he can what with his entire universe being rocked, twisted and turned inside out. Babies are no joke, mind you. And if Jo could have come to us in more of a refined manner, then we may as well be catering to Emily Post… but she does have her demands. But if we can change the word “arrival” to something a little more suitable… something a little less Twilight Zone but with more of a life altering definition like SECOND COMING, right? Because we’ve been waiting a really long time to use that one… Meanwhile, Will is acting accordingly. Making the necessary adjustments and weighing his options as an ELDER. We suspect that he planned this detour and the Obsessive Compulsive genes will resurface in due time… until then, flying by the seat of his pants seems to be par for the course…and infer NOTHING from the golf reference.

Bluedog, on the other hand, has gone into complete and total survival mode. The ultimate protector. He knew this was coming… but in his infinite wisdom, he chose to wait until her arrival to engage the bomb shelter lock down. I think we have persuaded him to leave her side once, maybe twice in the past 3 weeks… Barking at cars that pass our house despite being 5 miles away… growling at leaves that fall… and MY GOD, if squirrels were once a minor blip in the corner of his eye — they are now the DEVIL HIMSELF attempting play Steal the Baby by simply thinking about approaching our yard. The other day he climbed into the UPS truck for a full on inspection and driver interrogation before Aunt Mary’s Nordstroms package was allowed to be delivered. We would question his tactics, but find ourselves somehow drawn to his rise of occasion. Aunt Mary, by the way, has spectacular taste when it comes to the color spectrum on pink — Bluedog approved the delivery.

And, me. Yes, ME. I guess I’m doing fine. Which I guess means that yes — I did just cry watching Out of Africa during a 4:30am feeding… but I might have done that anyway, baby or not. I mean 4:30am is ALL ABOUT CRYING. That is unless you’re under 27 years of age — then its all about making it to 5am. And then there was yesterday… when I realized that if I have any hope of continuing my career as a Designer that I have to change EVERYTHING ABOUT MY LIFE AS SOON AS POSSIBLE….. A grandiose and sobering realization that was easily squashed by a tall glass of Chardonnay, which consequently, made me drunk at a speed too fast to calculate. In other words, I think we are right on track with week 3. And while there really isn’t a reason to question where my little tolerance scampered off to, probably scared away by the Bluedog, we’ve calmed down today on all things future. Check in tomorrow when I decide to reinvent the wheel.

Is it a coincidence that on the same day I realize that it might be time to think about a few changes for the future, I also find myself the recipient of  a viral email from Gibby Goo Bop?

I think so.

And while I was going to start ending the week on this blog with a list of fun links, I think I’ll hold off until next Friday… BECAUSE, Did you get it too? Right? Because I know that only something like 65 billion internet users are also the proud owners of email accounts… The email, just dripping with all kinds of viral anecdotes, reads:

Related articles

• Who is Gibby Goo Bop and why did he send us this video? (shortformblog.com)

Hey you – Yeah, YOU. You out there among the wires and sparks of the World Wide Web. What do you think of this?

This post, screen captured above, belongs to Seth Godin. You can read it on his blog here.

It is really hard for me to believe that this pup is 10&1/2 years old. He’s been through quite a bit. Numerous injured paws–he once even caught a stick in the fashion of a sword swallow and had to have stitches down the back of his tongue. He was a mess, but he woke up the next morning raring to go. Two years ago he landed in an odd way after a catch, injuring his back left leg. We thought his days of serious play were over, but he modified the way he holds his leg and acts like nothing ever happened.

He’s completely stretched out on our couch right now–not wanting to move until the rest of the house wakes up. Bluer than the bluest calm, bluer than the bluest swoon and bluer than the bluest breeze. The Bluedog.

But we can certainly lust and drool over the things we can’t have. In the immortal words of Luke, “I want to learn the ways of the Force and become a Jedi like my father.” It has been my experience that if I think about it enough–drive myself insane and then think about it some more… sometimes those things that you thought you couldn’t have somehow appear with your name on them. Let the obsessions begin…

This bookcase (originally mentioned by coochicoos) by Shawn Soh.

This (or any) painting by Amy Casey – I wrote about her work @ Artistic Things a few weeks back… TOTALLY obsessed with her work.

This Rocco Pyrite Ring that I twittered about last week. Fit for a superhero (like me). This ring could double as a serious weapon..