Trick Or Treat!

I remember two different versions of Halloween from my youth, one in which we ran around our neighborhood in a sugar induced euphoria, bouncing from house to house with out any thought in the world but how many wrappers we could pass out in by the end of the night. The other was what awesome party could I get invited to and how attractive of a costume could I come up with before that party arrived. Both of those Halloweens are fond memories, but none compared to the Halloween we had tonight. This third form of the holiday was twice as exciting, 3 times as important and 4 times as exhausting. There is so much pride at every door that opens with "awees' and ooohs" and there is such a thrill from watching the girls figure out this interesting exchange of "I knock on door and you give me candy", even though they don't know what candy is yet (but daddy sure does!). But after umpteen blocks of carrying around 30 pounds of baby, plus costumes, plus loot AAANNND trying to hold on to our dog who was sporting fairy wings and getting almost as much attention as the girls, my arms hurt, my feet hurt and my head is throbbing. I think one of those Halloween parties is actually taking place in my head right now, just behind the eyes, in one of my sinus cavities. It's way more exhausting being a parent of a kid on Halloween. And can I just rant for a little bit and say that anyone over 14 should not be trick or treating?! And definitely no one over 18. And especially, ESPECIALLY no one taller than me. If you're 6'4", you need to find something more age appropriate. And if you are under 14, but still taller then me, then get to basketball practice. ... what are you doing out here wasting that god given gift?! I don't know, as a dad with kids it feels like this is their holiday to be out and having this experience. Some junior in high school wearing a hoodie and sneakers, swearing and pushing his way through my kids to get to a free "fun sized" snickers bar really rubs me the wrong way. At the very least have enough courtesy to dress up and put some effort in. That's it. The transformation from cool guy to crotchety old man is nearly complete. Now you'll excuse me, I've got to hick up my slacks, find my reading glasses and yell at some kids to get off my lawn!

Shameless Plugs

In the constant pursuit of elusive funds for impending college tuition's I'm going to use this Friday morning to make some plugs that might help increase the savings account. First of all, I've entered a short story in a "children's bedtime story" competition that comes with publication and a cash prize. To be honest with you I had originally written a really good story and then found that I was limited by the character/location images offered in the illustration program. As I said, my original one is really good and maybe someday I'll put that one out there, but the back up is alright. So if you get a chance, follow the link and vote for my story "The Knight and the Frog".

The next shameless plug is for the book I just self published based on this very blog. OK, so it basically IS just the blog divided in to months with original illustrations added in. But there is an intro, as well as the pre-birth blog and the first 3 months written out which you can't find online, so there are things in there you can't get for free. ... I'm not a very good salesman, I know. Anyway, if you have any interest in ordering a copy you can find it here "The First Year of the Rest of My Life: thoughts and ramblings from a first time father of twins".
That's it, I'm done with my pushy sales shtick.

Fe Fi Fo Fum. ...

While it's true that size doesn't matter, I still get a small amount of joy in gloating about it. The girls had their 1 year old check ups yesterday and, in addition to a couple of shots, the doctor confirmed what we already knew - them's some big 'uns. Arianna is our "lightweight" coming in at 24.8lbs and 30.5 inches tall, still in the very top percentile. Genevieve continues to be just a little bigger, at 27lbs and 33 inches tall. As I'm still trying to get an idea of what "normal" is (by the way I hate that word) I looked up average heights for toddlers. Turns out we weren't even close to the 1 year old average, so I looked at the 2 year old stats. The "average" 2 year old is expected to be around 27lbs and 34 inches in height. ... Genevieve is one inch away from that mark and Arianna is close enough to be considered with in that size range. That means the girls, at 1, are healthy 2 year old sizes. I'm hoping that they slow down this growth rate or we are going to have a couple of Amazonians on our hand. Forget volleyball scholarships, they'd be ready for the NBA. All in all we're just happy that they are healthy, but it's nice to know that what we are doing (and who knows what exactly we're doing) is helping them grow up nice and strong. Just a little visual, the picture below was taken at their birthday party last week, the other little boy is their cousin Cameron born in August 2009, 2 1/2 months before the girls. I don't blame him for looking up at Genevieve, I just hope he doesn't get a crick in his neck.

Silver Lining

It appears that fatherhood has begun to take it's toll on my youth. Last night Gina found the first grey hair on my head, and while many a wife would pluck or dye that silver strand she knows how much that badge of honor means to me. You see I'm actually excited at the prospect of grey hair (by the way is it gray or grey, always confused by this one). Since I was a child and I learned the basics of Gregor Mendel's gene chart I quickly learned that I was doomed to my grandfathers head of hair. ... which was completely empty. ... before he was 30. My goal since then has been to maintain some form of non-embarrassing covering until at least 30 and perhaps even see a few non brown hairs make their debut before I go the way of Bruce Willis and raze the entire lot to the ground. And so, with this one grey hair, I celebrate the hope that the rest of my hairs follow suit and change their color rather then their location. ... which seems to be my shoulders and lower back.

Woo Who?

OK, so this post is not about the twins, per se, it's more about marriage and a disheartening thing I heard today. And it's not aimed at parents, or women, it's aimed specifically at the guys out there - and in theory, my daughters should they grow up and ever read these writings. To set this up for you let me start by saying I am constantly attempting to surprise my wife. It's one of my main goals, to successfully surprise her. In the beginning it was mostly my fault, like a giddy school kid I would let something slip or stupidly allude to an impending surprise, but as I got wiser it seemed that Gina's subconscious was always one step ahead of me. If I was going to buy her a camera she'd go out and buy the same camera a day before I planned to give it to her. For her birthday I secretly took the day off work and was going to surprise her that morning and take her wine tasting. ... she decided to substitute teach a yoga class. It's a losing battle for me, and yet I press on. So last week I saw that the new Taylor Swift album was coming out this week, and knowing my wife loves her I cashed in some points I'd been saving on Amazon and pre-ordered the CD. I was totally stoked this morning when I had a ship confirmation in my e-mail inbox, knowing that the CD doesn't release until tomorrow so I had pretty much locked this surprise up. Of course this afternoon Gina calls me to tell me that I'll "never guess what!" Turns out, when she went to Costco to buy dog food they had a big display offering members the Taylor Swift album a day earlier. ... cue sitcom "you've been foiled" music - wa-wa-waaaaaa! So, I'm having a conversation about this later with a male friend of mine who has been married a lot longer than me and has kids of his own and his response is "the sooner you realize that you're already married and you don't have to woo her anymore, the happier you'll be." What?! I reiterate for those that think this makes sense. ... WWWHHHHHAAATTTT?????!!!!!! Guys, this is 2010, not 1910. You're wife, you're girlfriend, you're circa 1980's best friend who you're secretly in love with but can't figure out how to tell her has options these days. Even after she's married you, with a divorce rate nearing 50% there is no stigma attached should she decide you're a chump and she dumps your ass. This is no longer a world where you can get away with wooing for 2 years and sitting on a couch with your hand on your crotch for the next 60. If you love your wife you need to show her, you should WANT to show her. This morning I overslept and while I was in the shower at 5:45, long before she needs to get up herself, Gina was making my lunch so that I could save those few minutes and get out the door. What's more, she put some toast and jam in there for me so I could eat breakfast on the road. This woman deserves to be wooed, she deserves to be surprised, she deserves to be swept of her feet time and time again (no matter how many times I fail at my attempts). And something tells me guys, you're partner deserves it too. If you're like him, if you feel wooing is something that stops. ... so too will your marriage. Those are my words of wisdom to you. And girls, my daughters specifically, if you're reading this, the moment your partner stops wooing you, the moment they stop showing you they love you, feel free to walk. You deserve more. You're worth more. And you're more than capable of standing on you're own two feet until you find someone who can sweep you off of them.

Kyle Kopp and Too Much Birthday

As I write this entry, around 10:30pm PST, I have a feeling the clock is lying to me. There's no way it's pre 2am. I am as wiped out as I've ever been. ... ever. ... e-v-e-r. They day started at 4am when I awoke to the pitter patter of little rain drops. ... not a good start for a birthday party that will be mostly out doors. Everyone got up around 7:30 and we got showered and dressed in our pre-party duds and out the door to Grandma's house to help set up, which when you are 1 years old means getting in the way. We said "damn you dirty rain" to the clouds and set up everything in pure defiance of Mother Nature and, it worked. By noon the clouds gave way to a gorgeous sunny day and the soggy ground got. ... well, a little less soggy anyway. The first guests got there around 2:45 - which let me point out one of the main differences between white people and Greek people. ... punctuality. Most "americanized" folks tend to show up either on time or early. If it's a 3 o'clock party and you're there at 3:05 you spend the next 20 minutes apologizing for your tardiness. If you're a Greek and you show up for a 3 o'clock party at 3:05, you circle the block until 4 because there is no way that anyone you know is there already. This is a point of conflict in our marriage. We compromise by being 15 minutes late everywhere and then I apologize while she waits in a corner for the people she knows. Hey, it works. Anyway the party was in full swing by 4 and let me say, it was really swinging. That house was packed! It was tough because we sent out a lot of invites, but only got a handful of rsvp's, so we had no idea if we were getting 20 people or 90 people. We ended up with around 50, 60. Nice group too. Kids were running around playing in the "kid zone" we set up in the living room. Adults were talking and laughing. Jon was cooking about 30 pounds of tri-tip. And the girls were eating up the spot light. Just perfect. I could not believe how many presents were there. ... it took us forever to get through them. But it just reminds me that my girls are really something special. They are loved by so many wonderful people, and that's how we've survived this past year. Grandma's and Yiayia's who open their doors, feed us, cloth us, change us. Aunts and Uncles (from newbies to Great, Great's) that hug us and kiss us at every turn, and some of the best friends that money can buy. ... and we don't even have to pay them! Well. ... not all of them, anyway. ;) Point is, this was an amazing way to celebrate the biggest of all birthdays - the very 1st - and it reminds me how many people truly love us and how lucky we are to have them in our lives. And let me point out that this does not mean all the people that truly love us but couldn't make it aren't appreciated as well. The distance that separates us from you is only physical, we still appreciate the emotion support and the good vibes you're always sending our way! Now to bed, like the idiots that we are we agreed to go out to brunch in the morning. Are we stupid or crazy? I'm going to say both. ... some form of "stazy". .. or is it "crupid"?

Oblivious Thy Name is Parent

We took the girls out for yet another birthday meal last night - one thing I've learned with my wife is that birthday's last a month, not a day, so there are infinite amounts of birthday dinners, lunches and celebrations. This time we went out with Gina's mom and sisters for dinner. Couple of things to account for, it was late in the night for the girls and although we gave them a late afternoon nap we were still getting to dinner about 2 hours after they normally eat, also UCLA was playing a rare Thursday night game against the #1 team in the country and finally the National League Championship baseball game was also on so any place with a TV was packed. This restaurant had about 20 TVs. ... in fact, I'm pretty sure they had more TVs then employees working. So we got there and found Gina's mom in the crowd, immediately placed an order for a hot dog, fries and avocado so we could try to get the girls fed. We then spent the next 45 minutes trying to keep Genevieve from pushing her high chair in to the aisle with her feet, Arianna from spitting milk and keeping shoes and socks on feet all while getting food down their throats and trying to ignore UCLA getting obliterated on the TV directly to my right. Gina's sisters were trying to feed the girls root beer floats, wine was being knocked over in slow motion and there were 6 conversations going on among 5 people. ... it was kind of like being in the pit of the NYSE. Anyway, after a while this guy finally comes over and tells me we need to keep it down cause we're ruining his dinner. My face went white and I turn in slow motion ready to throw down because I've had it up to here (I'm holding my hand just below my eyes so you have a reference point) and I see somebody I know. Three agonizingly slow seconds pass before I realize it's Don - a friend of a friend who's house I've been to numerous times for parties (in fact see the "nipple luge" post back in February). What's more he's been sitting at the table with his wife and kids three feet to my immediate right this whole time. ... directly under the TV I've been staring at for 45 minutes. Turns out I'm the a-hole. I'm sure they're sitting there thinking "hey it's Kyle and Gina, any minute now they are going to look at us and say 'hi'. ... any minute now. ... annnnnyyy minute now. ... a-holes!" Until they finally come over to point out how oblivious (or rude) we are. That's the thing about being a parent, at least at this age, 112% of your focus is on the kids, especially when you're out in public and there's food involved. Then you have -12% on the game (had to get back to 100% somehow) so that leaves nothing left for the world around you outside of your little bubble, which only extends about a foot and a half from the center point. So I'm sorry Don and Jenni, it was not personal that we had no idea you were right there next to us. ... we're just parents, and we're still figuring this thing out. You've had several years more practice than us. And thanks for pointing that out! ;) Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going back to my bubble.