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The little stinker did it again

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easter
Daily blog from a first time dad

HAPPY EASTAH!

27/03/16 22:21 Filed in: easter | 2016 | church | catholic
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Yea, it’s Easter. Happy Easter, everybody. Why did we get up early on Easter again? Church. Oh yeah, church. To remind us why Easter really exists. Thanks.

Conor, just eat your cereal so we can get to church on time. Then we need to get you dressed. I know you think church is boring. Now let’s go.

I know the seat belt is tight. That’s because you just ate breakfast and I can’t figure out how to loosen the straps. Suck in that gut.

Wow, I didn’t know this many people were Catholic, honey. There’s no room for us to sit today. I know you tried to wake us earlier. Happy Easter, remember?

Conor, you’re too heavy to hold. Then again, that cross was mighty heavy for Jesus. Okay, I’ll hold you for the entire mass. Happy Easter.

Father John rocks the sermon like he always does. I wipe the tears of empathy away. Valerie does the same. Conor’s tears are those of boredom and wanting to leave.

Mass is over. The line to say hi to Father John is tremendous. We walk by and high five him. Conor hollers, “Happy Eastah,” with his Bostonian accent. The congregation laughs.

Conor is strapped into his car seat again. The parking garage is a trap and I can’t get out. Conor says, “Mom, I kinda like church. Even though it’s really boring.”

Maybe he was moved by the Holy Spirit. All of us should be now and again. Happy Eastah!

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EASTER BUNNY MUST BE HURTIN’

26/03/16 22:04 Filed in: easter | Holidays | children
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Woke up Saturday with a plan. Easter egg hunt at 9:00am. Not easy to do after a beer hunt the night before. Silly rabbit.

Forgot the Easter basket. Where’s a grocery bag? Ding. Got it. Let’s go honey. Let’s go Conor. That bunny waits for no one at the Quincy Nazarene Church.

300 kids. That’s a lot of competition for some eggs. That Easter bunny must be in a lot of pain. Conor ties his running shoes. Damn, we forgot his helmet.

The whistle blows. The kids charge. No elbowing. No tripping. No crying. I was hoping for a little more drama. No, not really.

Conor checked his bag. Thrilled. Easter booty from the Easter bunny is worth waking up for. Even if he did whine the whole way here.

“Here dad, hold my stuff, I see a bouncy house.” Conor ran off with his friends. Wish I could find a bouncy couch. And take a nap.

Wait, what? We have to rush to ice skating lessons after an ambitious Easter egg hunt? What? Oh yes, here it is in my calendar.

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DAD GOES CURLING ON EASTER SUNDAY

08/04/12 17:54 Filed in: sports | cURLING | dads | Holidays
For the last three Olympics, for some reason I have been fascinated by curling. I can be walking by the TV and if curling is on, I come to a screeching halt, sit on the couch and the next thing I know, a full hour has passed. Cryke! So last night when a group of us friends were out to dinner, our friend, Britt's husband announced that she had won a silver medal at the Curling Nationals recently. My ear perked up and she saw me flinch. She asked if I like curling. I admitted that I did. She then asked if I would like to try it. I could hardly believe my luck. Good things really do come to those that wait. At last my prayers had been answered and I was invited to go curling. Uh, with a silver medalist, mind you.So here it is, Easter Sunday, and while my wife and 5-month old son looked, I slid a red rock onto the ice. It weighs an incredible 40 lbs. and you're not supposed to pick it up.So I didn't. I uncomfortably squatted into a crouching position with a broom in one hand and the rock in the other. I pushed off with my right foot and launched myself onto the ice. I glided uncomfortably and wobbled uncontrollably. I pretty much stunk at it. But I'm not one to give up. So I tried again, this time I leaned on the rock to control my sense of balance. It was a disaster. I tumbled over and legs, arms and brooms went everywhere. I tried yet again, unrattled by what had gone before. I was sure after three Olympic watchings on TV, I could do this with some grace. The third time was the charm. I learned from my mistakes and as I pushed off the block, I remained in control, somewhat comfortable and pointed my rock for the house across the ice. I didn't tear up but I was pretty proud of myself. Coach Britt was impressed and for the next hour I got better and better. My son was crying because it was cold on the ice so my wife took him inside the clubhouse. That's why the only footage of my paradise on ice was the third attempt at curling.Coach Britt was pretty impressed and invited me back when curling resumes in October. I'm not sure if I'll continue this new sport, but I'm going to give it quite a lot of consideration. After all, there was a bar in the clubhouse that looked like it was stocked to the gills. And a fireplace to sip my sports drink(s) at the end of the glorious day.

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