Reek Hap
Early mornings at work and early nights to bed-slash-Ryan's floor have delayed my visiting you all this week. Howdy.
Spent most of Monday in a counter-elicitation class, taught by some dude who demonstrated how easy it is to get people to talk without even asking questions, based on judging their personalities, etc. He was from Huntsville, Alabama, and used video taped conversations with people from there to demonstrate his techniques; he later explained one reference to the local ice-skating arena by stating that it was the biggest money-maker in town, with the possibility of getting a semi-pro hockey team there, and the local college competes nationally for the NCAA title nearly every year. Plus they have midget hockey.
"Midget hockey?" I said. "Heck, I'd pay to see that."
Apparently it's not what I thought it was. He called me a smart ass (!) and said it wasn't like dwarf tossing; more like little league.
I started to feel funny after lunch, blaming the previous day's all-out diet-busting dinner, but I also had a glimmer of a headache. By the time I started driving home, my stomach was in a knot and my body was aching and hot; yet another flu. Ainsley put me to bed at 6:10pm after I put up a feeble protest.
Up 11 hours later, I felt progressively better as the day wore on; even walked on the treadmill to get the muscles stretched out for the next day's fitness test on the bike. When I got home, Ainsley showed me her project du jour: Ryan can count to five. I was so tickled! Each number belted out as almost a question but with the same intonation as "yippee!" So I will continue to teach him how to not stick a broom up the dog's butt while he's eating; Ainsley will work on the more refined bits. (He's taught himself how to hold a football and smack it into the other hand and look all quarterbacky and stuff.)
Wednesday I drove straight to Bolling AFB to take my scheduled ergonomoronic test, planned for a week after my admin staff had failed for the better part of half a year to get me scheduled. I showed up at 8:45 for the 9:00 test.
And then sat in the waiting room until 9:32 while they tried to find someone to unlock the computer password.
"Man, your starting heart rate is really low."
"Well sure; I'm practically asleep."
After keeping my tempo at 50rpm for 12 minutes while the computer decided how much resistance to put on the wheel and hardly breaking a sweat, the test stopped and the monkeys inside the computer spat out a number: 42. Above Average, said the printout. Equivalent, score-wise to having run a mile and a half in about 12 minutes. But without the perspiration or, what's that word....effort. In the complicated math involved with my medical profile, that 42 gave me an overall fitness score of 75.67, about the lowest score you can get and still be in the "good" category so they'll leave me the hell alone for a year instead of bothering me in 90 days.
We celebrated by getting rid of our child.
He just needed some out-of-house time and Grandad time, and conveniently said latter time title holder was available to give him peas and blow bubbles and count to five until we got back from dinner on the Occoquan waterfront.
Thursday was Family Day at work; bouncy castles, bands, games, funnel cakes, fire truck displays, and Ryan's first pony ride on a beautiful first day of summer day. Ryan is still going to get squished on a basketball court if we don't watch him closely as he runs under the basket with a ball perched on his collarbones ready to go to the "hoo." After a home-cooked taco dinner with Grandad, we were able, for the third night running, to put Ryan in his crib, say good nights and love yous, and leave the room, allowing him to wind himself down to sleep. It's a beautiful thing. At this rate of figuring out stuff as parents, he should be potty trained by age 12.
Spent most of Monday in a counter-elicitation class, taught by some dude who demonstrated how easy it is to get people to talk without even asking questions, based on judging their personalities, etc. He was from Huntsville, Alabama, and used video taped conversations with people from there to demonstrate his techniques; he later explained one reference to the local ice-skating arena by stating that it was the biggest money-maker in town, with the possibility of getting a semi-pro hockey team there, and the local college competes nationally for the NCAA title nearly every year. Plus they have midget hockey.
"Midget hockey?" I said. "Heck, I'd pay to see that."
Apparently it's not what I thought it was. He called me a smart ass (!) and said it wasn't like dwarf tossing; more like little league.
I started to feel funny after lunch, blaming the previous day's all-out diet-busting dinner, but I also had a glimmer of a headache. By the time I started driving home, my stomach was in a knot and my body was aching and hot; yet another flu. Ainsley put me to bed at 6:10pm after I put up a feeble protest.
Up 11 hours later, I felt progressively better as the day wore on; even walked on the treadmill to get the muscles stretched out for the next day's fitness test on the bike. When I got home, Ainsley showed me her project du jour: Ryan can count to five. I was so tickled! Each number belted out as almost a question but with the same intonation as "yippee!" So I will continue to teach him how to not stick a broom up the dog's butt while he's eating; Ainsley will work on the more refined bits. (He's taught himself how to hold a football and smack it into the other hand and look all quarterbacky and stuff.)
Wednesday I drove straight to Bolling AFB to take my scheduled ergonomoronic test, planned for a week after my admin staff had failed for the better part of half a year to get me scheduled. I showed up at 8:45 for the 9:00 test.
And then sat in the waiting room until 9:32 while they tried to find someone to unlock the computer password.
"Man, your starting heart rate is really low."
"Well sure; I'm practically asleep."
After keeping my tempo at 50rpm for 12 minutes while the computer decided how much resistance to put on the wheel and hardly breaking a sweat, the test stopped and the monkeys inside the computer spat out a number: 42. Above Average, said the printout. Equivalent, score-wise to having run a mile and a half in about 12 minutes. But without the perspiration or, what's that word....effort. In the complicated math involved with my medical profile, that 42 gave me an overall fitness score of 75.67, about the lowest score you can get and still be in the "good" category so they'll leave me the hell alone for a year instead of bothering me in 90 days.
We celebrated by getting rid of our child.
He just needed some out-of-house time and Grandad time, and conveniently said latter time title holder was available to give him peas and blow bubbles and count to five until we got back from dinner on the Occoquan waterfront.
Thursday was Family Day at work; bouncy castles, bands, games, funnel cakes, fire truck displays, and Ryan's first pony ride on a beautiful first day of summer day. Ryan is still going to get squished on a basketball court if we don't watch him closely as he runs under the basket with a ball perched on his collarbones ready to go to the "hoo." After a home-cooked taco dinner with Grandad, we were able, for the third night running, to put Ryan in his crib, say good nights and love yous, and leave the room, allowing him to wind himself down to sleep. It's a beautiful thing. At this rate of figuring out stuff as parents, he should be potty trained by age 12.
posted by Dan at 3:32 PM
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