You wanna hear God laugh? Tell him YOUR plans.

Trying out my new copier/printer/scanner tonight, I came across this picture of Ang and me celebrating our 5th honeymoon in Cancun, some 11 years ago.

She told me the night before we left she was pregnant with Ciera and I was dead set on having one child and calling it a day. I had our whole life mapped out; me, Ang, our child, and a dog to sort of balance out the whole thing.

Fast forward to tonight, as I passed by our bedroom and caught the following sight.

2 boys, 1,347 gray hairs, and several medical bills later here we are.

We've got 3 kids, I'm hanging on by my last nerve, and Ciera is going to middle school next year. Rakes and Trot are doing their best impression of Clyde Barrow, I look like I've aged 30 years in the last 11 and Ang hasn't changed a bit.

I wouldn't have it any other way.

One good thing about life; it never happens like you figured it would.

I can't wait to see what the next 11 have in store.

A Moment of Clarity.

Like most of the important things that happen in my life, this one came completely out of the blue. It also came while I was discussing with Rakes why that girl was getting arrested on COPS and what exactly crack meant.

I have no clue why he's so fascinated with COPS, but I'm hoping it's because he's dreaming of a future in law enforcement. Although I've got to admit the idea he's researching ways to beat the system has crossed my mind more than once.

Tonight's moment of clarity came when he asked me to hold his hand and I looked down and saw how small his little paw looked in mine. I got Ang to take a picture for posterity and that only made my anxiety level rise even more.

It was at that moment, as I looked at this picture, that I sort of grasped the enormity of being a Dad to a little boy; his hand looked so small in mine right now, but a few years from now it'll be the same size or better and I'll be sitting around wondering where all the time went.

I realize he's only 5. And I also recognize the fact I have OCD and always imagine the worse. But as I looked at his little hand in mine I had about 3,458 different scenarios run through my brain and none of them were good.

As I looked at this picture I had a brief moment of panic, followed by that lone sane voice left in my head that said "you've done the best you can."

I've never wished for a Red Sox game to be on my tv to take my mind off real life more than I wished tonight. 'Cause I sure could use a mindless distraction right about now.

Anyone got a Nintendo DS video game they'd let me borrow?

(sticks tongue out at Tex)

I laugh at Black Friday.

I know what you're thinking. How can those angelic faces cause me to have a bleeding ulcer, gray hair, and have a full time shrink on the payroll?

Spend a day walking in my shoes and see if you ask that question again.

Today was Black Friday, which means if you work retail you're basically screwed.

I'm tired, aggravated, and if someone asks me "What's the best price you can give me on that?" in the next 12 hours I'm pretty sure I'm gonna lose it. That said, I made some good money today and didn't try and disembowel anyone so I guess you could consider it a pretty good day.

Thanks to a "Deadliest Catch" marathon on the Discovery Channel and Rakes not breaking Trot's arm during the daily round of "How I Trained To Be A Cage Fighter" I'm halfway calm right now.

Check with me again tomorrow night.

The day after Thanksgiving ain't got NOTHING on me.

Reason # 4,984 I'm destined to be committed.

After a 2 year layoff due to moving one year and Trot being a holy terror the next, a real live Christmas tree is now in my living room. The house smells great, I've got pine tar all over my hands and my wall has a new hole in it for the wire being used to keep the tree from getting pulled over.

Yes. My tree is tied to the wall. We learned our lesson last year after hearing a sound much like a Sasquatch doing a belly flop and found Trot lying flat on his back with the artificial tree on top of him. I think he was trying to climb it, but he could have just been seeing if he could hit his brother with it; it could really go either way.

Ang put the lights on while I supervised from the comfort and safety of the upstairs office and Ciera and Rakes put the ornaments on.

There are now 37 ornaments hung approximately 2 feet 7 inches off the ground.

Ciera proves she's the brains in the operation by getting the step stool out to actually get something on the top side of the tree.

Finally, just to show we all haven't turned into "The Waltons" here's a picture that shows the true spirit of the night; Ciera saying something to Rakes that caused him to break out the "Derek Lowe" face for the first, but sadly not the last time tonight.

You gotta love the holidays. Time with the family, trimming the tree, and every 5 seconds brings a fresh round of crying, whining, yelling, and random attacks with a plastic light saber.

There are still 28 days left until Christmas.

God bless us, everyone.

Happy Thanksgiving

As I sit here tonight, with enough Christmas lights spread around the inside of my house to make Clark Griswold green with envy and the melodious sound of "The X Men" movie in the background, I'm well aware I've got many reasons to be thankful.

A beautiful wife I know I don't deserve. Three happy, perfectly healthy children, even if they all are about 3 bricks shy of a load. A nice house, food in the pantry, and I've somehow avoided being committed to a mental institution.

I'm 38 years old and both my parents are still with us, I've got 4 siblings and we all somehow still get along, and I adore my nieces and nephews. I've also got some great friends that I've met over the last couple of years that I never expected to occupy such a huge place in my heart. I heard all you guys and you know who you are.

Thanksgiving is more than just getting the day off from work, eating more than the average human should consume in a week much less a day, and watching Detroit lose. Again.

Take a minute to be thankful for whoever or whatever in your life you're grateful for. You never know when you'll get the chance again.

I leave you with the graceful tones and soothing sounds of Trot, singing the "Micky Mouse Clubhouse" theme song like he's trying out for the lead singer of Megadeth.

The boy can bust a pretty good move too.

Rakes as the Thanksgiving Turkey

Leave it to my boy to be the Turkey in a play filled with Pilgrims, Indians, and the celebration of Thanksgiving.

Although he does have the dance moves down.

I asked him why he didn't sing any of the songs.

With a look I'd only seen previously on people who'd pleaded The 5th, Rakes looked at me and said the following:

"Dad. Everybody knows Turkey's can't SING. They only gobble."

How do you argue with that?

Tomorrow?

Trot sings the theme song from "Micky Mouse Clubhouse" as if he was the lead singer from Nine Inch Nails.

At least it's never boring around here.

Thanksgiving Can Be Funny.

Rakes was the Turkey in his pre-school Thanksgiving play.

Somehow, this doesn't surprise me.

Just like Christopher Reeve was meant to play Superman, Rakes was destined to be the Turkey.

And he did a fine job, I must say.

As a additional tidbit, Trot did his part to make the festivities even better by crying/having a temper tantrum while Rakes and his class performed for us today. We finally figured out he just wanted to join in about 10 minutes too late.

Just a side note to this post: Ang and I decided I needed an outlet on my day off.

Since we pretty much decided drinking myself into oblivion by noon is off the table, I guess I should warn Barnes and Noble I'll be taking over the sports section every Monday from now on.

Just Another Day At Home

I finally figured out how to upload a video to YouTube. And while I realize Ciera could have shown me how before now, I really don't care. Because that $1,000,000 Grand Prize on AFV is now within reach. One day, it'll happen; The boys will do something so mind bending that it will blow what they've previously accomplished out of the water and I'll be there to capture it all on film.

I can then retire to a life of Red Sox baseball, 24 on a continuous loop, and never have to take off my Red Sox hat again.

Until that happens, I've got what I captured today. In about a minute, we had "Cheese!" repeated at least 38 times by my last count, a demonstration on how to properly disembowel a human being, and Rakes picking his nose.

WWE wrestling comes on tomorrow night. I may get that winning video a lot quicker than I initially thought.

5 Years? It Seems Like 5 Minutes.

Tomorrow morning, my little man turns 5 years old.

I honestly can't believe it's been that long; seems like yesterday Ang and I were wondering if he was even going to make it. Umbilical cord wrapped around his neck, he came kicking and screaming into the world at a whopping 4 lbs and change. And while he's not much bigger now (26 lbs if you're counting at home and his 2 year old brother has him by about 4 lbs) he's definitely OK.

2 feet nothing and weighing less than the average Poodle, he's a human wrecking ball running a 1,000 rpms and the absolute light of my life. I never imagined I could love something so much while at the same time wanting to put them in a cage and hang them from the ceiling. All boy and proud of it, Rakes goes through life with the subtlety of Godzilla stomping through Tokyo.

He's got my eyes, my nose, my mouth, and my unruly hair. And if you think it's impossible to be so mad your ears are burning one minute to laughing until you think you're gonna pee your pants the next?

Come visit sometime.

Happy Birthday, Rakes Edward.

Your Dad loves you more than you'll know.

And I'm really glad you're here.

Now put that knife down before somebody gets hurt.

It's been that kind of year.

In just another freaky development to an already bizarre year, it snowed last night. Mind you, the last time it REALLY snowed down here was about 6 years ago and that was in February. So to wake up on November 21st and see all that white stuff on the ground was a little weird.

Naturally, Ang took the kids outside to try and take the perfect Christmas Card picture and shock of all shocks? It was an epic FAIL. These three couldn't take a picture where all three were smiling AND looking at the camera at the same time if Sponge Bob Freaking Squarepants himself was taking the picture.

Ciera looks thrilled, Trot looks like he's ready to pass a kidney stone, and Rakes is trying to figure out someway to set it all on fire. Which is par for the course so I didn't let it get to me.

Barack Obama is the next President of the United States, the Tampa Bay Rays made it to the World Series, and a 5' 5" 2nd baseman is the American League MVP. Combine that with the fact the Arizona Cardinals are in first place, gas is under $2 a gallon and Ang still hasn't realized I'm a dink and you've got a pretty good idea this is not your average year.

Snow in North Carolina before Thanksgiving?

Just another weird notch in the belt of the year 2008.

Makes you wonder what in the world is going to happen in 2009, right?

Grooming Time At The Zoo

Today was the day of the boys monthly hair cut.

Otherwise known as "Aunt Jill the Beautician takes twice the recommended amount of Xanax."

I've changed their diapers, got them dressed, and tried to make them do something as simple as finish eating their dinner before commencing with whatever is that particular nights choice of wrestling match is. (For the record, it's usually the one where Rakes hits Trot with a light saber until he cries or kicks Rakes in the gibleys. Whichever comes first.)

I've seen them both twitching like a tweaker on meth while waiting for me to open up the bag of gummi bears, practically run in place while I try and pour apple juice in a sippy cup before they commence the ultimate freak out, and watched them both stammer like they have Tourette's Syndrome as I fix lunch for them.

So I have the greatest admiration that Jill hasn't jammed the thinning shears into her eardrum or ran screaming out the door of the salon while attempting to perform the beauty shop equivilant of trying to horsecollar a rabid mongoose.

And yeah; I'm well aware Rakes looks exactly like that kid from Slingblade with his hair cut short.It's at least one place on his body I know he can't be hiding any deadly weapons.

Rakes and Trot like to Move It, Move It.

Rakes and Trot came home from church singing this at the top of their lungs tonight.

Guess which movie McDonald's is showcasing in the Happy Meals this week?

Trust me, you haven't lived until you've seen a 2 year old in a diaper attempting to dance to this song.

MLB's Hot Stove?

Take me away.

Munchkin Mojo

*Picture courtesy of Kelly and sittingstill.net*

In a league dominated by the likes of guys named Ortiz, Rodriguez, Ordonez, and Vladdy, the AL MVP award went to a 2B who makes jockeys look tall and is in desperate need of Rogaine, a wig, or a plain old razor.

We really shouldn't be surprised; all he's done since arriving in the big leagues full time in 2007 is win the following: Rookie of the Year, a World Series Title, a Silver Slugger, a Gold Glove, started in the All-Star game and is a unanimous choice as the cockiest, funniest player the game has seen in years.

You can go ahead and add an American League MVP trophy to that bookshelf, Pedie. With the vote coming down today, I think we can all shift away from that "Prototype" mold we've seen with the MVP award in the past. Guys like Dustin Pedroia just don't win awards like that.

At least they didn't used to. Welcome to a world where the Red Sox are on top and the Yankees are scrambling. A time where this country elected an African American to the highest office in the land, barely 40 years removed from using fire hoses and German Shepards on it's own citizens. A reality that includes MY wife actually marrying a guy like ME.

Freaking Pedie is the AL MVP.

Munchkins everywhere rejoiced today.

I can think of two in particular who had to share a phone call right at 2 o'clock to celebrate.

Happy Dustin Pedroia Wins The AL MVP Day, Josh!

Rakes gets a Trophy.

Tonight was Rakes' end of the season soccer dinner, where he got his trophy and more importantly, got to play video games with his Dad.

Since the league he's in doesn't keep score, about the only category he came close to winning, at least as much as I can tell, is trash talking. You haven't seen someone so short talk so big since Doug Flutie threw that Hail Mary for Boston College back in the '80's.

This particular picture has only been included for the sole purpose of showing how hot my wife is. And yes, I'm bragging.

My very own Pele' getting his trophy. He was dragging me off to play "Street Fighter" about 3.5 seconds later.

Another gratuitous shot of my wife. Yes, I realize how hot she is and No, I have no clue how I ended up with her. I just chalk it up to blind luck, she has a big heart and leave it at that.

Finally, check out Rakes' game face. Them little suckers better watch out next season; the little hellion has his game face on. I have no idea what I'll do when they actually start to keep score.

Slow News Day.

I finally got to meet Baby Hannah tonight, and she's as pretty in person as she is in a picture. Right as this picture was taken tonight I was telling her about how Josh Beckett was going to rebound and have a HUGE 2009 season and why Scott Boras is the the devil incarnate.

Since it's Sunday, baseball season is still months away, and I'm already sick of worrying about whether Tek is coming back, I figured I'd lay off the heavy stuff tonight and just post some pictures from the life of the RSD.

Rakes was positively thrilled to meet his newest cousin, although I was worried he'd bust her eardrums at one point. On the plus side, she never woke up while he and Trot re-enacted the Stone Cold Steve Austin/HHH press conference from Wrestlemania XX.

Back in the summer, Pop took some of his 14 grandchildren hiking around Lake Macintosh here in Gibsonville. Here, Rakes and his cousin Garrison bring up the rear on the trail. I gotta believe they were discussing the pro's and con's of Luke Skywalker as a Jedi Knight. Either that or why in Lord of The Rings did that dude from Rudy have pointy feet. It could really go either way.

Finally, there's always the oddball in a picture.

Ciera, Rakes, and Cousin Jared taking in the beauty of the Blue Ridge Mountains while Trot is completely oblivious and most likely wondering where his next meal is coming from.

Exactly when do pitchers and catchers report again?

Just another example that God has a sense of humor.

I work 48 hours a week, Tuesday to Saturday. I realize a lot of people work a lot longer hours than I do, but for a guy who used to be a road sales rep, 48 hours is A LOT.

After work, I go home. Every night. No going to the bar with the fellas, no weekly poker night, and no going to the batting cages to pretend I'm hitting them over the Monster at Fenway. I simply go home to be with my family.

Not because I have to. I go because there is no other place I'd rather be. I love spending time with my wife and kids, and other than Fenway Park I consider my home the closest thing to heaven on earth I've found.

With all that said, it's 9:50 pm. So far, Trot has gotten out of bed 6 times since his Mom put him to bed and the last time I had to threaten him with a beating not seen since Tek put his glove in Slappy's face in 2004. Rakes drank a glass of water right before he went to bed at 9:00 and he just got up for the 4th time to go to the bathroom. Ciera is in bed with a 100 degree fever and Ang is downstairs watching reruns of "Talk Soup" on E waiting for me to come down so we can talk about what happened today.

Meanwhile I'm at the computer, hoping I can win the stand off and she'll go to sleep before I have to come downstairs to pee or go to bed, whichever comes first.

So I ask you; is wanting to spend a few hours on the computer by myself too much to ask?

Meh. One day they'll all move away and I'll have all the time I want.

And I'll be praying for somebody to come ask me if they can go to the bathroom, have a drink of water, or will I tuck them back into bed.

My life is the definition of irony.

I HATE Hank Steinbrenner

I just got done reading on si.com where the Yankees are looking to sign CC Sabathia, AJ Burnett AND Derek Lowe for next season. It looks like Hank is picking up where George left off and throwing multi-million dollar contracts around like they were nothing more than coasters.

And while they've spent the budget of about 37 small world countries over the last 7 years with 0 titles to show for it, this renewed effort by the MFY's to buy themselves a championship has me more than a little nervous.

Hopefully it'll work out as well as giving A-Rod the gross national product has resulted recently, but you can never count the Evil Empire out. To pile on to this, Red Sox Nation is dealing with the possibilities of Mikey Lowell being on his way out and Mark Texiera coming to town. Although if you believe the talking heads, HE'S going to New York as well.

Until it all gets sorted out I'll be in the garage slamming my head repeatedly into the car door.

At least it beats the alternative.

Hubba Hubba

I have nothing creative running through my brain. We've had fights, arguments, temper tantrums, and I'm pretty sure at least one Geneva Convention rule broken today.

Tired, wore out, and just plain exhausted doesn't begin to cover it. As I wound my way around the World Wide Web tonight, I stumbled upon this trailer for the movie "Parenthood".

All these years later, it's amazing how true to life it really is.

And yes, I DID wear that exact same outfit later on in the evening.

I gotta go now.

For some reason, Ang hid the Valium.

And in case you were wondering; that WAS Trot with the bucket on his head banging against the wall.

::sigh::

I really need to read my Camera manual.

With apologies for the crappy lighting, I snapped this picture tonight during the most hectic, yet happy time of the day.

Bedtime. Sure, I've got another 30 minutes or so of "I need a glass of water", "I don't WANNA go to bed right now" and Trot getting up 4,267 times until I make like that guy from "Broadcast News" and start screaming "I'M MAD AS HELL AND I'M NOT GONNA TAKE IT ANYMORE!"

Thankfully, that usually does the trick.

I'd like to congratulate my good friend Cyn Donnelly for winning the WEEI blogger contest recently. Come next year, she'll be $5,000 richer and blogging for the website, all the while regretting the day she let all of her sociopathic Internet friends find out about it. As a side note, I expect at least one round to be bought by our newly famous friend come the next Palooza. Also, I give it 6 months tops before the muckity mucks bring her in for a phych evaluation based on all our comments to her posts. I'd like to apologize now Cyn, for any embarrassment caused by myself or any of our other friends. We're all proud of you.

Finally, I'd like to share a picture of the newest member of the Dalton family, my little brother Matt's new daughter Hannah Christine.

Welcome to the Jungle, little one. We're all glad you're here.

Parenting 101

Due to the combined factors of 10 hour work days, not enough caffeine, and this whole Trade Mike Lowell/Move Youk to third/Sign Mark Texiera situation, I may have made a fatal error in judgment tonight.

I let Rakes and Trot watch WWE Wrestling; worse? I actually tivo'd it last night and we all settled down to take it all in after I got home from work.

The first 10 minutes weren't so bad, if you could look past Trot hollering "Dey gonna fight now?" while Rakes grew more and more animated by the minute. After that? Total chaos.

Rakes throwing punches at Trot while the latter spun in the air and and landed on the formers stomach repeatedly. I had to turn it off and put Trot to bed to get some peace. My biggest worry? It's too little, too late. I can only pray somebody doesn't get superplexed off the stairs sometime tomorrow.

Finally, I'd like to take this time to welcome my newest niece, Hannah Christine Dalton to the world. Congratulations Matt and Amanda. I can't wait to meet her.

Just have Caroline tell her that the boys mean well and any injuries she'll incur over the next 15 years will be purely accidental.