So, at some point it is out of your hands

I am sitting here with about a million things running thru my head (they are each going about 60mph and running into each other, too).  I am trying to figure out what I can do to make something happen, but I am at a loss.

I want to find a job, I am tired of sitting at home.  I am tired of feeling like I am not contributing to...well...anything.  I want to feel like I am worth something.

All that said, I know I am doing every thing I can possibly do.  I can not make the phone ring simply by looking at it (trust me, I have tried).  I can not make those emails saying "thank you for your interest in blah, blah, blah company..." go away (again, I have tried).

I need to embrace one of my mantras, I can not control what others do, only what I do.  This has been particularly hard recently.  I am not sure if it is because I am feeling pressure from family (I am), internal pressure (I am) or if it is because of the holidays (??), all I know is I have lost sleep over not being able to control what others do (have my kids taught me nothing?).

I need to realize that I have done everything I can.  It is out of my hands (much like when you press send on a text).  All I can do is continue to prove to myself that I will succeed and eventually a company is going to get a helluva person.  I know that once I am given an opportunity, I will make the most of it.  Whatever somebody sitting in a cubicle decides to do, is not within my power. 

Who am I kidding?  While this is easy to type, I am sure I will toss and turn tonight trying to figure out what the next step is.

So, being sore

Man, I love what Crossfit can do to my body.  I love being sore and I love being exhausted.

Today was a work out that is definitely not my strength (tho, that's why I'm going, right?).  All upper body, bench press (I'm tough!) and pull ups.  These are the days I know that I will have to do extra work after, because I know that I will not be able to last as long as I can during most of the other work outs (I wasn't wrong).

That said, these are slowly becoming my favorite work outs.  I may not be putting in as much time, but I am feeling sore quicker.  A group of us decided to run after we finished the upper body work out, and a couple of us agree that our arms just felt like dead weight (or really heavy spaghetti...mmmmmspaghetti).  I enjoy working on my weaknesses and I enjoy overcoming them.

Why is it that I love working on my physical weaknesses, yet I do not believe I am working on my other weaknesses (we will call them life weaknesses, because...well...why not?)?  I am always open to answers, if you have any.

Maybe it is because the physical is easier to measure.  Eh, I doubt that.  I mean really, is it that hard to measure having a job, getting good grades, sleeping well, eating well, having energy...yeah I did not think so.

Maybe it is because the physical stuff is easier.  Again, I am going to have to disagree with myself (really, who wouldn't?).  Walking into the gym for the first time over 18 months ago was a lot harder than most of the stuff I am trying to accomplish outside of the gym.

No, I am pretty sure it is because I do not feel sore.  Of course, like most of my entries, there is always a hidden meaning (not the anti-Caillou rants, those are pretty straightforward).  When I leave Crossfit Latrobe, I either feel wiped out immediately or the soreness comes soon after.  It feels like I have accomplished something.  So far, I am not feeling that sense of "soreness" in a lot of other areas in my life.  Do not get me wrong, I have some really great things going for me (but despite my desire to be positive, the negative things get the most attention, like negative ads in a political race), but I want to feel sore after getting a job, getting good grades,  sleeping thru the night, etc.

I guess I will just have to keep working to get that feeling of soreness, because there is no other option I am willing to accept.

*

*as a public service announcment, don't look up sore in a google image search, if you're looking for soreness.

So, wanna get in the Holiday mood

So, the 13 things that annoy me that should not...

In honor of Friday the 13th (my daughter is born on a 13th, I should've seen half the stuff she does coming), I came up with a list of 13 things that I should 100%, absobucnlutely, not care about, but I do.

13. The Express check-out line.  If the check out line says 12 items or less, then you should have 12 ITEMS OR LESS!  Is it really that hard to count to 12?

11...er, I mean 12. Lack of traffic etiquette.  If I let you merge in front of me, give me a wave, a nod, a thumbs up, a job, basically anything saying "thanks for letting me in so I can now pump my breaks so much you will get car sick."  I mean really people, even if you are talking on your phone, acknowledge that somebody did something nice.

11 (for real).  Corporations phasing out humans.  Automated phone systems need to go away.  I get the cost factor, but I hate them all the same.  The worst ones are the ones that hitting zero does not automatically take you to a real person (I'm unemployed, somebody talk to me!!).

10.  Caillou...little bastard.

9.  One-Uppers.  If you want to try to one-up me, bring it on.  As a member of the one-upper club, I am a self loather, I admit it (I bet I admitted it before you did).

8.  Giving my kids a bath.  I do it because I do not want them to stink like my car after a week of leaving Crossfit gear on the front seat.  I hate it though.  They splash every where, Ave hates getting her hair washed, they never want to get out (even when their lips are blue from the water turning into ice) and they are so wound up after I want to slip them some Ambien (as far as you know I haven't).

7.  Non-Heinz Ketchup.  I am from Pittsburgh, if you try to pass that Hunts crap off on me, I will get fired up.  Seriously, Heinz is one of two products that no matter how broke I may be, I will always buy.  The other one is...

6.  Jiff Peanut Butter.  I tried some cheaper brand, but like those choosey moms, I prefer Jiff.  Peter Pan and Skippy can bite my Jiff-eating arse.  As an aside, if you have a hyper active dog, when you are at the end of the jar, just give it to the pup and they will be busy for a long time.

5.  Double Unders.  This is where you try to get a jump rope around twice per jump, as opposed to once.  I whip myself in the shins, the toes, the arms, the head, basically if I have the body part, it has been treated to a welt.  I did 30+ in a row once...once, after over 18 months of trying.  I can usually get 7-8 now, but they are the worst thing Crossfit makes me do.  Also, how do I make my shoulders sore by jumping rope, I am a moron.

4.  Not being super early for something.  Please do not misunderstand this, I do not mind being late, if I am with somebody.  For some reason, if it is just me, I have this overwhelming feeling that I need to be early.  I get to Crossfit Latrobe at least 30 minutes early every day.  I do not know why, actually I do, I am insane.

3.  Not being asked how I am doing/told hello by a cashier.  Yep, this one annoys me.  Maybe it is from working retail in high school and college (thank you for calling Champs Sports, home of the buy 78 coats get one free offer, how may I help you today?) or maybe it is from some weird Freudian-type abandonment issues, but I wait for that greeting from them, and if I do not get it, I chalk them up as the scum of the Earth.

2.  Overly insane sports fans (coughsomesteelerfanscough).  You are not a coach, you will never be a coach and for the love of all that is holy, just because you played JV elementary ball you are not an expert.  I listen to sports talk radio on occasion, I was unaware of how many coaches the Pittsburgh-area sports teams had.

1. Hearing about somebody's new hobby.  Speaking of hobbies, have you heard of Crossfit? It is the greatest thing ever, it keeps me sane, it has helped me lose around 75 pounds, it has improved my life, it has introduced me to amazing people, it pushes me, it centers me, it makes me happy, it makes me sweat, but does everybody need to hear about that...yes, yes you do.  Deal with it and do not let the little things annoy you.

So, what can I do?

I once had a friend tell me I was "so lucky".  I have already covered why I am lucky here, but I asked him why and his response was "you're single, man.  You can do whatever and whoever you want."  Of course he was a little inebriated at the time, so I let it go, but it does beg the question, what can I do?

First let me address the "do whoever you want" piece, no I can not, nor would I want to.  I do not think I need to go any further on that one.

Now, let me address the "whatever I want" part of his comment.  I am obviously bound by the laws of society, so robbing a bank, streaking a neighborhood (have you seen what cold does to a man's *ahem*, no thank you), or grabbing that Caddy off the lot without paying for it are out of the question.

Then there is the moral/ethical rules in which we live (well some of us anyway).  I can not really wear a pink bikini and expect that not to bite me in my arse.  I can not lie on a resume (somebody hire me, please), I would probably forget I put it on there.  I can not call somebody's baby ugly (and have you seen some of the new models, what's up with that?), because that is just messed up.

Of course there is also the physical limitations involved in what I can and can not do.  For example, I can not dunk a basketball, I have tried many times (even Crossfit can't fix that limitation).  I can not sprout wings and soar above the clouds (again, damn you Crossfit!).  Making PBS stop running Caillou cartoons, out of my physical realm of possibilities.   I do not have the physical ability to drink 64 beers on a cross-country flight.

As much as I like to think I am the smartest man in the room (well, right now I am, since I am alone), I know I am usually not.  So, solving any complex equation by the famous mathematician Detarkian (that's not a real person, I just made that up, did you think it was?), is out of the question.  Understanding how the lymphatic system works is completely out of the question as well.  Hell, there are times every day hour that I forget why I walked into a room.

I have not hit that Powerball jackpot (I'm beginning to get impatient), so I am also limited to what I can do financially.  Again, that Caddy is not coming home with me, nor is the 2000 Ford Probe sitting on the side of the road with a for sale sign on it.  Oh, and any type of traveling will have to be done in a YMCA basketball league.  All the repairs/upgrades to my house, going to have to wait (sorry1970s interior doors, you have to stay).

So, what can I do?

I guess I can only do what I can do.

So, anxiety

Anybody that has suffered (yes suffered) with anxiety knows it can be the worst thing at that specific time.  I am not talking about being nervous at a job interview, or meeting a girl/boyfriend's parents, I am talking about crippling anxiety.

The anxiety I get will keep me awake for days at a time.  It will wake me up in a flash.  I will bounce between wanting to cry, to throw up, to throw something, to total exhaustion.  When I go into panic attack mode, I have symptoms that seem like a heart attack.  I get pains down my arms, chest pains, cold sweats, shortness of breath and a heart rate so high it feels like it could explode. 

I do not want anybody to touch me or talk to me, but I want somebody near me.  Just somebody being close to me is comforting, knowing that they are available is so important to me when I am battling my own mind.

I know that there are a lot of stresses that add to my anxiety (right now the list is way too long), but it typically manifests itself as a belief I have cancer (gee, I wonder where that comes from?).

Anxiety, for me at least, can make me fidgety and hyper while not allowing me to get stuff done.  It is like my ability to accomplish anything and rest are completely at odds.  I can be in the middle of something and the ability to focus is non-existent because I can not get my mind off something damaging. 

I do all that I can to curb my anxiety, and I am doing a nice job of it, but every once in a while it creeps up.  I work out like a madman (I love Crossfit), I pick up as many hobbies as possible (cooking, reading, cleaning, writing, etc.) just so I can try to keep my mind busy.  I have gone to my therapist to hash things out.  I surround myself with positive and amazing people on a daily basis, because I believe being around positive makes you positive.

Basically this entry is to say to people with anxiety, I get it.  It sucks and no amount of words can fix it.  It is also to say to those that are dealing with somebody that suffers with anxiety, it is not an easy thing to battle your own mind on a daily basis.  Just be there for them, and ask them what how you can be there.  Do not try to do too much and do not blow their concerns off.  Be patient.

So, my mom

Yes, shockingly enough, my mother is still alive.  She has not gone the way of most of my family members.  Although some day she will, and that will be the hardest day of my life.

My mother and I butt heads.  She can be passive aggressive, I can be stubborn and short with her.  She cooks with as much butter as a cow can produce, I like to cook "clean".  She can be over-the-top dramatic, I despise drama.  She hates swear words, I swear all the time (shit...see).  Hey we are like the odd couple...wait, is that wrong in some warped kinda way?

I love my mother, but she drives me crazy (it really isn't a long a trip, right down the PA turnpike).  When she asks the same question over and over in a slightly different way, it makes my head want to explode.  When she assumes things should be a certain way because "that is how it should be", I want to move to Denver (pretty sneaky, sis).  When she gossips to me, I want to turn the volume up on the TV.

However, I love her and she drives me crazy for the same reason, I see a lot of myself in her.  So when I see faults in her, I am probably seeing my own faults.  She tends to dwell on things, so do I.  She can be overprotective, so am I (my son will never play football, and I'm sure he will complain like I did).  She tends to stay in situations because she is afraid of the unknown, and I wish I could say I did not do the same thing, but I do.   She tends to make things about her...um...crap.

The good thing is I also I see the unbelievable in her, and I can only hope I have picked up some of those traits.

She is an avid reader.  She can not find Facebook on her computer (and no, she still has not found this blog), but she has a Nook and she downloads books probably as soon as they are printed (or is it non-printed?).  While our tastes in books are different, I know that my love of the written word comes mainly from her.  She always had a book in her hand when I was growing up.

I can remember when I got into reading, I would mention what I was reading, for example The Valachi Papers, and she would say she read it.  She never ceased to amaze me on how well-read she was, and still is (please mom, start reading Game of Thrones).

Do not mess with her kids, in any way, shape or form.  I am 35 years old and she still wants to make phone calls on my behalf, if she feels I have been wronged (so if you get one from my mom, I'm sorry).  She believes in protecting her flock and she also believes that a hug can be as powerful as a smack to the ass (my mom would say bum) when you have done wrong.

While I tend to try to do the opposite of my father when it comes to parenting, I find that a lot of times the right way coincides with what my mom did.

She is a tough West Mifflin chick from a Heinz 57 family (we are mutts), and she grew up in Pittsburgh when Steel was not just part of the football team name, it was a way of life.  Neither of us had affectionate fathers growing up, we both lost those fathers early on, we both went thru financial problems, we both had to deal with my sister as a teenager, we both went thru my divorce, and yet we have both picked ourselves up off the ground, dusted ourselves off and said "is that all you got?"  Although she still will not join Crossfit.

While she may like her house to be a blistering 76 degrees, and I like mine in the 68 degree range, I am very lucky I have her to tell me to turn up the heat...over and over and over and...OH MY GOSH MOM, I GET IT!

So, what I really want to say to my kids

As a parent you need to have a filter in what you say to your kids.  Since I tend to swear on occasion all the time, this has been one of the hardest things for me to adapt.  The good news is neither of my kids know I write a blog, so I can say whatever I want here.

"Daddy, can I have a juice box."
-You want a juice box at 8 o'clock at night, hell no!  I am not going to be up until midnight because you want to put as much sugar into your blood stream as humanly possible...hell no! 

"Daddy, I'm full."
-You are full of crap is what you are full of.  You just want what your brother has, and I offered that to you and you said no, so deal with your choices.

"Daddy, I want that."
-It is good to want things, now get a job and pay for it yourself.

"Daddy, Avery hit me."
-Are you kidding me, Luke?  You outweigh her by 20 pounds and have at least 6" on her.  Beat her ass and she will not hit you again. 

"Waaaaaaaaah....sniffle.....waaaaaaaah..."
-HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

"Daddy, I don't want (insert any food I make for Luke)"
-Sucks to be you, kiddo.

"Daddy, I can't wait for Santa to come."
-You know what, there is no Santa.  I am Santa, your mother is Santa, your grandmother is Santa.  We pay for your toys, so when you thank some made up fat man, you might as well thank Homer freakin' Simpson, he is as real as Santa.

"Daddy, do you love me?"
-Most of the time, but sometimes...

"Daddy, I don't feel well."
-Seriously, you never feel well.  We are not going to the pediatrician's office again.  Take an ibuprofen, drink some tea and suck it up.

"Daddy, I don't want to go to school/the sitter's house."
-Too. Damn. Bad.  Daddy wants some time as far from you as possible.

"Daddy, do you like the picture I drew" (This one is for Mikey)
-No, Avery, I do not like the picture you drew.  You say it is a picture of me, well it is a crappy picture of me.  If I really looked like two squiggly lines and a lopsided circle/triangle/square thing, I would shoot myself...a lot.

"Daddy, you're the best daddy ever."
-No shit.

So, December 7th...

I think December 7th is taken for granted by my generation, which means every generation after mine is likely to take it for granted as well, which is a shame.

This day, which will live in infamy, always makes me think of my Pap-Pap who fought in World War II.  He was not in Pearl Harbor, but he fought in the European theater as a member of the US Army (Go Army, Beat Navy).

Most of us either have a parent, grandparent, uncle, sibling, etc. that fought in the war.  I am sure we have all heard a lot of great stories, read amazing books or watched movies that move us.  I want to share some of the stories that Sgt. William Carl Halvorsen shared with me.

-He was always very proud of the fact that he drove jeep for General Patton.  My grandfather was impressed that General Patton, while backseat driving, seemed to know exactly where landmines were located.

-My grandfather was an odd bird (I know where I get it).  He was separated from his platoon near the Luxemburg border.  Instead of hustling back to find his platoon, he met a Luxemburg family (would they be Luxemburgers?).  He stayed with them for a while (the time he spent with them gets fuzzy in my head), mainly because the food was good.  So yes, my grandfather went AWOL over food (I know where I got that too, thanks Pap-Pap).

-He never rose above sergeant because he had a little bit of an issue with authority (I know where my daughter gets that).  One time while his Commanding Officer was chewing him out my grandfather was told to dig a 6' by 6' by 6' hole.  Instead of accepting his punishment, he threw the shovel at his CO's feet and told him "if I'm going to be shot, I'm going to be shot with a rifle in my hands".

-He received the purple heart, the bronze star and numerous marksman medals.  My uncle was kind enough to give them to me last year, along with his uniforms, his knife, several hand guns, diaries from the war (he wrote a lot, I know where I got that, sincere thanks Pap-Pap), pictures and other items. 

-My favorite grandfather war time story was not actually from World War II, instead it came after September 11, 2001.  I was sitting with my Pap-Pap and I asked him what he thought the country should do.  Keep in mind he would die not even four months later (one guess what got him), but he was so sure this war would not be like any other war.  That it would drag on and on and on...he was a smart man.

I asked him if he wanted me to fight.  He looked me dead in the eyes and said "I fought so my kids wouldn't have to.  So no, I don't want you to fight."

He was good guy, but a better Pap-Pap.

 My father and Pap-Pap at their service station in McKeesport, Pa

So, about getting engaged or married

I was at the Crossfit box the other day talking with a friend who recently got engaged.  I asked him if anything had changed since the engagement, he said no.  Then I thought, what a stupid question to ask (that journalism degree is really paying off).  This of course led me to think about when I got engaged and then married, people asked me that same question a lot. 

First, lets face it, odds are there is that blissful immediate honeymoon period, even after you get engaged, but things are not going to stay that blissful just because you said yes or I do.  So I think the best you can realistically expect is for things to stay the same, the only other option is for things to get worse...yikes.

So do you really want things to change?  If you do, then you probably should not be getting engaged or married.  If there is a major sticking point with your partner before you take the plunge (sometimes into a bucket of what the...), then most likely they are not going to change.  If you think they will, can I interest you in some property that I do not currently own?

Everybody has flaws (even me?!? Yes, especially me).  I am not saying you need to love their flaws, they are flaws after all, but you had better be able to live with them.  Of course I am not talking about somebody being a danger to you, a liar, a spy for the former Soviet Union, etc., I am talking about the little stuff (which can add up).  If the way they eat annoys you to the point you want to jump across the table and stab them in the neck, you might want to reconsider them (I am assuming you will be eating on a daily basis, I know I do).  If the fact that they leave dirty clothes on the floor, or do not make the bed, or have night toots, or need to be reminded (read as prodded) to do the dishes sends you into a rage, then you are probably settling. That is not fair to either party involved, unless it is a Green Card marriage, and I am not here to judge.

You are going to live with this person for a long time (hopefully), so if the little stuff is going get to you...well...it will make a for looooong relationship, regardless of the time.  God help you, if you have kids and you can not have a civil relationship.  Kids are a little bit more of a commitment than a marriage (I know that may come as a surprise).

I know I am not the perfect person.  I also know that I was not, and will not be, the perfect husband (I feel the need to go on record to say I will be the best husband I can be).  On the other hand, I also know that my future wife (c'mon lucky number two), will not be a perfect person or the perfect wife.  Perfection does not exist (like Sasquatch or Mila Kunis, she's just too pretty to be that funny).  If you can accept that, at least in my moronic opinion, you have a good chance.

Dang...this post was perfect.

So, my body is getting older, but...

I am convinced my inner teenager is trying to burst free from my Crossfitting, run-down, exhausted, 35 year old body. 

First let me tell you that I am sore today.  Keep in mind, I like feeling sore after a Crossfit work out.  It makes me feel like I have accomplished something.  Today I did power cleans and squats (that's just a fancy, meat head way of saying I lifted weights), did some running, sit ups and pull ups...and I am feeling every bit of every exercise.  My body knows it is 35, but my head, not so much.

I have been noticing that I am starting to become a 16 year old in some of my tastes in music, in my tastes in books and in what I do.  I can not believe I am writing this, but I find myself listening to the local teeny bopper station, 96.1 KISS fm.  Every city in the country has a KISS station, you know the one that most 35 year olds bypass because Ryan Seacrest  annoys the crap out of them, yep, I am listening to that one more and more (I feel like I am cheating on Dave Matthews).

I find that I actually know some of the songs by heart, which is not good for my kids, as they do not care for my singing.  They do, however, love when I dance with them (no I will not dance for you...ok, maybe I will).

My taste somehow went from classic rock and alternative rock to crap rock and *shudder* Katy Perry.  I apologize to all 35 year olds out there, I am truly sorry.

Unfortunately, my inner teenager has not stopped at music, he has decided that my taste in "literature", I use quotes because I can not really consider what I am reading to be real literature, should become decidedly YA, or young adult.

It is not like I was reading the classics before, tho I did love Sherlock Holmes, but I was reading a lot of non-fiction.  Then I started to delve into some fiction that was more adult in nature (no, not romance novels...yet) like The Millennium Trilogy and A Song of Fire and Ice.  From there I went were no 35 year old should go...The Hunger Games.  The sad thing is I loved it.  I could write a 25,000 word review on why the first two books were so good and the third was terrible.  After the Hunger games it was on to Prince of Thorns and now I am devouring Divergent (sorry Billy Shakespeare).  I am happy that I have started some YA stuff and had to just close it forever...coughAshfallisterriblecough.

Now we get into my inner teenager's desire to be out in public...ugh, I hate him (can I call him Charlie, that seems like a teenager kinda name).  I go to Crossfit Latrobe just about every day, I take 1 or 2 days off a week.  I have no reason to wear the high socks (yep, I'm one of those guys), but I do.  I have no reason doing cartwheels and round offs and back flips, but I am, because I am a moron. 

If my children saw me attempting to do some of the exercises, like a pull up, they would disown me and beg me to never go out in public.  They are going to love when I pick them up from the mall in my sweaty, high-sock gym clothes (so excited for that!).

I am writing a blog...I do not think I need to expound on that.

I am going out more than I did in my twenties, so clearly my inner teenager felt I was too much of a homebody.  I have very little problem staying out late and getting up early (my stupid inner alarm clock gets me up at 6:30, every...freaking...day).  I have been able to recover from my beverages of choice in a fairly decent way (I think it is because my liver was rested for so long).

So while I applaud my inner teenager for the energy, passion and enthusiasm, I may have to ground you (I hope you sneak out).

A face only a mother can love...

So, that second child

Ok, I was terrified when my ex was pregnant with my son.  I mean I was so scared that even as she was going thru labor, I thought we had made a mistake.  I was hoping that if we kept the receipt, we could return him when we realized it was not working out (I would have even accepted store credit, they sell beer at hospitals, right?).

Of course as soon as he was born, immediately after seeing his little slug-like, naked body, I was in love with him.  There was no taking him back for store credit or regifting him to my sister.

With my first child, the first night home was one of the longest nights of my life.  We had the little guy in our room and he would coo and twitch.  Every sound he made, we overreacted.  We were those helicopter parents hovering around him.  Then, when he was finally quiet, we got even more helicopter-like, why is he being quiet...what is wrong with him...did we break him already?

Eventually we got to the point where we could sleep at night (as long as he would allow us), but other things crept up.  There are few things more frustrating than knowing your child is sick and them not being able to express what is wrong (wow, do I miss the days where they couldn't move or talk).  As a new parent, it was terrifying for me to think my son was sick and I could not figure out what was wrong and help him.

Then as he became more mobile, more worries came about.  He would eat the dog food (apparently this runs in my family, since my sister liked to do this...a lot longer than she will admit to).  So of course the panic of "will this dog food hurt my son" cropped up.  I figured he would not die (fingers crossed), but what if it curbed his ability to become a world-class athlete (for the record, my genes already took care of that).

Then he started to play in the toilet and garbage cans (he threw my first wedding ring away, I am convinced of this).  His hands were washed so much I am surprised they are not transparent.

Oh no, he fell down on his tushy...we better sprint to him and check webmd.com to make sure he did not break anything.

Fast forward a few years to when my daughter was born.  Everything was different, starting with her birth.  My ex was in labor for over 28 hours with my son, with my daughter it was 20 minutes (no joke, she literally shot out into the doctor's arms).

There was no issue putting her into her room the first night she was home.  Oh, she made a cooing noise, eh big deal.  Oh she has been quiet for 14 straight hours, eh big deal.  I can remember my son crying and hearing it on the monitor, with my daughter, we just rolled over and turned it down.  We knew the difference between a real cry and a I-am-trying-to-annoy-my-parents cry.

Oh my daughter just licked my dog's ear, oh well, I am sure Colby has recently showered.  Oh she is picking up rabbit poop from the yard (this really happened), no big deal, I can just wipe your hands off with my shirt and you are good to go.

She is not feeling well, it is probably an ear infection (trust me parents, it is ALWAYS an ear infection).  We will just call the pediatrician and ask for a prescription for amoxicillin (get used to that word future parents).

Look my daughter is going jump off the steps on to a ceramic-tiled floor...oh crap MY DAUGHTER IS GOING TO JUMP OFF THE STEPS ON TO A CERAMIC-TILED FLOOR!   Yeah, that one I cared about, but most of the time she falls, gets a scrape, runs into a wall (more times than I would like to admit) I just look at her and tell her "you're more scared than hurt, punkinhead".

My son has paved the way for my daughter.  I completely understand why I got away with nothing growing up and my sister got away with everything...they clearly loved me more!

So, practice...I'm writing about practice

I am sure we have all heard that practice makes perfect or that it takes 10,000 hours of practice to become an expert or some variation of practice is a good thing.  I think there is some merit in that, ok, a lot of merit.

Think about the things we do on a daily basis that we have become experts in, did you think about it, good this entry is done, I am kidding obviously.  Even if you think about some of the most basic activities, brushing our teeth, taking a shower, running the vacuum, etc., we get better the more we do it.  We simply figure out more efficient ways to get things done.

Even more complex things become easier, or we at least become quicker at handling them.  When you try a new recipe it may not turn out the way you want, or maybe it takes about 30 minutes more prep (or it should have taken you 10 minutes less to cook, if you're me...I burn stuff) the first time you try it, but you get better the more you make it.

Heck I remember the first couple of times I made Kraft Mac and Cheese for my son.  I measured the butter and milk to perfection.  Now, I know how much should be in there and I just plop and pour it in (don't tell the Crossfit people, but I steal a bite or two).

I push myself to write everyday, even when I am not in the mood (can you guess the entries that I force myself to write?).  I do it because if you want to become better, you need to work everyday to become better.

At Crossfit, I push myself to do extra work after the daily workout so I can improve my weaknesses (stupid upper body and really stupid belly).  I do it because I know the more practice I put in, the better the results (and handstands are fun).

So with all that said, why is it that I (and probably a lot of us) are not experts at dealing with setbacks and adversity (I seriously just typed diversity and had to correct it...wow)?  I had a rough couple of days that started to spread into a weekend and has threatened to spread into a week.  Why am I not able to stop it?

I, like everybody else, have dealt with bad days or setbacks (heck my son had a broken collar bone before he was born and a fractured skull at four months old) in my past.  I know I have enough practice dealing with getting knocked down to know I will get back up, but why is so hard to envision sometimes?

I think, for me at least, it can be because I have practiced focusing on the negative.  I have not done it on purpose (usually), but that is just how some of the chips have fallen in last few years (or decade).  I know that I will come out of my funk.  I know that if I put in the work, I will see results (even if they aren't the best).  I know that I am surrounded by amazing people.

I need to practice being positive (and distracting myself) as often as possible.  I need to fake it until I make it.  Once I make it, I need to remember how I did it and practice that so it gets easier and better.

Breaking the practice of sliding down that slippery slope of negativity is going to take, yep you guessed it, practice.  The really good news is the world is going to give me plenty of opportunities to hone my craft.

So, if I hit Powerball

I buy Powerball tickets on occasion (if occasion means 3 or 4 times a month).  I do not know if I buy them because I think I will win, or if I just like the daydreaming that accompanies buying them.  I do know I buy them whether the jackpot is high or "low".  My favorite is when you ask somebody to go in on tickets and they say they only play when it is really high (because $20 million isn't worth their time).

I am sure everybody has thought what they would do with the jackpot (which currently stands at $81 million).  I know what I would do with it, and I am going to work off the $81 million dollar amount, actually the $45.5 cash value.

First I would take care of my family and friends (I had to say that otherwise they wouldn't take care of me if they hit).  I would have to tier my family and friends, because lets face it, family and friends are not created equal.  I am literally writing down the list as I type this, and no, I will not divulge where you may or may not fall (I'm feeding this list to Ave after I'm done, she eats anything).  Some guidelines, if you are married, you do not get to double dip, sorry I do not make the rules (umm...wait).

I figure there are 28 people I would want to (some have to) give some money.  Of those I figured 8 were in Tier 1 (finally all my family members dying off early helps me!) and the remaining 20 were in Tier 2.  So now I have to find out how much to give these guys...hmmm...how much does a cup of coffee cost nowadays?  I am kidding, I would have no problem giving up $15 million, or a third of my winnings.

The first tier members get a million dollars, so there goes $8 million, leaving $7 million for the remaining 20, it comes out to $350k each, wow, that worked out well.

I guess I should give some to charity.  I could choose to spread it around, but I will not, I am a millionaire, I can be eccentric.  I would definitely donate to the American Cancer Society, if you have read my previous entries, you know why.

So now that I have the nice crap stuff out of the way, it is time to have some fun.  It is time to have some serious selfish squandering.

As soon as I know I have won, I cash the ticket and drive straight to the airport, no packed bags, just a wad of cash and a plan to hit Hawaii as soon (and hard) as possible.  I have always wanted to see Hawaii and I would do it up right.  I am buying everything that I need new, and here is the kicker, when I leave, I am leaving it all there, because after Hawaii, I am heading to Sweden.

I have Swedish blood running thru my veins and I have a very unhealthy obsession with that fact (I'm a moron).  I have heard the country is beautiful, but the food is terrible (I'm a millionaire, I'll fly in whatever I want).  Again, I am buying everything new, and just leaving it for the maids as I head to Australia (this is beginning to sound like a Price is Right final showcase...$1 Bob, never Drew).

Australia would be my final stop on my unpacked trip, but do not worry mates, I am leaving my stuff behind for you, too.  I head home and start to buy some stuff I will keep around.

I immediately buy a home in my hometown, and since I am trying to be as realistic as possible, I go with this one for a cool $1.2 million (the lake alone makes it great for me).  I put in a complete Viking outdoor kitchen (there's that damn Swedish obsession again).

Of course I need a brand new ride (tho I will keep the 2009 G6).  I am thinking of two distinctly different cars.  The first car is the 2014 Cadillac XTS, it is beautiful at $72k.  I am from a General Motors family and I do love my Caddy's.  The second is in honor of my father, a Ford guy.  So I go with this, a 1967 Ford Mustang Shelby GT500 for $650k.  I guess I have to relearn how to drive stick.

So now that I have my new home, my new cars, I need something to occupy my time.  I am thinking a really nice restaurant/bar.  I have to hold court somewhere, right?  My favorite types of food are seafood and Italian, but since I am still watching what I eat (hey, I can't go backwards after all the hard work I've put in) I go surf and turf.  I am thinking I call it Black Pines (I have no idea why, it kinda just popped into my head).  I tell people when they are walking into an uncomfortable situation to "walk in like they own the place", but do not try that crap in Black Pines, because I own it (Boom!).

Clearly I am a Crossfit nut (warning...warning...Crossfit dream gushing is coming), so I would have to talk to my instructor about letting me in on his ownership as I build a state-of-art box (that's what the Crossfit gyms are called, I didn't make it up).  If I am not chilling beside my lake, cooking at the Viking kitchen (Thor!), holding court at the Black Pines, there is a good chance I am at the newly built Crossfit Box (conveniently located across the street from my new house).

Oh, and since I like to cook, I will not need a personal chef, but I will need a personal shopper to buy the best of the best, of course.  Speaking of cooking, I am all over taking some classes to know how to get better at cooking. In fact...

I am all over becoming a professional student.  I really enjoy learning, and lets face it, if I fail, I will buy the professor off (it worked for Rodney Dangerfield).  I would learn to cook, improve my writing skills, study therapy, history and anything else that caught my attention.

I would be remiss if I did not mention the private boxes I would own at Heinz Field, PNC Park, Consol Energy Center and The Petersen Events Center.  I do love my Pittsburgh sports.

Oh and in case you are wondering where my kids fit in all of this, they will have to earn their money, just...like...I...dang.

So, this video

I really enjoy this Mumford and Sons video.  To me it is about overcoming adversity and finally seeing what is on the other side (although I didn't write it so...)

If the video does not display, try this link http://youtu.be/nMJUbZrNnA8