Kenzi's First Birthday (belated)

Well, after a six day stretch of work (and my last extended period of time away from home for at least a month) I finally made it home.  Sadly, it was a few days after Kenzi's actual birthday, but seeing as though Hammer believes in Santa, an Elf that reports to Santa, as well as a train that has a talking boiler, a bilingual handyman that has a toolbox full of talking hand tools, and cars with talking radiators, I figure Kenzi wouldn't realize the celebration was a few days late.  I know, it may sound like I'm saying she's not smart, but I will point out that she is almost walking, and loves 747's over other toys.

Figure One: My Princess

As you can tell, my Kenzi is the cutest thing on the block.  So, no ordinary birthday party celebration would suffice.  In fact, thanks to some leftover snow around the hood, and my love for shoveling snow (I must point out I am not being sarcastic as I honestly do enjoy shoveling snow), I made it very easy to convince our awesome neighbors to come out and enjoy some pizza and cupcakes with us and our precious girl.  And, with Papa always looking for some time to hang out with his favorite granddaughter, the party was complete.

Much like I've avoided in the Christmas realm of posting all the cute stuff the kids received, I'll spare you the details.  However, I will mention that Stefani had purchased this tiny shopping cart for Kenzi and had it in the closet for a long time.  We thought Kenzi would love pushing it around and filling it with toys and dolls, but when we bought the kids a giant 747 that they can sit on and I can control with a remote, we thought Hammer would surely love it.  False.  He is scared to death of that thing.  Kenzi, on the other hand, lets me drive her into walls, make her dizzy, and all kinds of scary maneuvers that can be completed on something slightly smaller than a Power Wheels vehicle.  So, Kenzi liked her cart, but Hammer absolutely adored it.

More and more each day we see that Hammer is more like Stefani and Kenzi is more like me.  It's cute.

So, I should live up to my promise to make my blog more educational by sharing something with you that's insightful and useful.  Here it goes.

If you're a fan of Chick-Fil-A (click the link to get directions to the closest one to you), you're probably aware of their "Chick-Fil-A" sauce.  If you love it like I do, you have your wife horde some packets when she makes her pilgrimage to the best chicken sandwich joint in the valley.  And, currently, our fridge does have a few packets left.  But seeing as though I am trying to be more resourceful in the kitchen (more resourceful than being able to cook a Hot Pocket (link goes to Jim Gaffigan's Hot Pocket skit which is required viewing if you haven't seen it yet)), I thought I'd try to make the sauce and improve on it.  And, seeing as though one of my New Year's Resolutions is to be as unselfish as possible, I'll share my new recipe for the sauce.

Figure Two: The Chemistry Lab

Take some Sweet Baby Ray's (you know it's "award winning' claim is legit because the award is on the label itself), some Beaver Sweet Honey Mustard, and some plain Mayo and mix it together.  I'd guess 1.5 parts mayo, 1 part mustard and bbq sauce.  Mix it up and BAM.  Chick-Fil-A sauce with a bite.

Ok.  Educational and delicious.

So back to Kenzi.  Well, as we tried with Hammer (he just couldn't do it), we gave her one day where she was allowed to make as big as a mess as she wanted, and this is what came of it.  I must thank Stefani for the best Christmas present ever (a magnetic Gorillapod) that made this video possible.

[click the image below to watch the movie]

Almost There!

AHHHHHHH!!!!!

Okay, no reason to freak out.  Although the Wal-Mart crowd today was something else.  Were they giving away free 3-D televisions or something because I've never seen soo many people stuck in one confined area EVER.  Well, back to Freak-out 2k10.

So, being one who has the privilege of living in a different state than they work in (read: take your commute and multiply it by a suck factor of about 1.2 X 10^32), the holiday season brings a few good things.  First off, flights are full, which means somebody is making money (hopefully that someone is my employer).  Second, it means that airports turn into mad houses and great places to see people get mad.  If only I had my camera with me to show you who comes out of the woodwork during the Holidays...

But, being that people are trying to get around the country to see their families means that my futile attempts to get around the country to see my family are met with an added level of resistance (not the same resistance that stops the TSA during their new pat-downs, but similar).  The other day, that resistance was an abnormal amount of people traveling the same route I was.

One thing I have going for me is, well, nothing when it comes to using other carriers for transportation, as 'first-come, first-serve' takes precedence.  And, being a few minutes later than normal, my standard one hour prior to departure plan was not kept up.  So, inevitably, that means I got to meet a few people who also have family in the lovely state of Arizona (or, as Chuck Klosterman put it in one of his novels, the Arid Extra-Dry State (pun intended)).  Not to get into the finer points of my current employment status, but my ride home this week granted me what I call the 'scenic tour', with a nice stop in Las Vegas.

So, if there wasn't enough to freak out about, our flight from Vegas to Phoenix was, as the Captain had put it on the PA, "going to be a little bit bumpy".  Needless to say, when pilots use generic adjectives that appear to lessen the severity of what it's describing, they usually mean the opposite.  Sort of like "a little delay", "a bit of snowfall", or "a few minutes" really meaning "you're screwed", "we're screwed", and "we're screwed for a long time".  But, I got to hand it to this Captain, because, as you two pilot nerds who read this blog can attest to, turbulence prediction models and AIRMET/SIGMET reports are usually vague, hit-or-miss, and not the whole story.  Even supplemented with PIREPs, they are not definite sources of actual conditions.  Sorry, for you non-pilot nerds, but to help you cope with why you are not as awesome as your pilot nerd friends/husbands/wives/others, I've made those acronyms links to the all-knowing Wikipedia, proving that this blog is not a complete waste of time, as I try to educate you on something in each post (remember the derivation of the common phrase m.o. ?)  Also, the "turbulence prediction" link sends you to a page where computer models (not like this computer model) predict the severity of turbulence based on current and forecasted weather conditions, so check that out before your next flight.

That night, "a little bit bumpy" meant "the plane is going to shake, rattle, and roll like a 40 ton bull galloping at 400 miles and hour with 100,000 volts being sent through said bull's nether-regions continuously".  And it did.  People were freaking out.  Funny, the lady sitting next to me was pointing out all the nervous people's tendencies to do something to make them not think about the fact the plane was shaking like a...well, this video is a good example of what it probably looked like on the outside.

Let's be honest...turbulence can be fun.  Like, mega fun, unless you're trying to read, put contacts in, or if you have to go to the bathroom.  So, what's a man in uniform supposed to do to harness the fun?  There was only one thing I could think of, being fatigued and malnourished, and that was to take my hat, raise it in the air, and say "YEE-HAW!!!" really loud.  Thinking that I wasn't the only one having fun, I invited my row to join me.  The woman next to me laughed, but then tightened her seatbelt.  The man next to her said "No way, no, no no no no no no" and grabbed the seat in front of him, assuming what I call the most un-stylish crash position invented.  So, it was just me who apparently had fun riding the bull, and my futile attempts to make people laugh while their brains bounce around inside their skulls like an air hockey puck failed, my colleagues said I should have instead sang "The Battle Hymn of the Republic" real loud.  I'll make note for next time.

Now that's what I would deem a reason to freak out justly.  Not that it's two days before Christmas and you can't find your loved one(s) something special at Wal-Mart.

So, freak outs aside, we've had a great week.  Hammer has apparently grown an affinity for Thomas the Train, or any trains in general, as well as Christmas lights.  And, while we love to spoil our kids with tons of love and hugs, we took Hammer to the McCormick-Stillman Railroad Park where trains, Thomas the Train, and Christmas lights exist in pure harmony (along with about 5,000 other people and their kids who also love trains, Thomas the Train, and Christmas lights).

Grandma is in town helping out with the kids while my pre- and post-Christmas schedules are not "awesome", and we're expecting Grandpa Durtschi to come out soon.  My dad's still in town, and we're ready to see these kids open up some seriously awesome Christmas garb.  As for our preparations, we're almost there.  Seeing as though this is our kids' first Christmas, we hope we've given the Holiday the respect it deserves.  More than a hat-waving "YEE-HAW!!!" in an inappropriate time.

Figure 1. At the train station

Sundays

In an effort to make the most of the fact we have family who live within what I deem to be "forgot to pack milk for Kenzi" distance, I've unofficially started my new Sunday M.O. to include more family time.  On a side note, m.o. is short for modus operandi, which is a latin phrase that loosely translates into 'method of operating', and has become m.o., short-hand for somebody's habits.  Thank you wikipedia for educating me [citation needed].  This new family time basically means dinner at either our house, my sister's house, or my dad's house.  And today, it was at our house.

For Stefani's friends who love to talk about dinner menus and stuff, I've organized a bulleted list of what was prepared for supper.

• Some sort of pork roast covered in bacon that needed some oven appreciation time
• Mashed potatoes that only required hot water and a general stirring motion
• Broccoli covered in cheese because there's no other legal way to eat broccoli
• Corn chowder soup, because it's fun to say chowder (like in Ace Ventura when he's passing the secret code through the door after the Cannibal Corpse concert scene)
• Baked bread with asiago cheese bacon dip because bacon is required to be implemented in every fancy meal at least twice
• Lettuce garnished with dressing so we look like we pay more taxes
• Chicken nuggets because kids don't eat real food
• An ice-cream cake from Baskin Robbins because nothing can beat it in the dessert realm

Yeah, that's how we roll (once a year).  For those who have yet to enjoy some time with us at our home, our typical menu consists of something between bread (usually a butter (peanut or plain), a meat product, cheese, pickles, or any combination thereof), something with milk (like cereal or oatmeal), or some restaurant.  We're working on diversifying our meal portfolio, and have committed that to our New Year's Resolutions.

Anywho, back to the m.o.  So, we invited my sister and my dad over for a meal and some fun.  Usually, we just chit-chat around the table while the kids turn peaceful toys into weapons of mess (not mass) destruction.  But, since it's Christmastime, and we can't get in the car without Hammer asking for Christmas Lights, we decided it was time to introduce my sister and her family to the best Christmas light display in the quad-city area.

So there it is.  That is the greatest light display around.  From our best estimate, they are using approximately the same amount of power that is required to heat all of the town of Dewey, and are using somewhere near 512 electrical plugs and 1 mile of extension cords.  Regardless of their 'green' status or their concern for the power grid, we have deemed it to be worth it.  And so have many other fellow patrons of this home.  Sadly, no image or camera can capture the essence of awesomeness this home radiates, as there are more lights to both sides of the home, and one impressive collection of animatronic Christmas decorations.

But with hot chocolates in hand, the kids in their car seats, and all of us crammed into our not-going-to-get-replaced-by-a-minvan Honda Pilot, we, the mighty descendants and offspring of my father, enjoyed not only a full-course meal, but the company of others (and Kenzi reminding us we forgot her binky).

Figure 1. The Evans Consortium + The Brantner's and my Pops

Hide yo' kids

Inevitably, I'm back to working a lot during the worst time of the year to be confined to a small tube with a minimum 52 strangers and no fresh air.  Yes, the dreaded cold and flu season.  It's gross.  You don't have to be a germophobe to realize how disgusting people can be, like Hammer, who has recently discovered that picking his nose can be fun.  Or people who go to the bathroom without washing their hands.  Or even better, runny nose recipients who use their hand as a tissue.  Gross.

Well, we are all as guilty as the next guy for spreading the love, err, germs this time of year, and I've tried my part to be a little better.  Because, as I said earlier, I'm stuck in a tiny little tube for hours on end with plenty of strangers who love to litter their little nasties around.  And I'm not trying to scare you with the picture below, just illustrating what us lucky aviation enthusiasts have to deal with daily.

Figure 1. "The Nasty"

Needless to say, we live in a dirty world.  But, at the same time, a little dirt has to be good for us, right?  I think so, hence my lack of Purell-ing the crap out of my kids on a regular basis.  However, we have to realize that there has to be a limit to our exposure to what I call "The Nasty", and attempt to mitigate it from affecting our kids.  For me, that means trying to keep "The Nasty" in check and leaving it all at work.  And, with all these stories about more and more cases of hotels providing bed bugs complimentary, the fight has taken a more serious role.

You might be thinking why am I sharing this?  Well, while we've had our share of runny noses in the house, we've also had our fair share of scares.  I remember one day I was at work, headed up to somewhere in Canada for the night, when, before departing San Francisco, I received a picture message from Stefani that looked like this:

Figure 2. Sick Kenzi

Not the kind of image you want when you're supposed to leave the country for the day.  Thankfully, Kenzi was tougher than I could ever be and allowed these crazy people to poke her with a few needles to help her in her quest to conquer RSV.  And, after a few days in the hospital, and a few prayers, she was allowed to come home and enjoy being the cute girl she is.

So, this winter, I guess I'll be getting my flu shot.  And believe me, I despise needles.  Really do.  They scare me.  But if it keeps my babies from having to go to the hospital, then I'll do it.  But we can't be too cautious, since, thanks to this experience, Kenzi now has the immunities to fight off everything, including modest attempts to be potty trained.

Preparing for Christmas

Nothing says "Tis the Season" like when your wife comes and finds you setting up the Christmas tree only to inform you that you ran a pack of gum through the dryer again.

Before I get into the gummy details, I have to share a few things with you all.  First off, the Evans' do not own a Christmas tree (until now).  Take that back, even before now we had a Christmas tree.

Figure 1. Our First Christmas Tree

But as awesome as it is, we figured with the kids getting older, it's time to get a tree.  And we've talked about this before, but it was our plan to get a real live tree and plant it in our front yard where we have a vacancy.  However, our nanny is sensitive to scents, and since we absolutely love her, we went ahead and got a fake tree with all the lights built into it.  Our yard will survive, and we won't catch the house on fire, so really, it is a win-win scenario.

Going further back in time (like one of those movies where you have to stop and think 'wait, did this just happen?) I have to admit I have one addiction.  Well, I have many, but one that stops me dead in my tracks at work, at home, or anywhere, is my love for Orbit Sweetmint gum.  It's my best friend in life, and my teeth and gums are also huge fans (as well as my dentist/bassist).  Since we've had such a long relationship, I tend to throw the gum around here and there, and, as Stefani put it tonight, I've had a few dates scraping gum off of the dryer.

Figure 2. Author high on goo-gone and dryer sheets

So being my fourth date with the dryer, you think I would have it down pat.  Well, not quite 100% down, but I have a system, and, thanks to the intoxicating scent of Goo Gone not killing all my brain cells, I'll share it with you three readers of this blog.  First, take Goo Gone and spray the gum liberally.  Let it enjoy the orange scent while you take a break and not enjoy the orange scent.  Then, once it's been marinaded in the most awesome cleaning fluid, take a dryer sheet and start scrubbing.  Using a credit card as a scraper also helps, but the dryer sheet is key.  Seems as though gum and dryers are lovers and the dryer sheet removes all that static love from the two and they separate.  Once you're satisfied with the results, let that thing air dry all night after a good wipe down with a damp cloth.  Then what you should do is stay away from anything sharp, machinery that is large or complex in nature, or junk food, because you are going to feel a bit funny.  Not a good "run and wash your gum now" funny, more a "am I going to vomit?" funny.

I guess I will never learn my lesson on checking my pockets before the clothes make it to the washer.  Oh well, there's worse sins in this world, right?

A few hours later, the tree is all done!  After assembling the beast, we had to fluff out the fake needles and prepare to decorate.  Since this is our first Christmas tree, we really don't have a lot of decorations besides a few ornaments I had when I was a kid and the whole Hallmark collection of historical airplanes that my mother has been sending me since they started making them.  Also, you can't be a dork like we are without a customized ornament of the airplane you spent your life in at school (more affectionately known as 'the airplane that equates to our second mortgage').

Figure 3. Our Custom-Made Ornament of Debt

If that isn't dorky enough, I guess you could add a train to the setup, right?  Well, this train has some history behind it.  Long story short, somehow as a kid I remembered the way to a hobby store in Chicago and my dad promised me if I could find it I could get anything I wanted in there.  This is where the train comes in.  Well, at least the first few cars and a few pieces of track.  The rest became a Christmas tradition where I would leave the train running when I went to bed and Santa would come and bring me a new car.  Sometimes instead of cars, I would get track pieces, like motorized switch tracks, derailing tracks, or just a ton of track pieces.  Either way, this train has been with me for a long time.  Looking at the box, it was made in West Germany, which sounds like a cool place.

Figure 4.  More Examples of my Dork Level

While this is really our first 'Christmas' where we sort of go all out (we even got stockings to hang over the fireplace), we are soo anxious to see how the kids react to it all.  Stefani even said she wants nothing for Christmas except to see the faces of the kids when they open their presents.  And a facial gift certificate.  Really, all I want for Christmas is the same.  Minus the facial.  I've got a few days off around the 25th, so I'd love some family time, perhaps a good meal, and for the kids to not destroy my train.

Thankfully, where we live there are probably 6 trillion Christmas lights up, so Hammer will be happy.  So far, only one run to the Valley of Lights, but, now that he has my sense of direction, he knows where it is and requests we head that direction every night.  The real question is....if I bet him to find the hobby store, what will he walk out with?