The Big DumpTruck

Throwing Little Thought Pebbles at Your Windshield Since 1996

Tag: kids

10 Years Ago in BigDumpTruck History

You know, I was all excited about dipping in to the archives to pull out some quotes from 10 years ago, but 10 years ago the Dump was sort of in transition and half the content was hand-edited and some but not all was on blogger, and the end result is that a lot of my content was lost when I moved from my ISP and they deleted a bunch of my files on me before I could copy them. Which is the long, round-about way of saying “Happy 10th Birthday” to Junior, who made his first appearance on “Mookie’s Driver Training Page” way back in the day. (Those pages are, sadly, part of history.)

If any of you are obsessed fans who laboriously saved every word I wrote to your hard drive, I’d be more than happy to have a copy of the archives. You know, as long as it wouldn’t involve me having to have personal contact with anyone who would have laboriously saved every word I wrote to their hard drive.

Junior and Step-Junior went for a morning of skiing with Mr. Dump, who will just be watching. I am as sick as a dog today, and am hoping to feel good enough to continue the birthday celebrations after they get home near lunchtime. Wish me luck!

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Past the Halfway Point

Last night I passed the 25k mark. Now I only have to hit 50k before the clock strikes midnight and November turns into December. I think maybe I can do it. I had a really good rush of pointless prose last night, so that’s nice.

Mike Lowell is staying in Boston, so you’ll have to excuse me if I’m giddy for a few. He’s my favorite player (Papi has a special place in my heart forever, but Mike Lowell is my boyfriend). In fact, that’s how I refer to him. It’s always “My boyfriend Mike Lowell.” I saw a photo of my boyfriend Mike Lowell down at Disney the other day. I was pretty sad that he didn’t do that the day after they won the World Series, but I would never question my boyfriend Mike Lowell’s decisions.

Let’s see, what else is going on? Oh, I was going to ask if anyone here owned one of those digital photo frames, and if you do, do you like it and would you recommend it? I am trying to write a Christmas list for Santa, you see, and I want one of those but I don’t want Santa to spend a lot of money on it. It’s not like I can’t just pull photos up on my computer if I really need to see them. I just like the idea of having a photo frame on my desk so that I can just swap out the pictures with the weather.

Speaking of which, we’re on snow alert. We may get [breathlessly] a snowflake or two. Junior is doing the happy 4th Grade dance. I tried to explain that the snow isn’t going to stick, and that we don’t have to track down his boots just yet. But damn, I had better track down his boots. I wonder if they still fit? Doubt it.

(Christine and Nicholle, you pay attention, okay? Nothing you buy will ever fit a whole year later, and you can’t buy stuff on sale at the end of the season because you don’t know what size they will be when it’s time to wear it. This is the most ANNOYING thing about kids. They just outgrow stuff constantly. Sometimes, within days of you buying it, I kid you not. Always make sure you have at least ONE pair of shorts or one sweater that’s a size larger than your kid currently wears because it’s a sad day when you wake up and it’s 90 degrees and they suddenly don’t have any shorts to wear to camp. Ahem.)

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First Person Narrative

Junior has to write an essay over the weekend. His first big-boy homework! The subject is “My First ____”. They had to brainstorm ideas for a topic, then they had to fill in a sheet that basically was a way of drafting the essay. He was actually pretty far along with it already, so I have no doubt this one is in the bag.

His essay is “My First Red Sox Game” which happened to occur a month or so ago. That’s right, my son, the nine year old, had never been to a game, mostly because it’s impossible to get tickets. These were the crappy seats you get for free (one game) when you join Red Sox Nation.

Anyhoo, he and I got to talking about First Person Narratives that you just don’t want to read. He and I started a list, and I will continue it for you.

My First Diaper Rash
The First Time I Ate Peas
My First Poo
The First Time I Watched Blue’s Clues
My First Big Boy Underwear

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Causing a Fumble

It’s Sunday in New England, so you either go to a fair, go apple picking, or go to a football game. We chose the last option (although we passed about a billion people at Bolton Orchards. There were so many people there (I assume because they had the hot donuts sign out front – the Lions Club makes ’em right in front of you. Mmmm) that it didn’t even occur to us to stop. Even though I love little lard balls.

My nephew is number 92. He’s amazing, even if they didn’t put him in enough for anyone’s tastes. Let me put it this way…they put him in for a total of 6 plays. Two of those plays, his name got announced because he made the tackle. What does that tell you about his mad football skillz? In this blurry shot (hey, a 200mm lens all the way out trying to follow the action? I’m only human) he takes down number 11 and causes him to fumble. Woo!


causing a fumble, originally uploaded by Big DumpTruck.

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Over the Top Reaction of the Day

You know, I try to keep things light here. I’m not in this to get a reputation as a bully or a bulldog or a bull-ony. But I read an article in the Sentinel today that absolutely made me furious. Enough so that I feel I should send a letter to the paper in response. But maybe I’ll just vent here to keep myself in limited amounts of trouble.

So for background, go and read the story in the Sentinel and Enterprise. I’ll wait.

Okay, so a local mom blew her top over a flier sent home to parents about a wine tasting to benefit the Leominster Education Foundation. A foundation, by the way, trying to raise money to put computers, software and other tools into the schools, outside of the regular school budget.

I’d heard about the wine tasting at the PTO meeting, and I thought it was great that they’d been able to put something like this together. I also got the flier in Junior’s backpack this week.

Here’s where my head exploded:

“The schools are basically saying, ‘Hey, there’s a wine tasting, give this to mommy and daddy so we can get drunk with them,'” Tarbell said Thursday afternoon.
Tarbell said the flier sends kids the message that drinking is acceptable.

You know, Ms. Tarbell, if you interpret a wine tasting as an invitation to get drunk, that would be YOUR PROBLEM and maybe you should look into getting some professional help. Wine Tasting does not equal kegger. Wine Tasting is not a tailgate party. Wine tasting is not taking a bottle of Boone’s Farm behind the neighbor’s barn when you were 12.

And guess what, Ms. Tarbell? Drinking IS acceptable. To pretty much everyone except Jehovah’s Witnesses, Mormons, Lindsey Lohan or anyone not legally of age to do so. I spent 3 weeks with a family in France and even the youngest kids had some watered down wine with their meals. Because it’s not the big freaking deal it is over here. So when they turn 18 or 21 they don’t immediately become useless wastoids intent on killing every last brain cell on 100 proof rum. Because they don’t see things like wine tastings as Nosferatu’s Welcome Wagon.

Your poor kids are going to have a really warped sense of alcohol’s place in our lives, and I would fear that they are going to see it as the apple tree in the garden of Eden. “Oooh, it’s forbidden and it makes mom crazy! It must be AWESOME!”

And if you don’t like my response, too bad. Maybe you shouldn’t have taken your misbegotten crusade to the newspaper. I got the flier, and there is NOTHING ABOUT IT that implies a)it’s for kids and b) that it’s anything but a very classy, exclusive opportunity for adults to gather and try small samples of wine and food. Not one thing about the flier would have been appealing to an 11 year old. My 9 year old didn’t even look at it. YOU, my dear, are the one making your children think this is a BFD.

Well, hey, one thing, you got the Foundation’s event a lot of free publicity. I’ll bet people who weren’t even thinking of going before are now going to buy a ticket. I know I may. Just to prove a point.

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A Hittable Pitch? PSYCH!

Way to go, Buchholz. We’ll try to give you a little room, and not be too harsh if you falter a bit in your next start, but we are looking forward to VERY GOOD THINGS from you. Okay?

I’ll even forgive you for being called up so that there was no chance I would see you start at my first Pawsox game yesterday. (Holy crap, what a great place to see a game. Even though we got creamed by the Scranton Yankees. Even though our seats were in the middle of the row and the people on the ends didn’t have a firm grasp on the art of letting people by.) Next year we will definitely grab more tickets earlier in the season. And I can’t say that the fun of the day didn’t have anything to do with the family we went with – thanks P, L, A and C for a lovely day!

Junior (and the other two boys) got the Pawsox team baseball cards, so we have the Buchholz card front and center today.

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Me and My Wide Stance

Senator Craig says he has a wide stance, and that’s why when he sits on the toilet in a men’s room, his foot goes all the way under the door and touches the foot of the person sitting next to him.

I have to tell you, I tried to do this at work (the other stall was empty) and I almost fell off the toilet.

I am starting to think that maybe, just maybe, Senator [as of this minute] Craig may just be creating what we at the Dump House like to call “a story.” Every once in a while Junior tries to pass off a story to cover up whatever he is doing/has done and my standard response is “do I look stupid to you?” That’s the point where he comes clean.

I’m thinking that I should start writing outright lies about my life. You know, to spice things up. And if anyone calls me on it, I’ll explain it’s because I have a wide stance.

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Li’l Herb Alpert Junior

I’m scared. Really scared. Today, Junior takes his first trumpet lesson. Are you listening? Trumpet. Meaning he has to practice. In my house.

Flash back a billion years ago to the year 1976. Little Jody B went to a presentation by the music teacher about all the different band instruments available to the kids at Priest Street School. And Little Jody B chose….the trumpet. Well, I wanted to play the coronet, but the school rental instruments didn’t have one, only a slightly dinged-up trumpet. So for two years, I took trumpet lessons at school, the highlight of which was my solo performance at the annual talent show of the Carpenter’s song “Close to You.” My mom still speaks in awed tones of the brilliance of my performance, and her disappointment that we didn’t continue on with the trumpet when I moved up to junior high, because I wanted to take chorus and you couldn’t do both.

I’m still scared that a 10 year old boy will be practicing trumpet in my house. I remember what my first weeks were like 31 or so years ago. (Good Lord! 31?) It wasn’t pretty.

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This Is Not Me

Okay, I’ve been meaning to share this with all of you. What you see below you is what happened when Mr. Dump showed the 16 year old, AKA JPDLF his new Wacom Tablet. JPDLF asked if he could try it out. He was left alone for a very short while. Did I mention the first thing I ever drew with a Wacom looked suspiciously like the kind of cloud a two year old draws the first time they pick up a crayon? I thought not.

This is the kid who does the infamous Etch a Sketch art. (Ohh, I was going to link but it looks like the link is broken in the archives. Remind me to fix that tonight).

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