Reflections of a Freaking Genius

Tomorrow will be my 53rd Thanksgiving...wow!  I've been watching the posts on Facebook as friends have posted their laundry list of things that for which they're thankful.  I admire the spirit of the exercise, although some are better at it than others.  You know that someone is tapping out of ideas when you see, "Today I'm thankful for...um....uh...keys on the computer keyboard that still have visible letters."  Then there are the ones that miss for a few days and have to play catch up, "I've missed 5 days, so today I'm thankful for 5 random friends in my 'friend list'...you know who you are." This year, I have three thanksgiving meals.  Yep, three.  This could be a serious problem.  I'm at the age now where I should be eating less and I have a record number of meals.  I already freaked out this morning when putting on a pair of jeans for one of our fantastic 'jeans days' at work and even sucking it in as far as I could...i...

Hi, I'm FG.  I'm a Nascar fan.  There...I said it.  It feels good to come clean and make it public.  The key is admitting it...right?  I've been a fan for years, but hid the fact due to ridicule and harassment.  Now I choose to make known the fact that I love the smell of tire smoke, alcohol infused fuel, the sound of 900 horsepower screaming at unbelievable RPM's, and the sight of men and women being hurtled down a track at over 200 MPH.  My adrenaline flows, my pulse quickens, and I'm like a little kid at Christmas when I see a live race at a track.  I was hooked the very first time I saw a race....the very first televised race when Cale Yarbrough and Donnie Allison spun each other out and into the infield grass, got out of their cars and starting wailing on each other with their fists.  You had me at, "You dirty son of a....."!! You can only imagine the harassment I receive about racing.  My friend Jose stated the most co...

For some reason, I seem to wander through the toy department in stores more these days....as if the little man is needing more stuff already.  It seems like we're trying to create a whole new nation of freaking geniuses, because most of the toys anymore seem to be in the category of child development.  Toys used to be fairly open ended.  Trucks, airplanes, toy guns (we were heathens), tractors, boats...you created your own play for the most part.  Now it's pre-programmed...there are learning objectives in mind for so many 'toys' these days.  I kind of thought toys assumed fun, entertainment, smiles, creativity...not 2 year old calculus majors. Sam is just over 2 months old now, so he's getting to be more than a sleeping, eating, poop machine.  He's starting to be able to control his movements better, attempts at dexterity are starting to appear, head movements, abdominal and neck strength is improving...now to get it to all work together....

For a while now, my oldest son, his wife and now my grandson, my Mom, and I all live in the same town.  It's been nice having everyone close since it's been a long time since we've all been within a handful of miles of one another.  My other two sons aren't too far away, but we can't seem to get together as often.  I'm really glad that my little man, my grandson Sammy, lives so close...makes a Papa happy! One of the traditions that we have started is getting together for a family dinner night.  Up until recently, it's been on Wednesday nights...a standing date with the fam.  I've always believed that family traditions are important and valuable...they don't seem to be as treasured by families as they used to be, generally speaking.  We rotate going to each others' homes, and after a full rotation, we go out to eat somewhere.  Because of crazy work schedules, we've decided that Sunday brunch may be a better time.  So this morning, we were in...

        Dad Called Unfit Parent for Refusing Son McDonalds (Link to article)       When I read the article above, I was so incensed that I knew the topic would make it's way here, to the "batcave" of the FG archives.  I read the article when I was at work...my face turned red, I began sputtering and stammering, my veins bulged from my neck, and Keith, with a "deer in the headlights" look in his eye picked up the phone to dial 911, thinking I was having a heart attack.  This was wrong on so many levels that I didn't even know where to begin in my disgust.   A New York non-custodial parent in the midst of a custody battle over his 4 year old son (please don't blow by the fact that this kid is FOUR years old...4....quatro, vier, fyra - for those of you fluent in Spanish, Dutch and Swedish).  The father has a typical Tuesday night place he takes hi...

Not many people realize that November is National Adoption Awareness Month.  I know it's easy for it to be lost when there seems to be nationally recognized month and days for everything these days...National Peanut Butter and Jelly day, National Hug a Midget Day, National Blonde Russians with  Two Big Toes on Their Left Foot Awareness Month...sheesh. I have a great deal of interest in promoting this one, however.  I was adopted at birth.  For reasons still not exactly clear, arrangements were made with her doctor who cared for her during pregnancy (who also happened to be my parents' doctor) to allow who would become my parents to raise me.  Of course my twin bother...I mean brother....was a part of the package.  We would instantly have an older brother who was also adopted, but from a different family. I'm grateful for the experience, especially after my curiosity led me to research my origins.  I ended up being raised by two of the bes...

  It's been a while since our last visit...my apologies.  I'd like to be able to say my absence is due to being so darned busy, or that my computer broke, or I was kidnapped by armed thugs, or that I had an abscessed tooth that made my head swell like a basketball...oh yeah, that last one DID happen.  But that's the topic of another post. The topic of this post is the arrival of the little man, Sammy.  Ok, ok....it was two months ago...don't judge me! September 3 was the culmination of his determination to arrive a month early.  He's about as patient as his Papa.  Yep, this freakin' genius will be known to at least one human being as Papa.  I like it...I'm not nearly old enough to be a grandpa.  That sounds so....so.....geriatric.  Just because I got new glasses doesn't mean that I'm ready for the home, in spite of what my three sons say. They tried to stop contractions when little Samuel Allen was knocking on the door of ...