Xmas 2008

  

Merry Christmas 2008

From Brad, Gwen, Odin, Cyrus, and Drake Myers

What was new? Drake was growing into his fat arms. Cyrus was funny and smart. Odin was a soccer stud. Gwen was hot and a Supermom. Gilligan and Skipper lived on. I was a broken fat man. 

What’s new now? Drake will be 3 in March, Cyrus 7 in May, and Odin 9 in July. Yeah, it goes fast. They all go to school and lie about liking it.

Drake is cute, smart, and very funny. He benefits from having older brothers in the sense that we messed up the first two so much that he’s taken on teaching himself stuff. Odin or Cyrus will do something offensive, less than intelligent, or even punishable by law and Drake will just point at them and look at us as if to say, “Your fault they’re like that”. Hey, when you’re right, you’re right. So we typically shrug, sigh, and fill his scotch back half full—he doesn’t like an empty bottle. Drake has moved into a big boy bed so we now have a queen sized bed for guests instead of finding you curled up around our toilet like we do so many times. Good times. We thought we had laughed as much as we could with just Odin and Cyrus running the house. But Drake adds another dimension of funny and I highly recommend his company. This is neat-- potty training started. That’s fun. You’ll hear him scurry across the house, the toilet seat will slam open and then you’ll hear a stream of water hitting some calm water followed by a flush. That’s all good. You know what you can’t hear? You can’t hear a turd landing on carpet no matter how solid the turd. You can’t hear the difference between dancing in socked feet to “Thomas” and dancing in pooped feet to “Thomas”. It’s all part of growing up and he’s our last one so this is just another stage of life that will disappear forever for us, until grandchildren. I can’t wait for the time in my life when someone will just hand me a bottle of scotch and I get to point at people and think they’re stupid. I can’t wait to casually… no… happily crap on the floor and dance in it while watching “Thomas”. They’d call that “incontinence” , I’d call it “Tuesday’s and Thursday’s”.

Cyrus excels in school but he’s sort of a class clown- the funny kind. He’s finding humor in many places and it’s working well for him. This one time, at band camp (obscure movie reference- I mean soccer but this is just how my head works. I’m so off topic now, this is probably more annoying than usual to read, huh?), Odin was a defender and Cyrus was playing goalie. Odin went to kick the ball out of bounds but the first thing to touch the ball was his butt because he missed it so bad. Cyrus couldn’t stop laughing about it. I don’t blame him, that stuff was funny-got it on tape. He just seems to laugh a lot and find humor wherever he can. I just hope his humor is more sophisticated than mine; we don’t need two of us farting and giggling all the time.  Cyrus did join the Cub Scouts this year—ending my comments on that—just stating the facts. EVEN BETTER: He won first place in Mutton Bustin’ this year at the Puyallup fair. Mutton Bustin’ is where you set your kid on a live sheep and hope he hangs on the longest while it races across a rodeo pen. I was proud and happy but not surprised he won first place. Look who his father is, how else would he know how to climb on a sheep and ride that thing till it’s tired? Booyeah! Anyway, Cyrus is happy and tiny so I can still hold him in a ball and I love it.

Odin matured into quite a good soccer player-- when the incentive was right. What’s the right incentive you ask? $5 a goal—anything less just gets you some whining.  He was running 2-3 goals a game for 3-4 games when someonegwen felt it wasn’t fair to Cyrus so we cut the funding. The goals stopped…so did the smiles. Because the most important thing about youth soccer is the winning and you know it, you just won’t admit it. The youth coaches keep trying to teach them to “have fun first”, and once your 6-8 year old starts believing that crap, it’s hard to break ‘em. I thought we were on the right track by associating money with goal making which had the side benefit of teaching him not to pass, but I was told that wasn’t fair—or something-- I was being escorted out and doing a lot of yelling so I’m not sure what they said-- probably something stupid. Anyway, once those greenbacks stopped flowing he started feeling less pressure, “enjoyed” himself more and played as a contributing team member. Yeah, it made me sick when the other teams kept scoring and winning and then had the gall to high-five us and say “Good game”. That’s loser speak.    Odin is still the most responsible, reliable, great hearted person he’s always been. He’s creative in everything he does and takes care of his brothers as if he likes them. I was used to getting beat up by my siblings so this lovey-touchy approach to caring for your siblings is new and a little creepy, but it looks nice. Odin’s growing into a responsible little man, and although I can’t really hold him, he still wants hugs and kisses and I’ll take all I can get. Besides, I miss sheep. Baaaaa.

Gilligan and Skipper are still alive, but I’m not sure how. They have lots of fur but half of that is in our house, on the ground, in the air, in our food, and sometimes in my underwear. I know, weird right? Their fur must keep them warm enough to live and our rat problem seems to be diminishing so the dogs have found a sustainable food source. Just hope their smart enough not to eat the young… or only one of the sexes. See? You gotta be real resourceful living in this household or in their case “shedhold”. Night-night, puppies.

Gwen still works full time from home, raises our kids, sheds the dogs, feeds our “eat holes” (Drake’s words for mouth), shops, cleans, mows the grass, takes the kids to extra activities, finds time for family and friends and then still loves me based on an agreement she made 12 years ago. I’d of left me 9 of those ago--- I was pretty cool until about circa ’99 when it all went downhill for me. Gwen continues to work in all three boys’ classrooms during the week which keeps her in tune with their lives. She works with them after school on homework and just ensures that this whole house runs smoothly. There are so many daily things that she handles it’s hard to list them all—so I tell her often, not just once a year in a X-mas stupidletter. I recommend that for everyone. It’s like the Golden Rule thing (not the golden shower thing that gets me kicked out of Scouting events) which basically says, “Don’t be a jackass to someone if you don’t want them to be a jackass to you.” But since I am a jackass I had to come up with my own, “Tell people you like ‘em while they’re not dead, they’ll hear you better.” Gwen, I really like you.

I’m slow, lazy, hungry, and mostly unmotivated but it’s probably the fear of failure that really makes my stomach sick and gives me anal fissures.  … I’ve been trying to write a book for several years now (who hasn’t been) and I’m nearly ready to submit. I’ll be shopping my book out soon so if you know any editors or publisher contacts I’d love some leads! Unless you never want to see my print then I’d suggest you send me an email so I can stop sending you offensive X-mas letters (seriously, you won’t hurt my feelings jibcarrib@gmail.com). It’s a comedy book about the work place with a little bit of poo humor and I intend to target the gift book market next year, I hope. I did some paid writing for Hasbro (via Enter the Studio) when they revised their online Risk game presence. The game is cool, the writing sucks, ignore it. Other than writing and being lazy I’m also enjoying my motorcycles and friends, one of which I may not be able to keep with the economy the way it is.

 

From our happy family to yours, we wish you a Happy Christmas and a Merry New Year

The Myers Family

No comments:

Post a Comment