Welcome Cole!

Cole Aslan Faircloth was born on Thursday, 4/9/09, at 7:20 pm. 8 pounds, 1.7 ounces and 21 inches long! Everybody is happy and healthy and doing well. You can click on the photo album link to the right to view more pictures of our new cutie.

Adventures in Reading...

I mentioned on this blog a while ago that my 4 year old daugther taught herself to read. Well, she's five now and reads vociferously. Seriously... she devours books... big ones.... we're not talking "Green Eggs and Ham"... she's reading Laura Ingalls Wilder books, Anne of Green Gables and these American Girl sets of books. She plows through them faster than I think I could.... and I mean that.

Anyway... there's been a few moments when she reads something and then proceeds to tell us about things later on... such as telling us all about bomb shelters and the underground railroad. Did I mention she is five? There are also those moments when she tells us about things that she only knows within the context of reading. For example, a few months ago, she was asking me about the "onions" and the "cunderfeats" that fought in the Civil War. Well, silly me... I never thought to tell her about the Civil War and how it was fought between the "Union" and the "Confederates".... obviously, I got a good laugh out of that.

Well, today... Reagan busted out with my favorite one thus far. She just randomly sang someting to the effect of "Molly and Henry sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G". Now, we are all reading that and know the exact tune. Well, Reagan had never heard that before (thankfully). So, when she sang it...well, it wasn't that tune... and the HILARIOUS part is when she got to the K-I-S-S-I-N-G, she didn't spell it out, like it's supposed to be sung... because, of course, she doesn't have that context. Instead, she sang it kind of like a billy goat might... "KKKKKiiiiiSSSSSiiiiNNNNNggggg"... I was cracking UP!

Little moments like this make me thankful to be a Dad.

Lovin' Hot Moms at the Monster Truck Rally

I have to give all credit to Kelly on this one. Recently, she saw an advertisement on TV for an upcoming "Monster Jam" show at the Verizon Center (where the Wizards play basketball). She told me about it because she knew Luke would LOVE it -- and best of all, it said kid's tickets were only $10. So, I looked into it and... well... the kids tickets were, indeed, only $10. But that meant you had to sit in the nosebleeds and after paying for the adult ticket and all the fees, I was looking at about $70 to go to the Monster Truck show. Needless to say, with my sole experience of monster trucks coming from numerous ESPN shows in the 80's, I thought that was a bit steep.

Now, I was completely willing to pay that... however, I thought I would wait until the last minute and see if I could pick up some tickets on craigslist and save a buck or two and hopefully get better seats. However, one magical night shortly thereafter, I was watching Fox News and a commercial came on for Monster Jam that said: "Go to fox5 news website and register for your Monster Jam Party Pack".... except they said it in that monster truck voice (you know: SUNDAY, SUNDAY, SUNDAY!!!!!). Well, needless to say I registered immediately... and, lo and behold, about a week later I got an email saying that I was the big winner! That's right, I was the winner of the prestigious Monster Jam prize pack. Now, let me own up here.... I was SOOOO excited -- I had WON tickets... how cool is that? And, best of all, it included 4 tickets so I invited my friend Matt and his son Grant who is also 4 years old like Luke. Matt originally had a date night planned with his wife that night (in fact, we were babysitting for them). But Matt is a man that knows his priorities and knows that date night can always be bumped back a day or two because "serious heart pounding Monster Truck action" does not come to town every day. So, after getting his bride's permission (uhh... I said he "knows his priorities" not that he was "stupid"), Matt was in on the fun.

Now, again... my entire exposure to Monster Trucks was from numerous airings of the "sport" on ESPN during the 80's (before ESPN was "ESPN") and I wanted to really have some fun with my wardrobe. So naturally I head to Walmart looking for some sweet John Deere gear so that I can be ironically trendy. Unfortunately, Walmart does not carry any John Deere t-shirts. Who knew? In my minds eye, I pictured Walmart having rows and rows of the green stuff. No such luck. Anyway, I gave serious consideration to purchasing a Mountain Dew t-shirt (made famous by Ricky Bobby's son, Texas Ranger... you know: "Chip... I'm all jacked up on Mountain Dew!"). However, I concluded that the $7.96 price tag was just too steep. Instead, I decided to wear the most obnoxious t-shirt I owned. That's right... I decided to unveil my "I love hot moms" t-shirt for the first time since "the incident." It seemed like a perfect fit for such an event... and besides... I'll keep my jacket on most of the time and it might, hopefully, make a few people chuckle.

So, with my "I love hot moms" t-shirt stylishly adorned over a long sleeve white t-shirt, we arrive at the Verizon Center and the first thing we notice is that our seats are AWESOME!!!! Seriously, they were the best seats in the house. Apparently, the winner of the Fox5 News prize pack gets treated really, really well. Here's a picture of Luke and I in our seats.... but they don't really do them justice... they were front row, center section, aisle seats... they just don't get any better than that. It's the kind of seats you'd sell a kidney to have to watch your favorite team.

Alright... now here is where the story gets really good. We weren't in our seats 10 minutes before a real official looking lady (in the "monster truck" sense) asks us if we want to be judges for the "freestyle" competition. And, well... duh... is the pope Catholic? Does a one-legged duck swim in circles????.... OF COURSE WE WANT TO BE JUDGES!

First we undergo an extensive tutorial and orientation on how to judge. Here is a picture of her as she begins the teaching:


You're probably thinking this orientation lasted... what.. a half hour? No... not so much ... it lasted about 15 seconds and her only rule was "Don't give out 10's" and handed us the flip chart with numbers on it. As you can see in this picture of Matt holding his flip chart, he is beside himself with pure, unadulterated, testosterone fueled excitement (and I shared that same sense of "somebody pinch me... this is the fulfillment of a lifelong dream"):

Thankfully, there was a set of judging rules printed on the front of the flip chart. Here they are:

The girl next to me (who was the third judge.... no doubt playing the encouraging/slightly coked out "Paula Abdul" role) asks "What is a Sky Wheelie?" Great question... I was wondering the same thing myself. I told her: "It's whatever we want it to be." Surprisingly, she accepts this answer (she was only about 12 years old... so, she was probably overwhelmed by my advanced intellect... or perhaps my "I love hot moms" t-shirt... I'm not sure which).

Well, we caught on pretty quickly and were adhering strictly to the extensive list of rules... quite possibly doing the best judging job they have ever seen (we may have, in fact, made ourselves eligible for their hall of fame). We do this judging thing for about 1/2 the show... the entire beginning and the entire ending (footnote: we reserved giving out a "10" until the very end when we bestowed upon "Grave Digger" with a perfect score.... after all, I loved his Cyclone Donut to Sky Wheelie combination). Needless to say, it is not lost on us that we are getting some serious face time on the Verizon Center's Jumbotron. I even snap a picture. Here's the money shot:

That's me (notice the t-shirt and camera in hand), Matt to my right, and our boys (Luke and Grant) in the middle. Then... at some point it hits me. I'm wearing my obnoxious "I love hot moms" t-shirt and, thanks for an awesome turn of events and the technology of the Jumbotron, every one of the 18,000 spectators knows it.

Classic. Absolutely Classic.

Supa Dupa Babee

I cannot disclose the details of where I first came across the "Supa Dupa Babee"... let's just say that a friend of mine... possibly related to me... is in the military and volunteers his time at Christmas for a major charity (that may or may not rhyme with Boys for Cots). Anyway... someone donated a couple of these dolls and it was decided that they were not suitable to hand out to kids.... Hmmm... wonder why. Let's go through this step-by-step. Here's the beloved and world-renowned Supa Dupa Babee in the box:

OK... other than the cheesy graphics and "Chucky"-esque quality about this doll... nothing really too terribly odd. Now, let's check out the back of the box... and this is where things start getting a bit weird:

"He can blast the evil crackin' cocaine outta sight!"..... Huh? I'm all about teaching my kids about the ills of illegal pharmaceuticals.... but must they be so specific? And why cocaine? Why not meth or marijuana or Ox or Heroin? The specificity and obsession on coke is a bit concerning. Are 2 year olds really in jeopardy of taking a ride on the white horse? Do I need to start warning my own kids to stay away from the booger sugar? Apparently, the makers of this fine product think it's about time we parents start doing so... and that's why they've created the Supa Dupa Babee to empower us in this worthy endeavor. Now we move on to the side of the box:

"Kindegarten and school-aged children imitate his unique space-age look" screams the side of the box. Umm... I'm no expert here... but I'm pretty certain that if I sent my kid to school looking like a sateen version of Mork from Ork.... he's going to get his ass kicked... so... I'll pass... thanks. Though, I must admit.... the boy on the box seems very satisfied with his Supa Dupa Babee (and no doubt is well-prepared to steer clear of cocaine). Time to turn to the other side of the box... and here's what we get:

The master marketers that assembled this product now tell us that the Supa Dupa Babee will tell your children (again with even greater specificity... they are actually warning you about a specific formulation of cocaine this time): "YOU GOTTA FIGHT BACK! SAY NO TO DRUGS! SAY NO TO CRACK!" And... well... I'm happy to report, this is quite true.... press the Supa Dupa Babee and he quite literally says those very words... along with some other Jibber Jabber (I thought the term "Jibber Jabber"... popularized, of course, by Mr. T was somehow the best choice of words to convey 'nonsense' in this situation). OK... lastly.... I could barely contain my excitement as I extracted Supa Dupa Babee from his box.... and here he is:

The only thing I can think is that they originally were going to create a line of "Space Pimp" dolls and ordered a bunch from China... only to discover they weren't selling and would have limited appeal to kindegarteners. Then some genius came up with the concept to have the Space Pimp be an anti-drug superhero named, of course, Supa Dupa Babee.

Anyway... if anyone wants to order these dolls... you could probably get them pretty cheap... I think someone is running around town trying to pawn these off on the "less-fortunate" (no doubt with the sole altruistic purpose in mind of keeping kids off crack.... because CRACK is WHACK!).

There are no words...

This weekend we went to Virginia Beach to visit my parents (and sister and brother-in-law who were visiting from Georgia). One of the things I have always enjoyed doing there is sitting at the kitchen table, drinking a cup of coffee and reading the newspaper. Not sure why I do... I just always have. It's nearly impossible to do now with three kids... but, I still steal a few moments and quickly scan the paper... and that's what I did on Thursday morning.

As I was scanning the paper... something caught my eye. It was an obituary. Not sure why I was in that section... other than frantically trying to find something of interest to read before I got sidetracked by something more worthy of my time. Well... anyway... take a look at the following obituary and see if it catches your eye too:



Uhh.... did you scratch your head, too? Out of respect for this person, I'm not even going to write her name here (and I don't wan't the google hits from pervs who can't even spell correctly)... but... seriously? Who names their kid that?

I tried to give them the benefit of the doubt and assume that it was a 'real' name of some historical origin... but no such luck. The best I could find was that it was possibly an English name. But, then I came to my senses and realized that if "Penis" was a legitimate name of some historical origin... I'm still not naming my kid that.... even if I took an alternate spelling of Peenis or Pinis?

Anyway... I just had to share.

I yell during Redskins games. If you are a Redskins fan, you know why. It's been 16 years of painful football. Just awful season after awful season. So... I yell at the TV. The kids get a kick out of it and ask constantly "Why does daddy talk to the TV?" Even they, at their young age, understand that this is an exercise in futility.

Well, anyway, today Reagan was watching the 2nd half of today's installment of God-Awful Redskins football with me. (Brief tangent: I absolutely love when she watches the game with me. For one, it keeps me calm and helps me put things in perspective. Yes, I root for the worst football team in America. But, at the end of the day, it's just football and when the game is over, I still have my beautiful family to cheer me up.)

So, when Reagan came down, the first thing she did was draw me a picture and showed it to me proudly. It was this picture:



I took a look at it and told her how great it was and thanked her profusely, not really knowing what it was. She never bothered to explain it either.... she just handed it to me.

Anyway... Reagan was around, so I was on my best behavior and not yelling at the TV. Then, the Redskins did something dumb (of course they did... it's what they do best) and I spontaneously yelled something at the TV.

Just then, Reagan got a big smile on her face and grabbed the picture and put it in front of me... and then I realized what the picture was...

It's me yelling at the TV. Hilarious. At least she drew it with a smile on my face.

The Annual Christmas Card

It's that time of the year again. That duty of the Christmas season that I put off and put off and keep making excuses to my wife as to why I can't do it. That's right... it's time to take our annual Christmas picture for the Christmas card.

It wasn't always this difficult. When we first got married.... it was just the two of us. The digital photography revolution was not yet upon us. We would set up our old school film camera on the self-timer, take a handful of pictures and hope for the best.

Then, sometime before we had kids, we made the move to a digital camera. Now, in all fairness to Kelly... this was completely my doing. I wanted a new gadget and the digital camera just seemed like too cool of a thing to NOT have.... so... with much coaxing, Kelly finally approved the purchase. It was the December following that purchase when I started to dread the "Christmas" picture. Gone were the days of snapping a couple of pictures and hoping for the best.... because, now... you see... thanks to digital technology, Kelly had perfection within her grasp. And if there is one thing I know about Kelly... it's that if perfection is actually an attainable attribute... she's going to not just "strive" for it.... but insist on it (hence the reason she married me, of course).

So, what started to occur was the taking of picture after picture after picture until "perfection" was achieved. In actuality, all of the pictures would look the same to me... because... well, you know, they would be of the same 2 people over and over again.... and, I'm no Derek Zoolander....I've only got one smile. Maybe I'm just not that perceptive... but it seemed to me that we would take 20 shots and, in the end, just go with the first one anyway.

Then, of course, we added kids to the mix which made the task increasingly difficult (you trying getting 3 kids under the age of 5 and an easily distracted Dad to look at a camera that's set on a self-timer.... it's not so easy). But I love my wife dearly and it's important to her... so I happily oblige (after I've exhausted all my excuses) when Kelly is ready to take it.

Now, for this year's picture, Kelly would like me to point out that it ws over and done with only 3 shots -- a fact for which I am grateful (I'd like to take some credit for that because once we take one that Kelly sort of likes, I ride it like Seabiscuit and talk about how good it is... because, again, every picture looks the same to me). Also, I should have pointed out that we've gone to great lengths to try to make our Christmas card somewhat entertaining.... we've done top 10 lists, goofy newsletters, etc. This year, the card lists our top 10 reasons "the faircloth five will become the faircloth six in 2009". I think it achieves the lofty goal I've set for myself of "mildly amusing."

One small problem, however. Though we ordered the cards over a week ago they have yet to be printed and Kelly is now stressing out that the cards ordered with this year's picture are not going to get here in time. To me, this isn't a concern... we'll just mail them when we get them and if our friends and family get them after Christmas.... no big deal. Besides, it's only the 9th and there's plenty of time for them to arrive. But, apparently, the earth just might stop spinning if that scenario were to occur.... so we must avoid that at all costs.

I actually called the place today and, after waiting on hold for a half hour, had a nice chat with them. They assure me they will be here in time. So, if you're reading this, it's probably safe to assume you are on the Faircloth Christmas card list. Let me assure you (because I'm sure you've been just worrying yourself sick about this) that you have not been deleted from our Christmas card list. You will receive your Faircloth Christmas card.... you will one day have that sinking feeling you get when your Faircloth Christmas Card does not arrive in your mailbox replaced with pure joy.... and you will one day find out the "Top 10 reasons the Faircloth Five will become the Faircloth Six in 2009"...

And when that day comes... look at that picture of our family... of my gorgeous wife... my beautiful kids.... and, of course, of me.... and know that at that very moment that picture was taken... I'm praying that this picture will be the "one" deemed worthy enough by my bride to appear on our annual Christmas card.

It's (going to be) a Boy!

This is going to be our fourth child. And since it's our fourth, there are certain steps in this 9 month process that I have come to expect and anticipate... they go something like this:

• Kelly will tell me she's pregnant (usually while giggling)
• I'll enter into a brief panic
• We'll go to the doctor and the doctor will tell Kelly a bunch of stuff
• The only thing I know about this initial doctor visit is that they give me a big bill to pay
• My adorable (and, when it comes to buying something for herself, frustratingly frugal) wife will try to wear old stretched out maternity clothes and refuse to buy anything new
• I will force Kelly to buy new maternity clothes
• I will join Kelly at the Dr's again, this time to find out the sex of the baby
• Kelly will cry at the site of the ultrasound
• I'll sit there puzzled and answer "you sure?"... when the Dr. says "this is the head" or "this is an arm"
• Kelly will enter the final months of pregnancy...
• and then, finally, the baby will come and the real work begins

Well, anyway, today.. we hit that stage of the process where we found out the sex of the baby. As is her custom, Kelly cried her eyes out at the site of our little guy... which, for me, is sweet to see the immense love she has for the baby that she is carrying. I, on the other hand, am an emotionless shell of a man that has to feel, touch, and wrestle with my baby before I can truly bond with him.

At any rate, the results are in and it's going to be a boy! Since I refused to discuss names until I knew the sex (other than wanting Winnie Cooper if it was a girl -- a battle I would have lost horribly, by the way), we now have to do the work of finding a good boy name. This is trickier than you might think... because I want a name that means something. For example... our first three:

• Reagan: She was, naturally, named after the character played by Linda Blair in the Exorcist (you know... the spinning, puking head). OK... so... maybe not... Reagan was named after Ronaldus Magnus... The Great Communicator... that's right... Ronald Reagan.
• Luke: Named after someone the ladies loved.... someone that could shoot a bow and arrow to get out of trouble... someone who refused to bow to the unjust demands of "johnny law"... someone who refused to open his car door to enter it.... that's right... Luke Duke. OK, not so much. His name was influenced by the fact that we were studying the gospel of Luke at church during that time (but that's not nearly as good of a story as 'Luke Duke').
• Will: No jokes here.... Will's first name is after Kelly's father and his middle name (Charles) is after my father. Those are two men who Kelly and I are the utmost respect for and it was an honor to be able to name him that (thankfully, neither was named Wilbur.... or Sally, for that matter).

OK... so, you see, we have kind of a standard set. Kelly was looking through baby names this evening and ruled out the following names: Nuno, Shaka, Doggie (a real Scottish-origin name), Chineze (ironically enough, an African name), Dong-Yul (no one... I repeat.. no one... should name their kid 'dong'... in fact, this name literally translates to Christmas Weener... and that's just not cool to name your kid Christmas Weener... you know?), Ding Bang, Boy (a bit impersonal, no? an actual name of English origin), Duck Young, Eachthighern (huh?) and Ed (just because)....

Other than that.... the sky is the limit. Please forward me your wonderful and meaningful baby boy names ... I'm all ears.

We love Sarah Palin

When Reagan got home from school today, she had a sticker on her shirt that said "I Voted!" I (Kelly) immediately started asking her questions. I wasn't sure who she's heard Scott and I talk about or who she would actually vote for at school. So I asked her, "Well, who did you vote for?" And she said, "Sarah Palin! Her name was on there! It really was!!!" I love that she's picked up on our conversations at home about how much I love Sarah Palin and think she is so awesome. I said, "Well, did it say John McCain too?" And she said, "John McCain???" Ha! I love it!

Tater Tot Casserole

I met with my friend Jason last week at Fireworks Pizza in Leesburg (a great little place, by the way). Jason is a former co-worker and we share the same sense of humor and an admiration for good beer (Fireworks has a great selection)... so it was fun to get together with him over a few. Anyway, when we worked together, I used to joke that I was going to be making the 'tater tot casserole' just like the Duggars one day. A totally inside joke that only a few people would get because they would have had to (1) watched an obscure show on cable featuring a family with a billion kids and (2) remembered that this family LOVED tater tot casserole. Well... anyway... Jason got the joke (you can see why I enjoyed working with him).

As you know, we are expanding to four kids... So, when we got together... Jason pulled a folded piece of paper out and said "i got you a little something..." Having no idea what it was -- but knowing full well it was some kind of joke -- I cautiously opened the paper. Written inside? That's right, THE recipe for tater tot casserole. So, for your reading enjoyment, or if you ever have 20 kids... I submit to you the aformentioned tater tot casserole (copied word for word -- with my comments in paranthesis -- from the recipe provided by Jason, presumably pulled from the Duggars website or something):

2 lb ground turkey cooked, seasoned, drained (because tater tot casserole is all about your health)
3 2 lb bags tater tots (that's right 3 freaking bags!)
2 cans cream of mushroom
2 cans evaporated milk (evaporated milk always troubles me... if it's 'evaporated'... why does it then slosh around in the can? I've never actually opened one of those cans to find out the 'real' story)
2 cans cream of chicken
Brown meat & place in large (you think?) casserole dish
Cover with tater tots (this cracks me up..not sure why). Mix soup & Milk together.
Pour over top. Bake at 350 for 1 hour
One of Daddy's favorites! (apparently Mr. Duggar loves it... I think we can now safely conclude that tater tots increase virility... in fact, if you look at the side of the package of tater tots, it probably now says: "if you experience an erection lasting longer than 4 hours, call your doctor")
Makes 2 - 9X13 pans

Well... there you have it. I suppose you could 1/2 the recipe... but, then again... tater tot casserole is probably so darned good, you'd better double the recipe.

Can Someone Please Explain...

Can someone... anyone... please explain why my wife is addicted to those shows on TLC where they have 20,000 kids. You know what I'm talking about... John & Kate Plus 8 or the Duggars... anyway... here are my thoughts:

• I just don't get it.
• I usually refuse to watch it.
• The last thing I want to do after a long day at work and then putting my own kids to bed is watching someone else's whiney kids.
• Mine are all I can take (not to say that my kids are whiney... but, trust me... they have their moments).
• She's watching one right now... and she thinks she's sneaking it in while I bang away on the computer.
• Secretly, she's hoping that I keep typing away so that she can keep watching it.
• We only have one TV and only watch shows together.
• On Monday nights, Kelly tries to Tivo Jon & Kate and Dancing with the Stars at the same time... which means I can't watch anything else.
• Monday nights have only meant one thing in my 32 years on this earth... that's right... Monday Night Football.
• Dancing with the Stars gets the boot, Monday Night Football wins that battle.
• I think our Dr. is concerned we're headed for our own show on TLC.
• She told Kelly at her first appointment that "she should start thinking about what kind of birth control to use now" after this pregnancy.
• That Dr. is very lucky I was not at that appointment.
• I would have kindly... but firmly let her know that we have retained her services to monitor the health of Kelly and to deliver a healthy baby and we do not need nor solicit her non-medical advice.
• I'm kind of sad I wasn't there when she said that.... I enjoy righteous indignation.
• I think if they just had a cable channel called: "Big Ass Families".... I'm quite certain that Kelly would watch it... 24/7.
• Lastly... I'm still waiting.... someone please explain to me the appeal of these shows.... anyone?? Bueller?

Blog Name Change

Let me answer the questions in advance:

(1) No, we are not Mormons
(2) No, we are not Catholics
(3) Yes.... we know what causes "it"
(4) No, we are not trying to get our own show on TLC
(5) Yes, we know how much they cost
(6) No, we're not trying to field our own little league team
So.. if you haven't figured it out by now.... The Faircloth Five is excited to let everyone know that we will now be the Faircloth Six... well... actually... I don't want to give up that alliteration... so, I'm thinking we'll be the Faircloth Five plus one .... and that's what brings me to answer the oft-asked questions....

7) Yes, we will change the name of the blog

From this point forward... the Faircloth Five blog will now be The Faircloth Five (plus one)... unless, of course, you have any better suggestions.

So... I've been a bit busy working some things out once we received the news...so I'll post an update tomorrow... which may or may not include the following topics... if you feel strongly on one or the other... just let me know:

• Stocks down, Redskins up


• Oktoberfest in Arlington w/my Brother-in-Law -- without Adult Supervision.


• You bought a pregnancy test from where?


• How to turn a Ford Fusion into an 8 passenger SUV w/o breaking a sweat


• The creepiest pro-Obama youtube video -- EVER!!! (I could have had about 100 politically motivated posts... but didn't want to dirty up the blog.)


• Facebook killed my blog


• Flashback: How to get ejected from a Redskins game (hint: you really have to make an effort)


• Flashback #2: Did I really cry after a Redskins victory over Dallas in 2005 (it's not what you think -- reminded by this after Redskins spanked the Cowboys last week)

OK... so.. that's just some of what's in the pipeline... I'll knock the best ones out first.... I wish I knew how to post a poll... then you (all 4 of you) could vote and I'd know which one to do next... barring a last minute technological breakthrough, however, you'll just have to be at my mercy.

Like Father, Like Son

Luke has really been into scratching himself in that place that all guys seem to like scratching themselves. Well, I learned long ago that Kelly HHHHHHHHHhaaates that, so I keep that as an after hours activity (as in, after Kelly has retired for the evening) or just don't do it at all. Well.. Luke is young and hasn't learned his mothers' disdain for this activity... and just does it all the time. Seriously... all the time... it's like he has some jock itch form of Tourette's.

And, my theory is to just tell him to stop... I mean... you don't want to scare him and tell him it's going to fall off if he keeps it up or anything along those lines.... Eventually, he'll just stop... there's only about 10% of the male population that continues this scratching practice in public through adulthood (you know who I'm talking about.... the salesman that comes into your office that grabs his junk obsessively as if it's some kind of nervous tick.... err... at least you hope it's a nervous tick)...

So, tonight when we're putting them to bed, he rips off his clothes and immediately starts scratching himself... well... you know... there. Anyway... Kelly is just exasperated and says: "Luke! Stop scratching your penis! Unless you are in the bathroom... DON'T DO IT!" Now, I'm not sure why it's allowed in the bathroom and not elsewhere... you'll have to ask Kelly about that one... I'm just reporting on the facts here...

So, being the well-behaved boy that he is, he stops and simply says: "OK, Mommy" and gets ready to read his bedtime story.

Kelly then begins reading to Reagan and Luke a story in the hallway (just outside of their rooms).

In the middle of one of the stories, Luke stops Kelly and says: "Mommy... can you pause the story... I need to go to the bathroom to scratch my penis."

Ahh... so proud... we're raising such a well-behaved (and very literal) young man! (And... for the record...I'm dreading the google hits that this story is going to get)

Reagan's First Day of Kindergarten

Hmmm.... not real sure where to start. Today was Reagan's first day of Kindergarten. Naturally, this meant that this morning was a big hot mess complete with lots of tears. Kelly was... how can I put this... well, a basket case (no worries...much like the peasant who was turned into a newt in Monty Python and the Holy Grail, she "got better"). Luke was not happy at all and was crying because he did not want his sister to go to school (Reagan and Luke have a very unique and sweet bond). And Will cries whenever Reagan or Luke cries (for real cries). So, the only members of the Faircloth family handling the situation like men were me and Reagan. Now, don't get me wrong... I felt a range of emotions and was worried/happy/sad/proud of my little girl... whatever you want to call it. I don't think the English language has a word that encompasses what that emotion is. But whatever it's called... I was dealing with it. But the difference between Kelly (as a woman) and me (as a guy) is that I have the unique ability to not indulge those emotions to the point of tears flowing from my eyes.

So...Girls/Ladies of the world...there's a takeaway to this story...and it's how to properly deal with times like these... and, it's real simple to do. You take any emotion you're feeling. Any pain... any concern... or any worry... and you package it up in this nice virtual ball... and then you punt it as far away as you can. That way, you never have to deal with it. And, let me tell you... it works. You should try it sometime.

Now, on a serious note... If I can, for just a brief moment, retrieve that package that I've punted to the far corners of my brain... I worry about her. I want her to make friends. I worry about kids being mean to her. I want her to do well at school. I worry about what she'll learn. I want her to use the gluesticks properly and not eat the paste (or rub it on her face like Mrs. Lippy in Billy Madison)....anyway... you get the idea. So many things to worry about that threaten to make me prematurely grey.... So, I'm just not going to sweat it... I'm going back to punting.

I love my miniature HDTV

I always wanted a big screen to watch my Redskins games on (and any other sports, for that matter). A couple of years ago, Kelly gave me permission to go look at them. Naturally, that was all the go-ahead I needed and I bought one. Once I picked Kelly's mouth off the floor after coming home with the new monster TV, she eventually grew to love it. Now, though I bought the big screen to watch sports on... I also intended to watch other stuff on it. Why then, now a full 2 years later, do I watch other shows on a super-small mini version of my big screen...

Well... let me explain... it goes back to the "if you give a mouse a cookie, he's going to want a glass of milk theory"... so... basically.... once I got the HDTV I needed to get the HD service to my house. And then once I got the HDTV service, it's only an extra $5 a month for the HD DVR... so, you've got to have that as well... right? Well, of course. Except, I overlooked one small detail. I never anticipated Kelly falling head over heels in love with the DVR.

For those that don't have DVR.... it is a MUST HAVE... that much is certain. Both Kelly and I can't imagine life without it. You can pause live TV, skip the commercials, record your favorite shows and watch them on your time... it's been great. The only problem is that you don't have unlimited storage... you have a finite amount....about 100 hours.... and this is where Kelly's personality traits come into play.

You see... Kelly is an order-freak, clean-freak... whatever you want to call it. So, just as she obsessively keeps the house in order (for which I... a reformed slob.... am eternally grateful), she is always obsessively clearing up the DVR. Adding shows, deleting shows, setting preferences... you get the idea. I think Kelly fears that if we ever get over 50% capacity on the DVR, the thing might explode or maybe she thinks a baby seal gets clubbed somewhere... I'm just not sure... but what I do know is that something is getting deleted and something is getting adjusted.... because that's simply unacceptable to Kelly. Now... the problem with that, you say? Well... now my large glorious HDTV is reduced to a small 19" or so viewable portion at the top of the screen. Yep, that's right... this is what I'm viewing:

That little viewable area in the corner is mine. The other 95% of the TV... that's for Kelly to do her DVR maintenance.

It's so bad that Kelly was even deleting stuff off a DVR that we were about to replace the next day (we switched from Verizon FIOS to Dish TurboHD... another story for another day). Even after I pointed out to her the hopelessness of making any changes... she just couldn't help herself.... she had to do her DVR house cleaning... and I got my 19" in the top corner.

Well... anyway I love my wife dearly and if that's all I have to put up with than I'm a blessed man.... and... because of that.... I'm happy to have my minature HDTV viewing corner.

Working Out

"...But, that's neither here nor there..."

If you just heard someone say that... it's a guarantee that you just heard some gossip immediately preceding those words.

For example, "Scott is such a fatty... but, that's neither here nor there..."

Well... I decided I never wanted to give someone the opportunity to say that... so, last week, I decided to start working out. Now, don't get me wrong... I stayed active before. I played softball twice a week and golfed when I could. I also walked to the printer from my desk...sometimes taking several of those trips per day (depending, of course, on my printing needs for that day). That is at least 20 steps.... so, roundtrip, we are talking a solid 40 steps. Multiply that by several trips a day and I must have walked 1/10th a mile or more each day. That's some serious exercise right there. Other than that I would just workout on a schedule that worked for me... that is.. I would just work out when I felt like it. Problem is, it had been about 2 years since I last felt like it.

So, anyway... I joined the Gym. Everyday Fitness in Lansdowne to be exact. It's right on my way to and from work... so, it can mock me as I drive past if I ever lose motivation and stop going. I thought that might help... but.. we'll see... maybe not. Kelly has been going there for a year and a half or so, too... so the negotiating process was pretty painless. Basically, they wanted me to commit for 2 years to get Kelly's price (which she was one of the first to join... so, it's pretty low). I told them I "had questionable dedication and a short attention span" and that I could only commit for one year (really... I said that... I just looked it up on my email to confirm). So, that apparently was enough to get them to back down. One year commitment at Kelly's same rate.... yahoo... once that chore was completed I was well on my way to health and wellness (or whatever buzz word they call it these days).

Alrighty then... so, today was my first day. I didn't want to look stupid and do one of those machines wrong... so, I had decided before I went in that I would run on the treadmill first and watch others and see how they did it. So, I walk in and head straight for the treadmill... I'm quick to get the thing going so that I can start acting like I belong. As I'm running, I remember my sole purpose for doing the treadmill first was so that I could observe.... however, small problem.... treadmill is facing the wall. Well, there went that idea... so I just commit to the treadmill and keep on going. These treadmills have a little TV attached to them... but I could never get mine to work... and, seriously, it was really hard to try to hit those little buttons while running and breathing so hard. So I gave up on that, too.

Once I was done with that, I moved on to the machines and started pumping some serious iron. Okay... so, maybe it wasn't serious. Well, for the most part, I knew how to use the machines... so no worries there.

Upon concluding my workout, I shower and head into work... and start feeling like I'm going to puke. It took me probably one hour to fully recover. I really just wanted to put my head on my desk and take a nap.

Well, I've got to go, because Kelly just made me some brownies to celebrate my first day of working out. Work out, eat brownies.... I just might be on to something.... but... that's neither here nor there.

Collection of Thoughts

Uh Oh... My Daughter's not going to be a vegetarian, is she?: Conversation at the dinner table tonight between Kelly and Reagan (my 5-year old daughter) during a dinner that featured ham:

Reagan: "Where does ham come from?"
Kelly: "From a pig."
Reagan: "I don't like eating animals"
Kelly: "I don't like eating animals, either... but they're yummy."

Reagan, accepting this, then takes a bite of her ham.

Man... dodged a bullet there... Reagan comes from a long line of prolific carnivores and I was worried she would tarnish the Faircloth name. Thankfully... she, too, realized the inherent yumminess of animals.

Facebook: I did it. I succumbed to peer pressure... I signed up for Facebook. I'm oddly obsessed... I'm collecting friends like the old crazy lady down the street is collecting cats. I just can't stop myself. I do feel a sense of satisfaction once a friendship becomes "acknowledged" through facebook... it gives it a sense of officiality. So, if you're reading this and aren't my friend on facebook... time to come on board.... I need more friends.... I feel like I'm in a contest... but can't quite figure out yet with whom..... or how to win for that matter.

New Vacuum Cleaner: It might seem like nothing to blog about... but we got a new vacuum cleaner. However, what I love about Vacuum cleaners is the way with which you can describe it. For example... "this new vacuum SUCKS!" or "Man, this vacuum really SUCKS!" or "This Vacuum SUCKS more than any other vacuum I've ever used." Which, of course, all are complimentary of said vacuum because it's sole job is to, in fact, suck. It's that little bit of irony that I find endlessly entertaining.

Well... that's it for now... time to go digging for more friends on facebook.

Baby Got Back!

A little secret about Kelly. She knows all the words to "Baby Got Back!"...seriously... ask her to sing it to you one day. Now.. I've always hated the urban edge to that song... it just never hit my musical palate. The words... now.. the words were just so impactful and spoke to me... I mean, seriously... "I want 'em real thick and juicy" has to be on a lyrical par with the great songs of the last century, such as "Yesterday, all my troubles seemed so far away." Well... now finally someone has come along and put those masterful words to a more folksy-style of music that I am accustomed to hearing. Enjoy!

Josh Hamilton is Good

I know... 2 blogs in one night... crazy. Anyway.... so, I'm watching the Home Run Derby on ESPN and Josh Hamilton just unloaded on the ball and hit 28 home runs in one round. Now, these were not just frozen ropes that barely made it over the right field wall. THEY WERE BOMBS!!!! Several of them were over 500 feet. I can't fathom that kind of power. It was fun to watch.

So, the announcers keep alluding to how he overcame drug abuse and woke up one day and decided to turn his life around. I sensed something greater was going on, however, since one of the announcers was Chris "F-Bomb" Berman who wouldn't know the spiritual side to a story if it slammed him in the face. So, since, I had never heard Hamilton's full-story before... I google him... and it turns out he has an amazing personal testimony on how the grace of Jesus Christ impacted his life. It's really a wonderful story. You can google it, as I did... or check out this ESPN article here.

Epilogue: Josh Hamilton didn't end up winning.... he was clearly fatigued from bombing so many in the first round and the goofy Home Run Derby rules don't let the homers carry over from round to round. Still... the 28 he hit was the best display of hitting I've seen since Kelly and I saw Mark McGwire take batting practice before a Reds game one year (maybe 2000?)...

Good Stuff Eatery

I've now been in DC nearly 3 years.... and in those 3 years, I have had some great meals at some really nice restaurants (usually... well... almost always on someone else's dime). Capital Grille, Charlie Palmer's, Willow Creek Farm, Tuscarora Mill and Vidalia's are all some of better ones I've enjoyed. But, really, when push comes to shove... I'd really just like a great burger... and that's one reason I was excited to eat at Good Stuff Eatery this week.

Well, that's kind of a lie... I'm also a pop-culture addict and really went to this place because it's Spike Mendelson's new place. For those that don't know, Spike was (is) the fedora wearing chef from the reality TV show Top Chef... which... thankfully, I've already previously admitted to watching. Not ringing a bell? It's this guy:

So, anyway... here's the details of my visit. First off... get there early. We got there at 11:30 and the line was already snaked around the building. For those that know the Capitol Hill area, Good Stuff Eatery is on the same block as The Tune Inn and the Hawk n' Dove... just next to the Cosi... 303 Pennsylvania Ave, SE, to be exact. And for those that like to indulge their pop-culture leanings... yes, Spike is there... on-site... live and in-person.

So, even though we got there early... we still waited about 20 minutes just to get in the door. Well, wait was worth it because the burger I got was Ridddicccky-iculously good... that's really all you need to know. Ya.. it was that good. Messy.. just the way a burger should be... piled with an artery-clogging load of bacon. The name of the burger I got was the "Big Stuff Bacon Meltdown"... sounds good, doesn't it. Anyway, you can view the rest of the menu here... check it out... it's worth the wait.