"I have an existential map. It has ‘You are here’ written all over it."
- Steven Wright

"I cannot call to mind a single instance where I have been irreverent, except toward the things which were sacred to other people."
-  Mark Twain

“If you want to tell people the truth, make them laugh, otherwise they’ll kill you.”
- Oscar Wilde

“Some editors are failed writers, but so are most writers.”
- T. S. Eliot

"In dwelling, live close to the ground. In thinking, keep to the simple. In conflict, be fair and generous. In governing, don't try to control. In work, do what you enjoy. In family life, be completely present."
-Lao Tzu

My eldest - dear, sweet Harper - is attending her preschool orientation tomorrow. I'll be there too, obviously. I know it's the beginning of something amazing for her, but it's also the end of something pretty amazing for me. My little girl is growing up.

It is unbelievable to me that she is ready to start school. She'll be 4 in October, which is also a little surreal to think about. On the one hand, it seems like she's been with us forever, but on the other it seem like yesterday that I brought her home from the hospital. Preschool will be great for her though. She will love interacting with the other kids, and, the way her mind works, she will love soaking up all that information and learning "big kid stuff."

This first semester, she'll be attending only two days a week. We may make it three next semester if it is worthwhile and something she wants to do. We are going to get to ride in together in the mornings, which is how I grew up - riding to school with my Dad. While we are both excited about that part, the cruel shock of having to get up and get ready that early will become a regular source of contention, I'm sure.

Harper is a special kid, a great kid. She'll do great at school as long as she learns to keep that pretty little mouth shut. She'll make new friends, and she'll learn skills that she will use for the rest of her life. I'm happy to be her Daddy, and I hope she doesn't get too much smarter than me too quickly. I know I'm going to have to listen to that in years to come, but right now I just want her to learn while still admiring me. Yes, that would be very nice.

My wife says that one of the things she likes most about me is how easily impressed I am by almost anything. I must admit that this is true, to a point. You know that guy who just likes being sad, depressed, and terrible to be around? Well, I'm not that guy. I'm the other guy - the guy who really likes being happy. Because I like happiness so much, I sometimes get a little over excited about things that most people would find mediocre to just down right dull. Luckily for you, this post is not actually about my happiness OCD problem.

Last weekend I made the arduous drive - some eight teeth-pulling hours - to my hometown in Alabama. I took the wife, the little child, and the boxer dog. (The elder child was already there on sabbatical.) The occasion of my journey was the college graduation of my little sister, Bethany. Why, you ask? Bethany impresses me.

Bethany had this childhood dream of becoming fluent in German and working for the U.N. For a kid in middle school, that's fairly ambitious and quite detailed. She stuck with this dream, went to a college with a program that would perfectly fit her plan, and worked as hard as she could to make her plan work out. But just like me, when Bethany got to college she realized her dream wasn't exactly what she had envisioned. She could have given up, got a "husband degree," and moved on, but she didn't. 

Bethany decided she wanted to be a teacher. She transferred to the University of Alabama, and she got accepted into its elite Multiple Abilities Program (MAP). She applied herself; she did well; she helped others succeed. She studied abroad in South Africa for a semester; she applied for a job in our hometown school system; she got it. Her first class of students arrives in two days.

Last weekend, Bethany graduated summa cum laude, or for the English speakers, "with the highest honors." We've competed with each other for years in terms of who got a better grade or a better ACT score, but quite honestly, in this case, she bested her brother. I'm proud of her and for her. She will make an excellent teacher, and she will make a difference in the lives of the kids she comes in contact with everyday. I'm excited to see what all she can accomplish.

Congrats, Bethany.

A good friend informed me of an important fact the other day - a fact I had failed to perceive on my own. It's surprising that I didn't notice it myself. It's just the sort of thing I would normally notice and perhaps even point out to others.

The title of this wonderful site is based on the "See Spot Run" early reading books for kids. I love simplicity. There is something incredibly attractive to me about serenity in design and concepts that make obvious but insightful references to other concepts that create an impactful experience for those that interact with them. Basically, I love things completely unlike that last sentence.

So, back to the original point. My friend pointed out that, in the mind of the marginally disturbed, my site title could easily be mistaken as some extremely inappropriate, overtly sexually-themed material. I was immediately caught off guard because this simple notion hadn't occurred to me before. As soon as it sank in though, I had to contribute a chuckle. Let me say though, if you came here hoping to "see Eric go" in that sense, you are going to be sadly disappointed. This is a family site. My kids will (maybe, actually, no, not at all likely) read this some day. Do you think they want to see that? Man, I hope not. If they do, I've seriously screwed them up even more than I thought.

I love my site title. It is exactly what I want it to be, and it perfectly captures my intentions for what this site is and will be. Therefore, I will not be changing the title. Hopefully you'll still be just as interested in "seeing me go" in an above-board fashion. Enjoy watching, but please, don't stare.

Some parents sleep. We do not. In fact, we spend so much time awake that we might as well just not try sleeping at all. My wife and I have the privilege of raising two wonderful girls. However, one skill neither of them possess is the ability to enjoy a long meaningful sleep - meaningful to their young bodies and meaningful to their poor parents' sanity.

Like most things though, when you leave the kids alone, they seem to sleep just fine. They never sleep when you want them to, but they seem to have no problem sleeping on their own accord.  See incriminating evidence below.

Penelope sank into a comfy beanbag and had a little nappy-poo. Harper did the same exact thing the very next day.  

It would seem that there is a lesson to be learned here. There is always a lesson. Parenting is actually the best way to find out that you know nothing. It is a sure fire way to have any feelings of superiority yanked right out from under you. Children are smaller than us, not as smart or experienced, and less physically capable. Why is it that they can instantly make us feel so completely inept?

Like Little Boo Peep, who lost her sheep, if we leave them alone, we may just find that they end up doing what we wanted them to do in the first place. That's obviously not a hard and fast rule, but I've got to file this back in the folder for things Dad needs to think about on a regular basis.

Man, I'm tired.  Where's my beanbag.  I'm takin' a nap........