Tags Posts tagged with "Smurfling"


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Tomorrow is Duncan‘s first birthday. Yep, an entire year has gone by since that sweaty palm countdown finally ended.

Since he’s become pretty aware of things around him, like birds, bumble bees, and the neighborhood cats, we thought it’d be a good idea to take him to the zoo for his birthday.

Specifically, the Bronx Zoo.

So, while researching how much this excursion would set us back (since we’re a wee bit tight on cash right now), we noticed that the Bronx Zoo has a “pay-what-you-like” promotion on Wednesdays!

How about that? Perfect timing for a birthday!

Now, I’m not going to say that we’re going to walk in without paying a dime (I’m sure they guilt you into some sort of donation, you know, to save the rainforest or something) but it will certainly save us a few bucks.

Even better — the weather is supposed to be nice and sunny!

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    Infant US Passport PhotoOn Saturday morning, we loaded into the car and headed to our local post office to get Duncan his first passport.

    In this ludicrous “everyone is a terrorist” society that we live in, even a little guy who can’t even walk needs photo ID just to cross the border into Canada — a country he’s already a citizen of.

    Go figure.

    Anyway, having called our local post office on Friday to ensure that they were processing applications on Saturday, we were dismayed (outraged, actually) to see sign on the window stating that “We’re not doing passports today.”

    No further explanation.

    Great. Eighteen hours earlier we were told they’d be open. When we show up, they’re not. Nice.

    So we high-tailed it to another post office roughly 15 miles away — another BIG post office — in a predominently Puerto Rican neighborhood and thankfully arrived with 15 minutes to spare.

    It had a bit of a different crowd than we’re used to and we definitely stood out but, you know what, they were OPEN like they were supposed to be.

    The dreadfully-bored woman working in the “Passport” office was wearing sweatpants with writing on the back side. It didn’t seem very, I don’t know, official?

    It would have been funny if her butt said something like USPS or something but it didn’t… I don’t know what it said — her haunches weren’t exactly the type I wanted to take a second look at…

    Seriously though, a representative of the US Government can wear sweatpants to work? Really?

    Anyway, she was pleasant enough, I suppose, though she had that typical government employee attitude of “I don’t have time for you” even though you could tell she hadn’t really done any real work so far that day. You know what I’m talking about — it was like the DMV but on a federal level.

    Either way, she took the picture (I think it looks pretty cool in Jason Bourne sort of way) and took our money so I was content and mailed our application off.

    In the end, I had to write a check for $60 to the Department of State, which seems fair, and another $40 check to the US Postal Service for, well, I’m not really sure.

    Seems a bit hefty if you ask me…but what can you do?

    Now to get him a Canadian passport, you know, since he’s a double agent…

    I’ll keep you posted on how that goes…

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    Vienna Fingers & Grape FantaI’ve failed.

    Nearly 9 months in, 242 days to be exact, I have officially been (soundly) defeated by a soiled diaper.

    Yep, the smackdown took place yesterday morning as we were eating cookies and watching ice hockey highlights on television together on the couch.

    Sniff, sniff… Suddenly a waft of not-so-sweetness overtook the room.

    Eh, routine diaper change coming up. Or so I thought

    I quickly learned that this was not going to be a typical diaper change.

    Oh no, this was one for the ages…

    I’d guesstimate that Duncan has 3 or 4 blowouts per week so it’s not exactly an unusual occurance. Thankfully, though, 90% of them happen while he’s at school (which is what they call daycare these days), so it’s not usually *my* problem.

    With my wife in the shower, well, this one was all me.

    As is fumbled with the snaps holding his pajama-with-feet outfit together, it became apparent that I had a, um, mess on my hands. We’re talking “Global Thermonuclear War“… and a mess on my hands. Literally.

    Fighting a pair of kicking legs, I tried in earnest to control the, well, let’s just call it “insanity”.

    Doing my best to keep the, um, “insanity” contained, I used a few wipes here, a few wipes there, a clean diaper over there, and even a bit of his outfit to get it out from between his toes, you know the drill…

    I was doing pretty well, or so I thought, and then I coughed…

    I gagged.

    And then I heaved.

    I pressed on though. Had to complete the mission, you know?

    But then, holding the little guy’s lower end in the air by the ankles over an overflowing diaper with “insanity” smeared all over much of my free hand, my mouth suddenly filled with a mixture of Vienna Fingers and grape flavored Fanta.


    I’ve probably already “spilled” too much info here but I’m sure you get the gist of what happened next.

    Anyway, I’m still patting myself on the back for lasting 241 days longer than I ever thought I would.
    The Guilty Party...
    He looks guilty, doesn’t he?

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    Our hungry little indian.

    Pilgrim HatIt’s good to know that Duncan’s pre-school isn’t too worried about being politically correct and had all of the kids go all out in honor of good old Squanto.

    I didn’t see a single pilgrim hat…

    Happy Thanksgiving!

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    Duncan's hand turkey.
    So tonight when I picked up my son, who turns 6 months old tomorrow, from school, as we made our way through the hallway back out to the car, four people stopped to wish him a Happy Thanksgiving.

    By name.

    Granted, three of them *were* employees of the school but, still, it’s apparent that he makes an impression on people. I have no idea who the fourth woman was but apparently she knows my son, again, by name.

    That’s pretty cool considering I’m one of those people that thinks most babies look the same.

    I once had a math teacher in high school that thought my name was Jeff for the entire school year. Mr. Sopelak was his name.

    I’ll always wonder how I managed an A- in his class when, in his mind, Brainy Smurf never once attended one of his classes.

    Anyway, I thought of that today as I loaded Duncan into the car because it was Black Friday back in 1992 when my mom and I ran into Mr. Sopelak and his wife outside of a now defunct department store called G. Fox.

    The doors weren’t open yet and there were only a handful of people outside waiting for the store to open. Mr. Sopelak recognized me, came over, and had an impromptu parent-teacher conference with my mother to pass the time.

    He referred to me as “Jeff” repeatedly. Thankfully my mom, though confused, just went along with it.

    See, it wasn’t until that moment that I realized that my math teacher had absolutely no idea what my real name was.

    Sure, I should have noticed in class that when he’d call on “Jeff” to answer a question and no one would answer. And then I’d notice him staring at me as I silently stared back wondering why exactly he was looking at me. I guess I just thought he was, I dunno, weird.

    Either way, I never did respond well to “Jeff”. In fact, I still don’t.

    Over time, though, it almost became an inside joke in the classroom. He’d call on Jeff. I’d, as you’d expect, completely ignore him, the girls in the class would giggle, and then I’d kick in with an answer after like 20 seconds of awkward silence.

    In hindsight, it *was* pretty funny.

    The guy must’ve thought “Jeff” was a space cadet.

    Brainy, however, was worth an A-.

    Go figure?

    So, basically, I never made an impression and, based on tonight, I doubt that Duncan will have the same problem I did.

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      Smurfs in the toy box.

      It’s been, well, over 5 months since I last did a “Photo of the Week” and since I don’t really have anything on-topic to write about today, I figured I’d just go all Mommy-Blog…

      Today while cleaning Duncan’s room we decided to put him in the toy box too. And then take a picture.

      Exciting stuff, let me tell you, at the Smurf household…

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      So this morning we headed out on a daytrip to go and pick our pumpkin for 2009. We do this every year but this was the first time we’ve made the trip as a trio.

      First we took a hay ride…
      Hay ride to the pumpkin field.

      Then we roamed the fields…
      The Pumpkin Patch.

      And then we found the great pumpkin!
      Duncan and the Great Pumpkin.

      Weighing in at just over 16 pounds, he was less than $10… Such a deal.

      Can You Dig It?


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