Remembering Lenny

Remembering Lenny

Today marks a year since we lost our beloved Lenny. Though I’ve likely forgotten an alarming chunk of the past year, I still painfully, vividly remember the events of that day and how he suddenly lost the desire to eat and the ability to move around without falling. After several hours at the vet, we found out the worst: that he had a large mass the size of a football in his belly, almost certainly cancer. The only other option was major surgery to remove the mass and his spleen, but at 12 ½ years old, it wasn’t something we could in good conscience put him through. Thus, the decision was made, albeit through many tears. I stayed with him and held him as he passed away, one last time taking in the corn-chippy smell of his paws and the feel of his callused nose. It was a crushing day for both Shelley and me, though we had known that it was coming due to his old age. The boys, thankfully, were a little young to really fully understand and thus be as distraught as their parents, and Shelley got them out of school so they could say goodbye. We took the day off work at that point, since I would describe myself as crying as frequently as Shelly Duvall in “The Shining.”

This was ALWAYS Lenny's reaction to food.

But all the tear-jerker stuff aside, there’s rarely a day that I don’t think about him. A good pet can change your life forever, and he did just that. He was Shelley’s best bud and companion when she up and moved to Portland, and was our first “kid” when we got together. He was a protector, friend, son, footwarmer, and more. When we were dating, I would have Lenny over for football Sundays, which consisted of us eating appetizers and drinking beer. Yes, Lenny liked beer, but no, I didn’t give it to him willingly. No more than a sip. He made us laugh and we always marveled at how damn smart he was. I had never had to spell words for an animal in order to avoid a reaction. Anyone who ever witness Lenny when you said the word “toad” or “cat” knows what I mean.

Other reflections:

• In the winter time, having Lenny in the bed was far better than any electric blanket, provided you could sleep through his drunken 60-year-old man snoring.
• He had a strange fear/excitement thing with toads. At the mere mention of the word, he would bark at the door and start looking around. He chase them, stick his nose to them, then jump two feet in the air when they jumped, then do it all over again. He rarely harmed them, though unfortunately for a couple he stepped on them (think of that snowman who captures Bugs Bunny… “I will name him ‘George’ and love him and pet him…”
• He loved food more than life itself. Every single day, he would dance, spin and jump as I walked to give him breakfast or dinner, often causing me to almost fall. When visiting my parents, he would “trick” us into a double breakfast, first waking up early with my dad, then nosing me a couple of hours later as if he was just getting up hungry.
• He loved odd foods for a dog, taking great delight in raw squash, cucumbers, and even pumpkin. Despite this, he was rigidly disciplined. You could have a plate of food on the coffee table, and while he would stare at it like Charles Manson and drool, he would not eat it.
• Exception: if he though you were “offering” him something. I’ll never forget Shelley taking him for a walk, stopping at a garage sale and being horrified when Lenny came up and snatched an elderly woman’s sandwich that she was hanging very low. Another time he did the same with a rack of ribs at a party, but again, he thought they were offering. Kind of like you have to invite the vampire into your home.
• Even so, he was such a gentle giant. When I had to give him pills, I would smear peanut butter on them, put it on the end of my thumb and he would take great pains to gingerly bite it.
• He loved water, and would jump in any body of water, at any time. He once jumped in that green, nasty pond at Overton Park when it was 10 degrees outside. He would also get in the kiddy pool with the boys.
• He loved to eat cat turds. I guess all dogs do, but Lenny’s dedication to the craft and uncanny ability to root out cat poo was as impressive as it was disgusting. If the Westminster Dog Show had a “Cat Turd” category, we would have buried Lenny in a bed of ribbons. As an added bonus would be the horror of knowing he wanted to lick you right after. NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO. Moving on…
• He hated anyone in a uniform, Halloween costume or knocking on the door. He would get mad at me for knocking on the door, even though he could see it was me.
• He had a thousand nicknames, due mainly to me. I started calling him “Lennis Bennis,” then shortened it to Bennis and that essentially became his second name. We would also refer to him as “Buffalo” for the sound he made when romping across the hardwood floor to greet us, as well as “Chunky Boy,” because well, he was kind of chunky. 
• He never was jealous once the kids came along, and patiently endured all the prodding, poking, etc. that comes with sharing space with toddlers. He also got a lot fatter, because babies drop a lot of food. 
• The older he got, the more he despised young, male dogs and the more he loved little female dogs. 
• My love of Lenny inspired about 10,000 song parodies in his honor. 
• He llllovvved going to my parents’ house in Cherokee Village. He would stand at the age of the woods, turn his nose up, and delight in the smells of the woods. It’s where we buried his ashes.
• He loved my parents’ cats, yet despised the many strays that populate Cooper Young. Thankfully for them, he was always too slow to catch up.

I could write a whole book about him, really, but that’s all for today. We have Ella now, and we adore her, but Lenny will always have a special spot in our hearts. Rest in Peace, Chunky Boy. We love and miss you so much.

An Ode to the Mini-Van

Goodbye mini-van. You were a big, bulky part of my life for the past few years and you served me well. Don't take this the wrong way, but 140,000+ miles, you were beginning to make some strange engine noises, which made me a little nervous. Still, I want you know to that I will miss you. I didn't know Oldsmobile Silhouettes existed until I met you.

I held my head up high when I would hear the snickers of friends when I pulled up in a mini-van I said I'd never own. We knew better, didn't we? You were practical, damn it, and who was I trying to impress at this point, anyway?

I appreciate the way you went from 0-60 MPH in five minutes, sometimes less.

I'll miss the way you kept me alert and guessing with your fluctuating gas gauge. I had to chuckle with prank admiration when I ran out of gas pulling into my work parking lot last month. You really got me with that one!

I'll miss the automatic side door. I've never had one of those before, and they're really cool.

I will miss the cassette deck. At those times when my inner mullet was on full display, I'd look through the collection of cassettes that Shelley keeps wanting me to get rid of, and maybe bust out some Vitamin Z and we'd jam together. I'm pretty sure I introduced you to Vitamin Z, unless former members of the band handed a sack of fast food to your previous owner.

I'll miss the luggage rack, despite the "coffin" jokes it inspired. When the boys were little and sleeping in pack & plays, requiring most of the house to be packed up for a road trip, and we had a dog the size of a small Pacific island, your packing space was essential. I'll miss the ability to spot you in any parking lot, anywhere, due to the luggage rack. I'll never forget the first time I parked you at the airport and upon my return, despite the grogginess induced by jumbo Sam Adams I enjoyed pre-flight ("sir, for just $2 more, you can get a 32-OUNCE BEER!"), it was effortless to find you.

I appreciate the way you stood your ground when that woman side-swiped me on North Parkway earlier this summer, then was mad at me because I "didn't see her blinker" as she attempted to have two objects occupy the same space at the same time. I'll be she won't try to bully a Silhouette again in her little compact car! Ha!

Not that we didn't have our issues. I know that I often cursed the pull-out seats in the back, mainly because they sucked. And those straps to "help" me pull out the seats both tore off within about a month of owning the car. I forgive you for that, and that front headlight that kept getting water in it and shorting out. You probably need someone to look at that.

Through it all, you were a trusted, necessary monstrosity, and I commend you. Goodbye mini-van.

18 Months of Colinisms and Lyndonisms

I love my kids, but I’m terrible at keeping up with this blog about them. We’ll see if I can do better, or if it will be yet another year and half before I do another. I make no promises.

Lyndon is now preparing to start kindergarten, an exciting yet depressing time for us as parents. I know he’ll do well, but just don’t want to that milestone to come just yet. He is as curious and inquisitive as ever, and is intensely interested in all types of animals. He frequently snatches up toads, snakes, cicadas, etc. Basically anything that creeps people out, he’s game. He still loves pizza, corndogs, White Castle cheeseburgers (no other type of burger), Pop Tarts and fruit. It was not my intent to feed my kids crap, it just happened. He did great at t-ball this year and really enjoyed it. I was a very proud daddy watching him hit the ball so well, and, more importantly, being a very well behaved kid and listening to his coach. He is growing to be a very creative kid, and enjoys drawing and music. For the latter, he and Colin are wearing out the new Cars album, to the point that I pretty can't listen to it any more. It's sad when you want your kids to like your music, then regret it when they want to hear 1,434 times in a row.

Colin continues to be a character in his own right. He has moved off of his obsession with eggs, and now is completely consumed with gum. Not just chewing it. Ownership, distribution, and just holding the pack, he’s all about gum. In fact, I believe he likes possessing gum more so than chewing it. He’s still quirky – still doesn’t like strawberries or cheese, but he’s much more adventurous than Lyndon in his willingness to eat food. He loves spaghetti and meatballs, apples, and carrots (with ranch…gotta start them on veggies somehow). And Cocoa Puffs. Every day with the Cocoa Puffs. He had his first swimming lessons this year and did well despite being scared. He still goes everywhere with his Blankie, Linus style.

And now, let’s review some of their great sayings from the past year:

Colinisms

" I am going to make cheeseburgers out of my boogies." – May 2011
Lyndon- "You cannot throw a baseball in the house. It's too hard." Colin - "You're naked, by the way."
"I don't want to get go, I want to eat chicken wings." February 2011 at the Super Bowl
"I want to get down so I can pester Lyndon." – January 2011
Yuletide Colinism, after sustaining minor injuries after falling on a nativity scene: "I fell on Baby Jejuss." – December 2010
“Poop don’t talk.” – November 2010
"Daddy, I dropped my gum." Me: "That's a rock." Colin: "Can I eat that rock?"
"I want a marshmallow." Me: "No, you get one." (he had already had one). Colin: "OK, one more" as he walked over and grabbed the bag
"Daddy, I am going to punch Lyndon.”
"It looks like a rectangle, but it's a Pop Tart."
Colin was in a video shoot for a commercial for MLGW. The director obviously isn't used to kids. He's giving my 2-year-old detailed instructions on what he wants him to do, and Colin looks up with a snot bubble in his nose and drool hanging from his chin and says, "YELLOWWWW."


Lyndonisms
"You know what would be cool...if we left the door open, and toads came in while I was asleep, and they got on my head." – July 2011
"I saved the seeds from the popcorn so we can plant it in the garden."
Me: "To grow corn?"
Lyndon: "No, popcorn." – June 2011
"Is fabulous gooder than awesome?" - May 2011
Lyndon while at the store: "AAAAAAAGGGGHH!"
Me: "What is it?"
Lyndon: "Nothing, I was just screaming for no reason." – May 2011

"I'm going to be a fireman when I grow up, but I'm still going to live with you." – April 2011
"I know how Michael Jackson died...he drank too much medicine."
“I’m going to punch Colin in the face nicely."
"Does your eardrum have drumsticks to bam on it?"
"I wish animals had to go to school every day and we didn't." – December 2010
"When I was a baby, in mommy's tummy, did I ever try to come out of her mouth when she talked?" – November 2010
"For animals, is every day the weekend?" – December 2010
Lyndon's Bible: The Lost Verses - "But Daddy, something HAPPENED in Bethlehem. There was a good Abominable Snowman and a bad droid was going to get Jesus, but the Snowman had to save him!" - December
"You know why I don't like 'Winnie the Poo?' Because it's called 'Winnie the Poo.'" – November 2010
"A tornado came, and it electric a building and the building fell on somebody and it gave him powers and he turned into a super hero called....THE BUZZARD! He is faster than anybody." – November 2010
"When Colin was a baby, I liked to smell his hair and then he growed up and I still smell his hair. Because I love to smell his hair."
“Colin is trying to vaccum me.” October 2010
While playing in the back yard, I turned over a rock telling them, “maybe we'll find bugs...or a treasure.” Lyndon: "Bugs ARE treasure." October 2010
Mom showed him fossils of a trilobite and said, "they lived millions of years ago." Lyndon: "Like when mommy and daddy got married?" August 2010
We sometimes recycle the boys' toys via yard sale or Goodwill, so Lyndon likes to talk about "selling" his toys). "You know what I want to sell...Colin's head." July 2010
Lyndon: "I haven't had a treat today." Me: "You ate two popsicles at the picnic." Lyndon: "They weren't treats when I ate them." July 2010
Tonight's Lyndonism: "Do people lay eggs?" I said, "Why yes, son, Peyton Manning did in the Super Bowl last year..."
"I just think that some spiders are Italian." June 2010
"Flies land on poop?" ("Yes, son.") "And they get their legs dirty?" ("Yes"). "How do they wash them off?" June 2010
"When is your hair coming back?" (to me, of course) May 2010
"If I kick your head off, you won't have a face?"– March 2010

The Whole World's Gone Fogsy

So, we had a dual birthday party for the boys at the end of January. We will keep combining the two until individualism, pre-teen angst and sibling rivalry dictates that we have two events for them. Birthday parties for toddlers are pretty much ridiculous. Ask the parent about the birthday party, and they’ll say something like, “Oh wow, it was wild. We had to get all these balloons, and then change the date, and then we had to get the cake and there were all these kids here and….” Ask the kid and they’ll likely say, “My friends came over. We played and ate cake. Look, a butterfly…” In other words, for us parents, it’s much ado about nothing. But you gotta do it.

This party was a superhero themed party and it was a big hit. Colin dressed like the Hulk and Lyndon, who HAD to have a Flash costume, was the Flash. By the way, this is the costume OFF-season and it will cost you about $40 for a kids’ Flash costume. But the boys loved it and their friends all came over dressed in various superhero costumes. The attire gave the kids a chance to trash the house with their super battles which included all sorts of weapons such as light sabers. So, essentially, what we’re telling kids is, “Violence is bad, unless you are dressed up in multi-colored tights with lightning bolts on them.” Works for me.

The party was unique in that it occurred right after an ice storm, so we went back and forth on postponing until we decided that everyone should risk life and limb to walk up our driveway, and many did. The only negative was that both boys had hard falls that resulted in an assortment of cut chins, lips and noses. On the plus side, it went well with the super hero theme and Lyndon was very proud of the blood on his Flash costume.

Latest Lyndonisms:
o At the bank, they decided to stop giving out lollipops to kids. I’m serious – you know the economy REALLY sucks when that happens. I liken this business decision to McDonalds playing hardball with ketchup bags, but then dumping $100 in Quarter Pounders in the dumpster every night. Anyway, when Lyndon heard the teller say that, he said, “That’s bad business.” He’s not cut out for finance – too much sense.
o Lately he’s been very interested in Norway and Vikings, which is pretty cool.
o When eating cereal, he always insists that I stir it up to make it “fogsy” (rather than soggy).

Colinisms:
o Colin is BIG into colors. Just as he was obsessed with numbers, he now goes around IDing colors at every turn.
o Colin is like a ninja in the middle of the night. He comes into our room, slides into bed with us without our knowledge, then POW – begins tossing, turning and kicking like Bruce Lee. It’s a great way to start your day at 3 am.

"Santa Claus Knows That You Did That?"

There are drawbacks to everything. Take utilizing Santa Claus as a behavior modifier. Hey, it works, and if you have kids, you know you've done it before, too. But I fear that I overused the old "Santa is watching" thing back in December. Mainly because earlier this week, it came back to bite me a bit. Lyndon has had a thing lately of challenging reality when he has meltdowns. I can't explain it any other way. Like he's say, "No we're NOT out of juice" despite the fact that I'm showing him the empty bottle. He just denies reality in these situations. Vikings fans probably did this last week, as well. At any rate, it's PRETTY ANNOYING, and the other night, he had an episode when something was wrong with pirate PJs. Except nothing was wrong and he kept muttering the same phrase until I felt I was locked in a cell in Guantanamo Bay or something. So, I snapped at him and left him to cool down a bit in his room (so I could do the same elsewhere in the house...and for those of you never raise your voices to your kids, I applaud you -- I am a work in progress). A few minutes later, we were both calm and I apologized to him before bed while strongly encouraging him to improve his behavior. The next morning he comes up to me and says, "You are sorry?" I said "Yes, I am." He follows up with, "Santa Claus knows that you did that?" Touche, my son.

Lyndon's quotables are really almost too prevalent to keep up with. The other night, he wanted to wrestle but instead decided to watch "Wall-E" with his brother. As time went on, he looks up at me says, "Daddy, I'm sorry we didn't fight tonight." When I warned Colin not to stay away from Lenny's poop in the backyard, Lyndon said, "When I was little, I walked near poop." He left out the walking barefoot to daycare for 50 miles each day, but I'm sure it's coming.

Colin continues to pick up the pace on his two-word phrases, including "go away," "show mommy/daddy," and "Meek blankie" (the milk/superhero blanket combo that is necessary for him to fall asleep). He continues to be very adept at identifying letters. He's also reaching that point where you begin to hope that maybe this will be the year he gets out of diapers, sparing a good chunk of change every month courtesy of Pampers. I could have a solid beer allowance with just the money we spend on diapers. Not to mention lessening my exposure to poop. I wonder if Sam Adams has ever thought of a diaper based marketing campaign?

Christmas Gift Duds

You know, for some reason, I was convinced that a Whack-A-Mole was a great gift for the boys. It just seems that every kid should have one, you know? And I had this picture in my mind of how the Whack-A-Mole works and the great fun the boys would have while pounding these defenseless creatures and every once in a while, each other.

But when I got the game out and put in two or four or 20 AA batteries in it, I found the moles didn't go back in the hole when you whack them. They just lit up and made stupid comments. Now, am I wrong, or has Whack-A-Mole gone soft on us? There should be repercussions for mole-whacking. The moles should cower and return to their holes and squeal in pain. Instead, this New Coke version of Whack-A-Mole has these critters chuckling at you and lighting up like a Christmas tree light.

Thus, it's no wonder that this is another in what will be a long list of Christmas gift duds. The kids have barely played with it, and who can blame them? I've tried to cheer them up by telling them that real moles would never light up and be glib about having the snot knocked out of them. And that really seems to cheer up the boys. What can I say -- I'm a great dad. And yeah, you can tell by the photo above how much fun the kids are having with Whack-A-Mole.

Other bad ideas this Christmas: any kind of flash cards, unless your kid is showing signs of having ESP. They end up under the couch, torn in half or wait for you to step on them on a hardwood floor, tearing your hamstring.

The Good: All Star Wars stuff has been met with feverish glee, though Lyndon's Captain Rex helmet is so absurdly big for him that he looks like the martian from Bugs Bunny when he has it on. No word on whether I can change the vocals to have him say, "I am getting very angry...very angry indeed!" The Leapfrog learning stuff has been great, too.

Updates, Milestones, and Days Gone By
Great Lyndon Quotes:
--After I admonished him for picking his nose at a wedding reception, he quit, then when we were leaving in the car afterward, asked, "Can I pick my nose now?"
--"When I was younger, I walked near poop."
--"If you leave the fridge door open, the food will go dying."
--"No one knows I'm a super hero."

Colin quotes (1st Edition):
He's saying a lot more words now, and starting to pair them up into sentences. The boys got pink eye this week, and Colin pronounced it, "Meek pie."

Lyndon still gets into a superhero costume about every day, and continue to play villain after villain as he defends the world against evil. Colin has begun to get in on the battle, but he loses interest pretty quickly.

I realize now that if I updated this thing more often, I'd have shorter posts. Funny how that works. I have a goal to do this weekly, but one time I also had a goal to be a professional fisherman. That's actually true.

We Never Did See That In A Long Time Ago

It seems truly unthinkable that I haven't posted since August, but life has a way of doing that. As I tell Shelley when she complains that she's always taking pictures and never IN them: there are people who make history and there are people who RECORD history. That always goes over well.

Anyway, life with the boys continues to be such an adventure. They routinely destroy the house. I mean, true demolition of all things in their path and no mercy shown. I never thought blowing several hundred dollars on a vacuum cleaner was a good idea until we had Lenny. Now that we have kids, too, it's essential.

Great Moments in Parental History
You can read all the books in the world, but nothing prepares for the real deal of parenthood. I have two great examples. Example 1: The other day, Colin walks up to me with a bunch of peanut butter on his hand...except...HE HADN'T EATEN ANY...aaaaaaagghhh! That's right, he had reached in the old mailbox (it was full) and pulled out a special delivery. Now, I know infant CPR, but this is a real challenge. Grabbing my dukey-handed son's wrist just right, as to avoid any contact with me, any part of Colin's body, furniture, electronics, you name it. Then it's handy wipes, soap, water, sanitizer, blowtorch. Why do kids do this? I thought we were the top of the food chain, but our dog, Lenny, acts like he's been maced when faced with his own poop, yet a human child -- ours no less -- grabs a handful. Go figure.

Example 2: We decided to go the anatomically correct route when Lyndon asked about his pee pee. It's science right, so no need to dodge it. Right? Well, I found myself second guessing that the other night when Lyndon stood on the couch fully exposed and yelling "PENISSSSS" at the top of his lungs. It was just family at the house at the time, but all the while my mind placed him somewhere like school or a party or a book reading doing this, and well, let's just say I am now on alert. But I laughed. I mean, come on, it's pretty funny coming from a kid. A 55-year-old wino on Beale St., not so much, but in this case, it's perfectly OK to laugh. On the flip side, maybe he wasn't ready for scientific names for body parts.

Lyndon
Lyndon is a talking machine now, always asking questions and wanting to understand stuff. He also gets some of his noun/verb agreement and tense all mixed up, which makes for some awesome quotes. I have begun to teach the boys about different countries before bed on most nights, telling them about the people, geography, food and wildlife of different countries around the world (Colin doesn't pretend to be interested, but Lyndon is). We've learned about Easter Island, Australia, Madagascar, New Zealand, Anarctica, Africa, Russia, China, Greece, Brazil, Chile, and others. After telling Lyndon one fact about Antarctica, he came up with the gem, "We never did see that in a long time ago." That's pure gold.

Colin
Colin is talking much more now and says all kinds of words other that than DATHS! although DATHS is still part of his occasional outbursts. However, we found out he's a little prodigy of sorts in that he has shocked us with his ability to recognize letters and numbers, as well as say them. He point point out and say most letters and numbers 1-10. It definitely puts heat on his 4-year-old brother, who doesn't know them nearly as well, but Lyndon is picking it up big time now. I am going to start Colin on quantum physics soon.

Lyndon's huge into dressing up in costume. Any costume. He went through costumes for Hulk, Iron Man, Spider Man (both the traditional and black costumes), and Mickey Mouse (he tried that out once, then gave it away...good call) before settling on Iron Man for Halloween. Colin ended up a turtle, Lyndon's old costume and the only one that could be put on him with minimal screaming and kicking. Baby Chewbacca was a disastrous costume attempt. They ended up trick or treating at only about four houses before Lyndon decided there were "too many kids." Colin meanwhile would ransack the candy buckets like a tasmanian devil who has eaten a box of No-Doz. All in all, they had fun, though.