Wife and I have been watching the Winter Olympics a lot lately, which has been a complicated process considering we don't have cable and TV antennae don't work well in a city of high buildings.
Olympic athletes are as diverse as their sports. Some Olympic events demand a life time of training in order for a participant to compete at the highest levels. Skiers and ice skaters in the Olympics have practiced for decades to hone their skills. Other events don't seem to require the same dedication. The skeleton and luge, for instance, seem to be events that anyone off the street could compete in. In the words of the great Jerry Seinfeld:
"The luge is the only Olympic event where you could have people competing
in it against their will, and it would look exactly the same. Take
people off the street, 'Hey, hey, hey, what is this?! I don't wanna be
in the luge!' Once you put that helmet on them, 'You're in the luge,
buddy!' 'aaaAAAaaaAAAaaaAAA...aaaAAAAA...' World record. Didn't even
wanna do it. I'd like to see that next Olympics, the Involuntary Luge."
Furthermore, it doesn't seem like any special training goes into preparing for the luge. You just need to be a reasonably fit person that likes sledding and looks good in Lycra.
Speaking of the sledding events, the skeleton is basically the luge where the person rolls over and goes backwards down the hill, right? Luge is feet forward, chest up. Skeleton is head forward, chest down. What about the other options?
I propose the following two new Olympic events:
Corpse - The "athlete" lies on the sled, chest up, head forward, and pulls himself down the hill by clawing at the sides of the track.
Sleep - The "athlete" lies on the sled, chest down, feet forward and someone pushes him down the hill.
Saturday, February 15, 2014
Sleepy Sprints
Now that we have two kids sleeping in the same room, we're justifiably scared to death that one of them will awake in the night crying, and that he will in turn wake up his brother. So at the first feeble cry of either child, one of us (usually me) runs into the bedroom as fast as possible to calm the storm in its infancy. I don't know if you've ever gone from dead asleep to running full speed in less than a second, but after a while it messes with you.
Wednesday, February 5, 2014
Super Bowl Child Naming Rights
As you may or may not remember, my wife has a slight problem with the Super Bowl, so I usually find somewhere else to watch it. Last year my super bowl viewing plans fell through and at the last minute I was forced to strike a deal with the devil. My wife was pregnant with our second child at the time, and I traded her the baby's naming rights for the opportunity to watch the game guilt-free in my own home. She had a name that she really liked, and though I wasn't crazy about it, I hadn't been able to think of anything better.
So that's the story I get to tell when anyone asks how baby #2 got his name. It was well worth it - last year's Super Bowl was a great game.
So that's the story I get to tell when anyone asks how baby #2 got his name. It was well worth it - last year's Super Bowl was a great game.
A Christmas Miracle
We traveled to Utah for an extended Christmas break and while there, our youngest son slept in a Pack 'n Play in a closet. As young children are wont to do, he sometimes wakes up in the night screaming for parental assistance and we play the "stick-the-pacifier-in-his-mouth-as-quickly-as-possible" game. If we get the pacifier in promptly, he will sometimes fall back asleep.
The difficulty of this game is compounded when the child is sleeping in a dark closet and any illumination at all will convert a weary babe to a wary brat. So we're leaning over this Pack 'n Play in an unlit walk-in, rummaging through the blankets, stuffed animals, and pillows (that we DON'T let him sleep with (supposedly that's dangerous) but older brother thinks he needs so he puts them in when we're not looking) in hopes that somehow our seeking fingers will brush against the hard plastic of the only accessory on earth that will soothe the infernal beast. This often takes some time and on occasion we've given up entirely when we can tell by the pitch of his cry, that he has passed the point of no return.
As it happened, we stayed up far too late Christmas Eve playing Santa and watching The Santa Clause (one of the great Christmas movies), and upon retiring to bed and drifting off to sleep, we heard it. The cry. I stumbled into his closet and with all the faith I could muster, plunged my right hand into the cloud of coverings, and behold, there was the comforting feel of freedom. I had grasped the pacifier on my first try. It was a Christmas miracle. I inserted the rubber nipple in his mouth and returned to my wife, my hope restored.
What's that you say? Bring an extra pacifier with us when we go in to assist him?
Where's the fun in that?
The difficulty of this game is compounded when the child is sleeping in a dark closet and any illumination at all will convert a weary babe to a wary brat. So we're leaning over this Pack 'n Play in an unlit walk-in, rummaging through the blankets, stuffed animals, and pillows (that we DON'T let him sleep with (supposedly that's dangerous) but older brother thinks he needs so he puts them in when we're not looking) in hopes that somehow our seeking fingers will brush against the hard plastic of the only accessory on earth that will soothe the infernal beast. This often takes some time and on occasion we've given up entirely when we can tell by the pitch of his cry, that he has passed the point of no return.
As it happened, we stayed up far too late Christmas Eve playing Santa and watching The Santa Clause (one of the great Christmas movies), and upon retiring to bed and drifting off to sleep, we heard it. The cry. I stumbled into his closet and with all the faith I could muster, plunged my right hand into the cloud of coverings, and behold, there was the comforting feel of freedom. I had grasped the pacifier on my first try. It was a Christmas miracle. I inserted the rubber nipple in his mouth and returned to my wife, my hope restored.
What's that you say? Bring an extra pacifier with us when we go in to assist him?
Where's the fun in that?
Monday, February 3, 2014
Naked Jews Singing?
I was at the TKTS booth in Brooklyn the other day and as I waited in line, I looked at the ticket offerings. Two lines caught my eye: "Old Jews Telling Jokes" and "Naked Boys Singing."
Thankfully they are different shows.
Thankfully they are different shows.
Sunday, February 2, 2014
A Hostage Situation
As parents we try to teach our children (yes, there are two now) good habits and behavior. We try to get them on regular eating/feeding schedules and limit television time. We dissuade them from sleeping in our bed and encourage them to self-soothe and fall asleep on their own (within reason).
All that goes out the window when our kids wake up in the middle of the night screaming. At that point they are terrorists, holding our night's sleep hostage, and we are willing to give them anything to get it back. All those good habits we've spent months instilling in them go out the window.
Hungry? Sure. We'll feed you anything. You want to fall asleep on my lap in front of infomercials at 2 AM? No problem - as long as you get back to sleep. You want to sleep in mommy and daddy's room? Sure - Assume the position:
All that goes out the window when our kids wake up in the middle of the night screaming. At that point they are terrorists, holding our night's sleep hostage, and we are willing to give them anything to get it back. All those good habits we've spent months instilling in them go out the window.
Hungry? Sure. We'll feed you anything. You want to fall asleep on my lap in front of infomercials at 2 AM? No problem - as long as you get back to sleep. You want to sleep in mommy and daddy's room? Sure - Assume the position:
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