A minor but bloody disaster for YaYa

After Ginger's birthday party we headed to Butler (WI) for a barbecue with Lisa's cousin and his family. It was a blast, and among other amusements her cousin hooked up a hose to the play set and made a makeshift water slide.







Can you see where this is going?

After a few successful slides YaYa went down headfirst, and either collided with a boy or had the boy fall on top of her. Either way, she emerged with a deep but small gash in her chin.

If she was a boy, we might have let it go. A few minor scars adds to a guys mojo, you know? But a young girl? No way. So for the second time in as many years she went to the hospital and had her chin stitched up. She even had the same doctor do the sewing. I stayed home with the little one's while Lisa and LuLu accompanied her to the ER. Later, at YaYa's urging, Lisa's Mom also went to the hospital, which of course was unnecessary (but appreciated).

Three stitches later, we took these pictures.







Never fear, all is well. The stitches are out and there is nary a sign of the injury.

Ginger's 2nd Birthday Party

It is a tradition in the Slapinions household to hold each child's 2nd birthday at McDonald's, and make it an Elmo themed party. We held to that for the 4th and final such celebration. This year we kept it small: as Ginger doesn't have any friends her age outside of relatives, only family was invited.

Two things: you'll notice Ginger's a bit banged up for her shindig. Blame my folks, who allowed LuLu to 'walk' with her while wearing rollerskates.



Second, I'm a mess at these things. Have the party at a public venue, with people going in and out and you'll find me doing head-counts of the kids until your head spins. Thankfully, Lisa keeps my Nutty McNutterson routine (mostly) in check at those moments. My apologies to anyone who caught a whiff of my stress that day :)



It was a rainy day, and dang near everyone was horribly late for the party. So for quite awhile my kids just enjoyed the atmosphere.








McDonald's put up a bit of stink about us bringing in a second cake for the adults, but in the end they gave the ok.





Happy Meals were served for all





Then it was time to parade around the restaurant with noisemakers and instruments. I'm not sure why McDonalds feels this is a good idea for the rest of their customers, but okey dokey.









Then we played horseshoes







Here's my Ma



and my Dad



my wife's step-father



our nephew





Lisa and our niece



the kids enjoyed the tunnels






and then it was time to sing Happy Birthday and enjoy some cake











Later we lit the second cake and did it again for the latecomers!





then came the presents





(this one's from us)







It was a fun time for the kids, and a smidge bittersweet, as this will be the last 2nd birthday for us until the grandkids start toddling about.



Hope you had fun at your party Ginger!

Quote of the Day

It's been a fun weekend. You wouldn't think so. I worked both days, I cut the grass, and Lisa and I tackled cleaning the fridge. But I repeat: it was still enjoyable. A large part of that was going AWOL from the computer. I scanned Facebook once in a blue moon, but never for more than a few minutes, and I didn't check my email at all.

Ahhhh. Peace.

It won't last. At Lisa's request, I'm going to briefly return to politics in the next few days and spell out my objections to nationalized health care. That should be fun, dontcha think?

Anyhow, I took the kids to church this weekend, the first Mass that was celebrated by a new priest at the congregation where I was married. During the Mass Smiley fidgeted, asked me questions at full volume, and did his best to drive me batty. Then, the kicker.

During the homily he looked over at me with mischief in his eyes, smiled his Danny/Devil smile, and tossed a missalette into the pew in front of us. I was on him in a nanosecond, and in response he explained himself using an 'outside voice' that could have been heard on the moon.

"JESUS BORING!"

Ugh. Sometimes kids are . . . well, sometimes they're just as frustrating as dealing with grown-ups.

Cash for Clunkers, Minnesota style

Joe Heller's work, as seen in the Green Bay Press Gazette.

Project Runway is Back! And (not) better than ever!

I worked last night but returned home to a heapin' helpin' of Project Runway on my DVR. The verdict? Well, I won't say they've jumped the shark, but I wasn't bowled over by this season's premiere.

"Welcome designers to FIDM, the premier fashion design school . . . in the city."

I caught your jab Mr. Gunn, and I'm with ya. It's a New York show. It just is. Moving it to L.A. makes it seem all the more artificial and forced, and Tim seems especially off-put.

Anyhow, it's a little early to write it off as a lame duck, and far too early to waste much time breaking down the contestants individually. I will say comment on a few of them that played major roles this week.

JOHNNY: Here's a new drinking game, one exclusive to PR. Every time this guy mentions his past addictions, uses it as an excuse to cry like a girl, or says a prayer to Crystal Meth for all the camera time it earns him, chug one down. I'm aware the judges claim to love his ill-fitting, droopy dress, but if they were serious it just means they were sharing the pipe too.

SHIRIN: I'm not even sure I have the right designer, but I *think* Shirin came up with that jacket that flipped down to integrate itself seamlessly with the back of the dress. Nice.

MALVIN: Hmmm. An egotistical adrogonyous designer with zero personality and ho-hum skills. Yuck.


ARI: Her design was crap. She was a flake. She had not a chance in hell of making it to Bryant Park. But I liked her as a contestant and would have enjoyed watching her for a bit more of the season. It's a shame she was sent packing so soon.

MITCHELL: Ladies and gentlemen, I think we have our villian. He presented an unwearable nightgowny piece and blamed it all on the model, saying her measurements differed from her card by five or six inches (depending on when in the program he was asked.) Dude. She's the size of my wrist. There aren't a spare six inches, or four, or two on the woman. If there was a difference, it was not what you advertise it to be, and frankly: even if it was, DEAL. He should have gone bye-bye.



* * * *

Now as for the show after it, "Model Runway", I'll pass. It was nothing more than a waste of my time and offered no insight into the design process. And darlin', can the "I have beauty and brains" bit: you are paid to be tall, and to be skinny. No shame in it, but kindly don't make it out to be rocket science.