So it's like this...

You may have noticed by now that I am not posting as often. I wish that I was, but the fact is when my choices are spend time with my kid, sleep, or write a blog that I am fairly sure no one is reading I tend to choose a or b.

Cruz is now 7 weeks old. I recently spoke with two old friends that asked what parenthood is like. The only way I can describe it is as follows.

Sometimes the little dude is pissed and you can't figure out why. You bounce, sway, sing, put in a chair or crib, and whatever else you can think of. It's frustrating as all hell and baby cries are kind of like waterboarding. Then the one thing you do works. You look down and see the baby go content and smile, or just close thier eyes. Your heart melts and whatever frustration there was just goes away. You realize that there is nothing more important than that baby, that moment, that amazing feeling that is being a good parent.

I have never enjoyed so much or felt as rewarded as I do around our son. He's the coolest ever. It's not just him. Looking at the impact he has had on me as a person is amazing. I think I might end up being a decent person after all. I look at my brother and see this guy that used to beat on me and see one of my best friends laying on his back trying to entertain the person spitting up on him. He's an outstanding uncle, and Cruz is lucky enough to have 3 uncles that are that way. And the grandparents... Forget about it. It's so cool to see all of them finally get to be the grandparents they have always wanted to be.

But the best is my wife. She has always been the best part of me, and that continues now. I love that woman beyond words. It has been so amazing watching her go from being a wife and friend, to being a mom. Some people just excel at certain things, and she is amazing in this new roll. I am so lucky to have her for a spouse, and Cruz is such a lucky little shit to have her as a mom. What a wonderful, amazing, patient, and caring mom she is.

So I am sorry that the posts aren't as often, and probably won't be as funny. Except that I am not sorry at all. I have diapers to change and a little dude to entertain. It's a great life.

It's Bigger Than That

Ever since you came home from the hospital our time has been full. Your mom wants to do some decorating when I get home, we both want to eat, and somewhere in between we have to figure out how the hell to be good parents as well. That picutre above is of a guy that got me here, and has tried to teach me a thing or two about being a good dad. His advice was, "Just love 'em as much as you can."

Pure. Simple. Ray J logic. You don't require a doctor's knowledge or a grandma's touch. You just need to know that you are safe, dry, warm, and cared for. As many "lamby chairs, and swings," self image books or whatever else the new craze is.... a baby just wants to be taken care of. It's humbling and so reassuring in the same stroke. A baby doesn't care for it's surroundings as long as someone will bounce and hum a tune. It doesn't even matter if the tune is good. I know this for a fact because my Grandma J was an angel in my mind and her voice was like a canary and cement mixer getting run over by an ugly truck. She never met a tune she couldn't kill. She was a melody assassin. I gaurantee she would agree.

It's the big things we make to big, and when we do we miss the big truths, that it's the simple things with the smallest people that make the biggest impact. I just hope you can slow down enough to see it.

Can't We All Just Get Along?

Not everyone was on board when you came home. For the last 4 years Jade has been my little friend. We watched football together, took naps together, and spent countless hours hanging out on the couch in the basement. You have really cut into her time.
For the first week or two you were home she just hid from you. She wanted nothing to do with you and if at all possible she made sure they she was in a different room from you. She even tried to interview replacements for me, but alas they could not run a door handle. So outside they had to stay.

Eventually she realized that if she was to get the attention she desired she would have to come closer.
We aren't exactly there yet, but we are getting closer all the time.

Happens All The Time

Many times when I am out on the street people will stop me and say, "Hey! Aren't you the author of the smash hit blog, LessonsForMyKid.blogspot.com?"

"Yes I am, Sir or Madam," because I like to keep it formal with my readers, "I am, but can you really call me the author when the material practically writes itself?" Then we share a laugh and a tumbler of fine scotch. This can get awkward sometimes, because I don't carry scotch with me and sometimes the fine folks at the grocery store look like they want to press charges again. It's all part of the gig I guess.

So what is the point of this post? Humility.

Kill 'Em All

I can't believe you are this young and I have already failed you so miserably. Your first Halloween has come and gone and yet you have no idea how to kill the majority of monsters. This is especially important on Halloween since you never know who's an innocent child with a mask, and who is a bloodthirsty monster. What follows is a handy, but not comprehensive list of monster killers.

Vampires- Vampires are so chic right now. There are a few TV shows and approximately eleventy billion movies and books on the subject. Killing vampires is best handled with a wooden stake to the heart or exposure to sunlight. Now the easiest way to kill a vampire movie would be by adding a plot or storyline but that is not the point.

Zombies- Zombies are the undead returned to extract vengeance on the living and recruit more of the living to the ranks. They mostly just wander around looking for humans to bite and are generally more of a power in numbers than a real mental force. They are kind of like a bar crowd in a college town after the bars close. It appears the best way to eliminate a zombie threat would be fire, shotguns, or nuclear weapons. The nuclear weapons could potentially have the downside of long term infertility, and ya know... death.

Hairy Monsters- I asked your mom which monsters she thought I should cover and she said, "Umm, Monsters... ya know... hairy monsters..." So I guess I would suggest a razor and some Nair. Thanks honey.

Wizards- Wizards are a tough one to deal with. On one hand I would suggest that you look for the guy with a lightening mark on his forehead, and on the other hand I would suggest that you make sure that the wizard you are battling can't possess the One Ring. It really depends what time of life you discovered your dorkiness. Either way the best way to kill a wizard is a wizard duel. Look it up, it's a fact. Potter vs. Voldemort, Gandolf the White vs. Sauramon the Black... (Fun fact! Sauramon the Black was a white guy and Gandolf the White was grey.) It's science! This won't be real handy info unless you are a wizard. So yeah.. sorry about that.

Democrats- Now you can't really go around killing Democrats. It is illegal and and immoral. What you can do however is kill a Democrat's career and party power. The best way to do so is to sit back and let them do it themselves by ignoring the will of the voters and passing Health Care Bills and expanding the federal government far more than any rational individual would ever want.

The last time that the government was this successful in pissing off the common voter they decided that prohibition was a good idea. By listening to a small sect of influentials citing highly ideological mumbojumbo they came to the realization that booze was the root of all evil and that to preserve the union the spirits must go. Now if you had a headache from celebrating that last night of legal drinking you could try to dull the pain with a bit of opium that was perfectly fine. The upside to prohibition was realized immediately. New jobs were created everywhere now that men didn't have hangovers to fight off. For example there were bootleggers, still operators, moonshiners, and all the organized crime to make sure it was administered smoothly.

Now obviously I am not trying to say that Obamacare and Prohibition are similar. Not at all. Prohibition created jobs. That is something the current administration has proven to be very adept at avoiding.

So there it is, a handy Monster Self Protection Guide. Happy Halloween.

Legit Parents

I think we are official parents tonight. We had a meeting for Cruz's baptism tonight so we tried to feed him a little extra to get him to sleep a bit longer. Naturally that didn't work so in a room with 7 other couples and their children, the children's staff, and the 15 members of the leadership team for the church Cruz starting crying... during the prayer... after he got done burping. Somewhere around Amen he started crying. During the prayer I am trying to jam a pacifier in his mouth while his head is jerking around like the Exorsist and I think I managed to get the pacifier in his ear, nose, chin, and maybe even his mouth once. Tonight I will pray on the correct way to handle that situation, because I am pretty sure that keeping your eyes closed and mind focused doesn't go well with trying to get the pacifier in a moving target.

We were a bit run down from the night before when Cruz stayed up pooping and crying so we decided to do a nice supper out. As I screamed my order into the driveup menu at McDonalds the kind woman asked me over and over what I had asked for since she couldn't understand over Cruz's uncontrollable wailing. (Fun side note: A 6 piece McNugget meal is now a kids meal. I know this because I got a toy tonight and the little Fry sack instead of the fry box. This is why our country is fat. I am going to come back to this some time.) So Ash hopped out of the car to try to comfort Cruz as I argued with the menu and I started to pull away, but I didn't know this because I was trying to get my Hi-C orange with a barbecue sauce pack. So I almost killed her as I pulled ahead to window two.

So over all it was one of those nights. It's a good thing that the little dude is so damn cute...

Happy Halloween

Told Ya So

Brett Favre has two broken bones in his ankle, a sex scandel, and might miss his first start since 1970 when he started his Iron Man steak of 291 consecutive starts.

Who could have ever seen this coming?

http://lessonsformykid.blogspot.com/2010/08/dont-anger-football-gods.html

Your Wife Will be a Mother

The woman you marry will be the single most important decision you make in your entire lifetime. I can't imagine any other choice I have made, or had made for me that has had such an impact. I chose well, and lucky for you we are fertile as spring time bunnies.

I am not going to try to put it into words, but your mom holds many important roles in my life. My rock, my best friend, my lover, my wife, and now the mother of my child. She's great at all those other titles, but man are you lucky she is your mom. She loves you beyond comprehension and she is just the greatest mom ever, and you get to call her your own.

You lucky little shit.

Lessons Learned Part 2

Another week and more lessons learned for a new dad. We had our two week check up today and the little porker has put on 11 ounces in the last week. That is crazy! This kid is obviously getting enough milk, and perhaps even an occasional McDonalds run while mom and I are asleep. Let's not waste time getting to more of this hot learning action.

Respect the feeding schedule.- When I have gone to visit family and friends who had recently had children I would call ahead and tell them when I would be there. Then I would try to get there fairly close to that time. Never again.

Now that I am a dad, and I have a wife that is trying to feed a kid on a schedule I am crazy protective of my wife and our child's feeding schedule. You only have a short precious time between feedings, and you can typically plan that time around when visitors are coming.

But then some wiseass shows up 15 minutes early and mom is feeding, or shows up 45 minutes late and the whole feeding schedule is screwed. Never again will I screw with new parents like that. If I do, I will make sure I have a casserole or hot dish to make up for it. There is nothing like easily prepared food to buy back a new parents favor.

I talked to my buddy Fid about this. Him and his wife Niki just had a little girl recently and we discussed the righteous anger we can develop over a 15 minute swing in schedule. 3 weeks ago I would hav never thought of it. Crazy how things change.

There is nothing like the first time your child smiles at you.- It's heartwarming. The other night Cruz looked up at Ash and I and smiled huge. It was adorable and made us feel great. Then he went cross eyed and stared at some random point on the wall while he peed himself. But I am pretty sure we had a moment first.

Be Aware of Your Surroundings

There is a good chance Gabe was pooping in this picture.

There is nothing as calming and sweet as holding your child. There is something so pure and perfect about holding that warm little baby against your chest, smelling that baby skin smell, and just relaxing amazed at the little life that you helped create. It's perfect, and there is nothing better.

Then he farts. Not a little squeaker, but rather the kind of fart that rumbles pictures off the wall and shatters that image of a perfect little person. There is no denying what has happened, and everyone in the room nearly gets whiplash when they hear the sound. I have to admit I am quite impressed.

Twice now you have caught me feeling optimistic. Twice you have proven that the fine folks at Pampers have no counter for the little Shit Cannon, Cruz. OH MY GOD. I changed the diaper, I changed the onesie, I wiped the legs and back clean. I thought we were good. We went back to the couch and rocked you back to sleep. All was good again.

Until the next day when my wife held up the blanket we were cuddling under. Until she moved the pillow I was using to prop up my arm. The blankets (yes, you got me twice) had something regarding giant inkblots (that were not ink) covering a two foot section. Maybe even more.

So beware of your surroundings in life son. You never know when you bad shit's right around the corner.

Umbilical Cord Stank

Last night Stinky McRottensausage lost his umbilical cord. Thank God. It turns out that an umbilical cord has about a two week shelf life when it comes to hanging on, and about 2 days before falling off it smells like roadkill. There was a short time in young Cruz's life when making a little babyhouse outside seemed like a very viable option.

I cut my son's umbilical cord when he came out, and from that day forward it shrunk and blackened day by day. By the way, they need to sharpen those scissors. That was disturbing. The cord started off as the consistency of raw sausage and ended up looking like... well... beef jerky paper. Shrively, disgusting little beef jerkey paper.

As I stood over my child's stomach yesterday making a retching motion and spraying pretend puke over him my wife reminded me that it wasn't his fault that his cord smelled. So I am pretty sure she must have rubbed a dead squirrel on it. It was awful. I threatened to spray him down with cologne to make him more bearable to be around. It was a nasty trap he laid. One second you look at him and see this beautiful little child that has stolen your heart, and then you lean over to pick him up and almost immediately pass out. Awful.

By a small act of our glorious Lord that cord finally fell off last night. My wife was so excited she woke me up at 3 AM to tell me, and I was so happy I didn't even care she had woke me up. Today when I told my cousin he asked if we had thrown it away. That is such a stupid question that I hope Ash didn't, and then he will get that in his Christmas present this year.

So the lesson here is... um.... don't ask stupid questions about umbilical cords and you won't get them for Christmas.

Funny Kid

I have a feeling that Cruz is going to be a funny kid, or at least have one hell of a sense of timing.

Saturday Ashley gave Cruz a bath, and he gave her a shower. We were mid-diaper change during his bath (can't submerge him yet due to the circumcision) so as I walked the dirty diaper to the trash I heard Ashley shriek and spun around in time to see a beautiful pee arc glistening in the light coming through the kitchen window.

Tonight as I gloated to myself about helping Cruz get rid of hiccups the gas moved South. Gone were the unsettled little hiccups and replacing them was a stomach gurgling, colon cleansing power shat. He had this crazy serious look on his face until it was done, and then fell asleep.

This kid makes me laugh already.

Political Ad Season

The only thing I hate more than clowns who vote Democrat and wear Minnesota Vikings apparel is political ads. I hate equally Democrat ads, Republican ads, and ads paid for by political activists groups with fun sounding names like Iowans for the Truth. Sounds great right? I am an Iowan, I want the truth. Too bad. It'd be like finding out that this blog had won the Best Blog of All Time 2010 Award, and then find out the impartial voters were me, me voting on your behalf, and Jade the cat.

The claims these ads make are just big bold bullet points in place to scare the masses. One candidate is pro "Big Oil", one is voting to kill "Main Street in favor of Wall Street", and the other wants to ship jobs overseas and free the rapists. If there is a "Big Oil," there must be a "Small Oil" to compare them to. I don't know much about them, but I am pulling for "Small Oil" even though they are obviously slimy. This whole Main Street vs. Wall Street has been all the rage this year with the stock market collapse. It's a great way to take a hugely complex issue and boil it down to a simple idea they can politicize. Here's the thing, you can't effect one without effecting the other. You can't be "tough on Wall Street" without it directly effecting "Main Street." It sure is handy though when you want to make a point without all those burdensome facts though.

A fun twist here lately is that they have to attribute their claims to a vote or an article. So now at the bottom of the screen you can see little notes reflecting that, never mind that politicians like to slam 400 unrelated things into a single bill. So a bill that they say "slashes veteran's benefits" may have also include "rape funding." They can also take one line out of an entire article and take it out of context to mean what ever they want. For example, you could take from this line "ship jobs overseas and free the rapists," from earlier in the post and infer that I think we should do those very things. You can even put it in quotation marks and make it look legit.

I hate politics, and I hate the fact that the commercials are all negative and attacking. Very few people are advertising what they have done or believe in, but rather that their opponent supports giving cancer aids to school children and encouraging Mexican drug cartels to move into town.

Politics suck, and you can't trust politicians. The even worse news? The laws they pass will effect you no matter if you vote or not. So pick the candidate that seems less awful and pray they won't screw things up too bad.

Oh, and set the DVR so you can skip all the commercials and hope the eventually go back to public speeches.

That Which Does Not Kill Us

As Cruz and I watched the Bears game on Sunday I explained a few of the finer parts of being Bears fans to my son. At one point, he asked me why the Bears offensive line wouldn't block for Jay Cutler. At least I think that is what that look meant. Maybe I am overestimating his cognitive abilities.

So I explained to him, "That which does not kill us can only make us stronger." By virtue of this line of thinking I am expecting Jay Cutler to turn into the Incredible Hulk and kill everyone in the NFC because the way he is getting hit he surely is close to being killed and in turn stronger... and stronger... and concussioneder.....

All in all I think Cruz was teaching me a few lessons. He was awake for the Bears first touchdown, fell asleep while they were in the lead, and only opened his eyes for the punt return for a touchdown. The rest of the game was nappy time for the little dude. I like his style.

Lessons Learned Part One

Just a few short days down and I am already learning so much about being a parent. Sure there's the stuff about selflessness, caring for others, and so on. I will leave them for someone else because I have some important findings I need to report on. I have a feeling that there will be many more lessons along the way, so let's call this our first reoccurring feature.

Breast Milk- Breast milk is for babies what red wine is for adults. Just a couple servings and all you want is to be wrapped up so tight you can't move, and be sang too in hushed tones while trapped in a room with walls just tall enough that you can't escape. Isn't that why you drink red wine?

It's crazy how breast milk can calm a screaming baby beast in seconds, and leave a zombie in it's place. I am thinking that we should get a group of new mothers together and ship them to Washington DC while we have the Middle East peace talks going. Serve a couple of glasses with supper and the Isralis and Pakastanis will be more than happy to agree to get along. It's crazy stuff from what I have seen. Baby Milk Drunk is a sight to behold.

Baby Socks- Baby socks exist for one reason, and that is because mothers think they are cute. They stay on a baby's foot for approximately five seconds per wearing and after one quick trip to the mall we are officially down one sock. One trip out of the house, and one sock down already. That's after I put that sock back on twice and the other sock was hanging half off by the time we got home. My wife says that they are to keep the childs feet warm but that is obviously a lie perpetuated by the baby sock manufacturers. They can't keep feet warm while they are never on the child's feet.

Swamp People on Demand- I did know that I could get HBO shows OnDemand. I have always enjoyed this thoroughly. I found out at 2 AM the other night that I could also get shows from History Channel, Discovery, and select NBC shows as well. So there Cruz and I sat at 2 AM as we drifted in and out of conciousness watching Swamp People. It just felt so right.

Here's a pic of my kid for no reason other than he is so damn cute.

FREEDOM!!

October 12th, 2010. The day the dude finally decided to join our family. Cruz Bennett Jorgensen weighed in at 8.04 ounces and 21.5 inches.

According to a recent poll of me, Cruz was elected the coolest kid of ever.

On the night of October 11th I took Ashley our to Bourbon Street, a nice resturaunt in town to have a little "Last Supper." As soon as we had ordered our appetizer Ashley shot me a weird look and said, "I just had a contraction." We skipped the main course and headed home so she could have a bit more privacy. By the end of the night however, the contractions had stopped. So with a false alarm logged, we went to bed.

At 3:30 AM I woke up to Ashley saying, "Beau, I'm in labor but I want to shower and eat before we go to the hospital. So go back to sleep." That obviously didn't happen. I loaded everything up in the car while she showered. Then she got out of the shower and asked where all of her stuff was. So I unpacked the car. We then argued about when to go to the hospital for the next couple of hours. Ash wanted to stay home for awhile, and I wanted to get there as fast as possible. She like the idea of not being in the hospital all day, and I was deathly afraid of delivering the child on the kitchen floor. "Ash" I said, "they have doctors and drugs there. Let's go!"

We finally got there, walked alot, found the coffee, and even ate a few popsicles. I talked Ash into taking the epidural finally. She was planning on taking it, just once again I wanted to error on the side of early. Then all the labor stuff hit. Here's a synopsis.

This will take awhile. How dialated? Really? Oh hi Dr. Hines! Serious? Should I call my mom? Oh my god. PUSH! I am not looking, ok I will peek. Ohmygod. PUSH. We're parents! These scissors are too dull to be cutting this. Are you ok? I can't believe he's here. HOLY SHIT I'M A DAD.

I'm a dad. I'm a dad and it's awesome. We got home the yesterday after 2 days in the hospital staffed with some of the nicest and most caring women in the world. We can't imagine being taken care of any better. I will get back to the sarcasm and dick jokes soon, but right now I have a little dude squirming on the floor that could use to cuddle.

White Sox Fans

All of my favorite teams are from Chicago. The Cubs, Bears, and I suppose the Bulls and Black Hawks although I really don't follow basketball or hockey. So naturally I have always had a soft spot for the White Sox. My uncle took me to a game at their stadium the year that it opened and it was one of the first MLB games I ever went to. In fact I went to that game probably a decade before I made it to Wrigley.

The only thing is, I hate the White Sox. Their manager is crazy, their GM seems like an asshole, and their fans are all drug dealers, hookers, or Barrack Obama. So I can't tell you how happy the above picture makes me. This is a a tattoo that a White Sox fan recently got on her thigh. Then she sued the tattoo shop and let the Chicago Sun Times write an article about it. This should teach you a few things.

1. This is the type of person that you will associate with should you become a White Sox fan.

2. Don't get tattoos. If you must, please double check the tattoo before you have them start applying the ink. It's rather permanent. Have someone, other than the tattoo parlor workers take a peek. Preferably have me take a look at it. Not only will I check the orientation, I will also tell you that you are an idiot for getting a White Sox tattoo.

3. If this happens to you, don't let anyone look directly at the tattoo. Only let people look at in the mirror. Yes, this will mean that you have to carry a mirror with you at all times, but I am not the idiot with the backwards tattoo now am I?

Inducing Labor

Well here we are on your due date, and you know what’s missing? You. We know where you are, we just don't know how to get you to come out. For the record, I do not support your procrastination. This is our first little “Do as I say, not as I do,” moment.

Since your mother must have a very comfortable uterus we found ourselves looking at her pregnancy book at ways to naturally induce labor. They range from “easy to do” all the way to “oh God no.” We have tried the spicy food, walking, and your mom even did a few jumping jacks. Upon reading that book I got a bit more insight into how awful a woman must feel at the end of a pregnancy. Here are a few of the other labor inducing options.

“Nipple stimulation”- I thought this one sounded nice. Then I read the description. Apparently using this method a woman should “tweak and twist” her nipples for a few hours a day. A FEW HOURS A DAY. In middle school people used to use this method to induce terror and pain. We called it a “titty twister” or “purple nurple” and it hurts like hell. I am not sure if I am supposed to throw your mother in the locker or give her a swirly when she is done or not. So basically, if a woman gives herself a titty twister a few hours a day it MIGHT induce labor. This is a like a part time job of self terror.

“Stripping the membrane” – I am going to save you the details on that one, but isn’t the name terrifying? I don’t care if this is done by a Dr. It scares the holy hell out of me by name alone. I would rather have someone threaten to kill me than threaten to strip my membrane and I don’t think that is even an option.

“ Castor oil”- If a woman takes a shot of castor oil it may cause labor to begin. That doesn’t sound too bad, other than the fact that castor oil will cause vomiting and diarrhea and it tastes awful. So as long as you don’t mind throwing up everywhere and pooping your mind out castor oil could possibly get you going. How does the castor oil industry market itself? I can’t imagine a billboard for a magic elixir that causes this kind of reaction. Actually, I could, and it would feature Mike Rowe as the spokesmen. I might be on to something here.

Being pregnant must be awful in the last few weeks. After all, women will give themselves titty twisters while shooting castor oil just to go into labor…. which in itself if terrifying. This is why women are in charge of bearing children. I am pretty sure C-Section rates would go way up if men had to deliver.

I think maybe when we get home tonight I might try one of my own ideas. I am thinking that if I just rub your mom's belly with bacon grease and pulled pork you will be able to sense that something wonderful is just out of your grasp. This should lure you into coming out to meet us, or meat us depending on your preference. This sounds so much better than all that sciency crap.

So please, before I have to give your mom a swirly and throw her in a locker, please join us.

I Am One Of Them.

When you are young you think everyone who is older than you is old. When you are a child, teenagers are cool because they are old, and everyone older than that is lame. Then when you are a teenager you will think people in college are cool because they are older. When you are in college you will look at people in their late 20's and 30's and think.. How Lame.

I sat in church today and thought back to my childhood about my church memories and how I always thought the message was for the old people. Yesterday I thought about how much the message applied to me, and how the leaders did a great job of communicating with people as young as me. It was then I realized that I am a husband, a businessman, and a very short time from being a father. Wow.... I am old. How Lame.

But how awesome is that? I am officially the age that I matter. I can vote. I provide a good tax base for ignorant politicians to waste. I haven't had to ask my parents for money for years. I have a beautiful wife. I own land. I am going to be a dad.

I am going to be a dad.

I always thought I would be scared of the moment that I realized I was out of touch. As I sat in my office running insurance quotes and listening to Metallica I realized, "This makes no sense. I am lame. How can I listen to 'Kill Em All' and ponder the correct liability limits to show?" I don't care. With age has come the acceptance of who I am. I don't need to prove anything to anyone anymore. My wife loves me for who I am and my son will love me for throwing him in the air alot. Sometimes life is both complex and really simple like that.

Someday this will make sense. I just hope you don't get here too soon. I am really looking forward to being the coolest guy you know because I know pirate jokes and will throw you around.

I love you dude. The end.

Be a Patriot

Son, I urge you to be a Patriot. Not only in the "USA USA USA!" kinda way, but in the NFL Patriot sense. I know this might be confusing since I am a Bears fan and hereby require you to be as well if you want to get a piece of the inheritance (I just giggled at the thought of me leaving an inheritance worth worrying over. ) I swear this makes sense.

I figure that your Uncle Gabe and I are 6' and 6'2 respectively and when we were in shape about 180 pounds or so. Your mom's side uncles are about the same, and maybe a bit smaller. I figure you should be about Gabe and my size, and maybe a bit bigger since your mom and I are taller than both of our parents. So what I am getting at, is that you are going to be too small to play sports professionally. You only really have a few shots.

1. Golf- Not really a sport, and I despise golf. I like the golf cart and beer part, but from what I see on TV that isn't really part of the pro game. That leads me to believe that pro golf would suck. Hard. Unless you could find some off the course entertainment... but that will cost you. Some people just think about woods, holes, and strokes and get distracted. I am not referring to anyone in particular here.... but if I were...

2. Soccer- Please God no. I despise soccer.

3. Baseball- Maybe, if the Good Lord smiles down upon you and Greg Maddux will be your pitching coach you will have a chance. You also have a weak shot of being a gritty shortstop. (BTW- Gritty in baseball terms means good at defense and white. If you are pesky that means you are a slap hitting gritty player.)

4. Basketball- Just kidding. You will be white and born to two very unbasketbally people. You better focus on 3 pointers and being European if you want to be a white dude in the NBA.

5. Football- OK, stick with me here. You are going to be too small, and too slow to play in the NFL . You will only have one shot. One chance. (Cue Eminem, the 8 Mile soundtrack) Will you capture it? Or will you let it slip. Yo... yo..

You will have to go to a small college. Probably a DII school, except they aren't called DII anymore, and I don't care enough to look up the new name. Maybe UNI, but you can't live at home. You will need to excel, yet go undrafted because you don't have the measureables. At this point you will need to be scrappy, and gutty. You will have to become, a Patriot.

The New England Patriots are to the NFL what shortstops are to baseball. Some groups just love the gritty white guy. The Patriots have more white people (per capita) on their team than a Republican electoral caucus compared to most NFL rosters. They have a white receiver, two of them in fact. Wes Welker and Julian Endelman. Wes Welker was undrafted and Julian Endelman was drafted in the seventh round and had to convert from a QB.

Quick Trivia- Name the other white receiver in the NFL... there might be more than one, but I couldn't think of them either.

They also have a white running back now named Danny Woodhead. A WHITE RUNNING BACK. Only in New England. The only other white running backs in the league are Peyton Hillis of the Browns (ironic) and Toby Gerhart of the Vikings. These teams are usually associated with staph infections and sexboats... not that that has any connection at all. I just wanted to point that out. Woodhead was undrafted, and cut from the New York Jets roster because he wasn't big enough. These are the guys you will have to emulate.

You are not going to have DB speed, Lineman size, or the skills to be a linebacker. You might be able to be a tight end or perhaps a QB, but I think you will be too small to be a tight end and the QB usually has a crazy dad making him do passing trees in his diapers, and your mom won't let me make you do that to you.

So in summary, if you are going to go pro, you better be ready to gritty, pesky, and an all around player. You will have to work harder than anyone else, and overcome your fair share of adversity. You are are going to have to do it the Patriot way.

Don't Play with Guns

Being an American citizen means that you have a right to bear arms. Not bare arms, the constitution says nothing about the right to wear tank tops or sleeveless t-shirts. Weird coincidence since those two rarely are seen without the other down south. This is an important right because people have the right to protect themselves and to hunt if they choose. You never know when you are going to see a deer and want to shoot it with an assault rifle or sawed off shotgun.

This post is not about the legality, morality, or ethics of firearms. This is about the fatality, mortality, and probability of both in the hands of a Jorgensen. When I was growing up my dad always had a pistol and a rifle. I don't think he had bullets for the pistol, although I do remember holding it as a kid and thinking about how cool it was. Looking back, I am really hoping he didn't have bullets. Probably should have had that locked up either way.

Dad is a terrible shot. If he was ever trying to shoot me I think I would just stand still and wait for him to run out of bullets. I remember we had a woodchuck trapped in mom's garden one time, and dad went and got his rifle to shoot it. (We lived in town at that time, so I don't know how legal this was. What the hell thought, we are Americans, and Republicans. I am sure it was ok.) When dad got back, the woodchuck was being held in place in a corner, trapped against the fence with a rake. Dad shot from about 2 feet away. He missed. I think he shot four times before the woodchuck died. At that point, the woodchuck could not chuck wood.

Another time when we lived on the farm there was a dog that kept coming onto the property and pissing dad off. He decided to scare it off the property by shooting over it's head. He was a good 100 yards away when he fired that warning shot... directly into the dogs head. It died, dad shoveled, and the dog no longer bothered anyone.

My mom on the other hand is more accurate, on accident. When mom and dad were moving into an old farm house before your Uncle Gabe and I were born they found a gun in the basement. Mom was cleaning up so she moved it. She also pulled the trigger on accident. So as the gun bang echoed off the walls she looked across the room at the china hutch she had shot, and at the now white Mother-in-law who was almost shot in the head.

So let's summarize. Guns are legal. Guns are a fundamental right. Please don't buy a gun because you are genetically predisposed to have no aim and sketchy handling technique.

ANNOUNCEMENT

Ashley did not give birth today. But it's good to see you are reading the blog. Childish huh?

Speaker Phone Football

So what does this picture have to do with todays lesson? Not a damn thing. I was trying to think of a way to incorporate watching football with you and teaching my buddy CVP about being a football fan so I Googled "speakerphone football" and this pic came up. See how easy this is?

My buddy CVP has asked me to explain some of the finer points of football as long as I will be explaining them to you. I have thought of three options here.
1. Start a second blog called Lessons for My Van Pelt- Seems too easy
2. Have CVP buy a Fall home in Cedar Falls. - Good Idea
3. Fly out to San Fransisco as a consultant. - Great Idea. Especially because in my world someone else pays for that flight.

So what is this post really about? Nothing. But CVP called tonight and I am out of ideas for blog posts. So this is what you are stuck with.

Monday Night Football

In what I hope will be your final Monday Night Football game in the womb the Chicago Bears beat the Green Bay Packers. This was a game I invited you to, but I am glad that you were not here for. My blood pressure was high, and there was plenty of yelling and screaming involved. The Packers are a good young team and a team that I respect, begrudgingly. Bears vs. Packers is always a good game and tonight's game was no exception. I am worried now that the Bears might not play well once you are born, and then what will I do with you?

Bear Down little buddy. It's going to be a great year. I just hope you can sleep through your dad's yells and penalty calling. I am not sure exactly why it is, but it seems that the refs only make the correct calls if I yell at the TV and make wild arm gestures. It's also how the Bears know when there is a fumble or interception or if they should challenge a play. It's weird that they never acknowledge me in the post game interviews, but I am sure they have alot on their mind.

BEAR DOWN

Fight songs are stupid and outdated when you look at the lyrics but sound so cool when a whole stadium starts singing them after a touchdown. The Bears are no exception in this case. You will need to learn this song no matter how dumb the lyrics.

Bear down, Chicago Bears, make every play clear the way to victory;
Bear down, Chicago Bears, put up a fight with a might so fearlessly.
We'll never forget the way you thrilled the nation with your T-formation.
Bear down, Chicago Bears, and let them know why you're wearing the crown.
You're the pride and joy of Illinois, Chicago Bears, bear down.

Finally

I don't think I need to say anything else. This is amazing.

Labor Alarm

Last night around 2:15 AM my wife woke me up saying "Beau! Beau! Wake UP!"

I realized immediately what this meant. I was ready to jump out of bed and glad the hospital bag and the car seat. I knew I had to get the thing of munchies and the other bag with the baby clothes to bring him home in. Oh man I was excited.

"You're snoring! Roll over!" she said.

False Alarm. Seriously kid. Hurry up.

It's a Small World

When you hear people say, "It's a Small World After All," they are either trying to offer commentary on the interconnectedness of the world, or they are telling you they are in the fifth level of hell. The "It's a Small World" ride at Walt Disney is as much fun as hemroids on a bike ride. The only difference is that I have been on the Disney ride.

The "Small World" saying is crazy in how true it is. The further you venture from home, the more amazing it becomes. When I was a junior in college I had two of these moment while living in Australia for a semester. The first was while we were walking around a mall in Sydney, Austraila and saw an Iowa Cyclones t-shirt. This was not only amazing seeing a bit of home that far away totally at random, but even more amazing because they can't sell Iowa State gear in Iowa! What the hell was it doing abroad?

Funny story about Iowa State:
My good friend Lydia went to Iowa State and when she came home to visit one time I asked how school was and if she had a boyfriend there yet. She laughed and said that school was good, and the male/ female ratio was so wacked that even her ugly friends had boyfriends. That should tell you everything you need to know. DON'T GO TO IOWA STATE.

The other "small world" story from that semester was that I sat down in class the first day next to the first pretty blonde I saw. When I introduced myself I realized that she had the same accent I had, and was in fact from Iowa Falls, IA. Iowa Falls is about a half hour from Hampton, where I grew up. We laughed and became good friends. About 2 years later I stood in the living room of the man, Carrol, that would marry my Grandma Sanders after my Grandpa Leonard had passed. (Grandpa Leonard was one of the cool dudes of all time by the way.) While looking at Carrol's family photos I said, "Mom, that looks just like...." as Carroll pointed over my shoulder and said, "and this is my granddaughter Kandice" who just happened to be the girl I had sat in class next to. Months late at their wedding we shared a laugh at the irony of it all.

There is one last small world story, and it all ties together nicely here. When I was a kid my Grandpa Sanders used to tell a story about the time that he and a few National Guard buddies stole two tanks to race. Grandpa had removed the governor (small device that limits speed to protect the engine) on his tank and was winning, but then he heard over radio that they were coming for him and so he pulled underneath a bridge so they couldn't find him. I always assumed that this was one of Grandpas stories that he didn't let facts get in the way of.

One day while reviewing an insurance policy with an older couple, the couple told me they were from Iowa Falls. I asked if they knew my grandparents. The gentleman started laughing and said, "Are you really Leonard's grandkid? I remember the time we stole a tank and raced it....." That was one of the truly cool moments in my life reliving that story through a second set of eyes. Also, it made me question how many other stories I assumed were BS were actually true.

So long story short.... actually it's fairly long isn't it?... It's a small world and even the things you think you can hide will come back eventually. Live the life you want others to know about and you will have nothing to hide. But like Grandpa Sanders did... live some stories worth telling.

Awwww.....

Isn't this cute? Here's your mom holding you in. I will never forget the sights of you and your mom hanging out, or the sights of your mom hanging out because of you. She has really mastered this whole cute pregnant chick thing. We are so excited to meet you, and can't believe how amazing the whole pregnancy thing is.

But seriously, hurry up. I am getting bored waiting for you to show up. I know that life is going to change and bla bla bla.... but we are ready. The Bears and Packers play on Monday Night Football and we have a Bears sleeper all ready to go. You could come this week and we can watch the game together. Maybe I will even take you out for your first chicken wings.

But really dude. Hurry up. I am bored with this whole waiting thing, and I know your mom is ready to stop wearing my shorts any day now.

I love you, and we have both loved this whole pregnancy thing, but seriously....

Have Awesome Friends

Your friends will be the people that you turn to when your heart has been broken, your job sucks, or you don't know what to do next. Sometimes you will need them to listen, and sometimes you will need them to tell you to suck it up and move on.

Your friends will be the people to help you celebrate the best parts of your life. They will be there when you see your first boob, hit your first home run, get engaged, and stand up for you in your wedding.

Your best friends will be the people that you might not see for a period of time, but when you are together it is like you saw them last week. The same stories you have told for years will seem as awesome as the time when it originally happened. This will drive your wife nuts, but hopefully she will be as understanding as your mom is. Who doesn't want to hear the stories about blowing up snow drifts with Lanky's fireworks again?

Just remember that there is only one thing more important than your friends, and that is your family. If you play your cards right, your friends will become as close to family as you can get. That is when you know you have done it right.

PS. Dad can be your friend too, but I can't tell you those stories until much later in life.

Laugh at Others

Everyone has something they strive to be, and when they meet someone who as the same goal one of two things happen.
1. They work together to make the goal happen.
2. They hate each other and think about how much better they are than the other person.

I hereby implore you to engage in the firts option. I used to fancy myself as quite the funny person. I loved nothing more than when I was the attention of the party and when everyone was laughing at my jokes. So much so in fact that I missed out on multiple opportunities to laugh along with others, because I was thinking about what I could respond with that would be funnier. When did I grow out of that? ....

I don't know how many times in my life I have missed out on enjoying a joke or a funny story by trying to top it. I don't know how many times I have looked like a dick because of it. This will surprise alot of people that I know (no it won't) because they have never noticed it (yes they have) since I have never let it outwardly show (all the time).

So go out there and enjoy what others have to offer, even if it is what you want to be known for. You might end up with a great friend out of the deal. I will never forget the weekend that I met my friend Heiney. He was an obnoxiously loud friend of Fid's. I eventually realized that I didn't like him because we were filling the same role. Now we are great friends, and he's a guy that I love to be around. We get to be loud and obnoxious together.

It's great to have a sidekick like him. You never know when you will need someone almost as funny as you are to enjoy your jokes.

By the way, this is why you shouldn't try to dance. We obviously were being funny at this point... not really dancing...

Possible Job Openings

You can be whatever you want to be. I will never pressure you into a career that you don't want to go into. I will however take this chance to mention a few possible gigs that you could keep your eyes on. Keep in mind that these are the top of the line when it comes to cool, and I will not support you financially while you pursue the dream. If you make it however, I will be back to cash in.

Rock Star- There is not a cooler job in the world, as long as you are one of the very few that actually make it. Otherwise it's just really sad. So just be one of the very few that make it big and it will be a great gig. When you think of it, every concert is an appointment. You can open every appointment by screaming "WHO'S READY TO ROCK??" and everyone will scream back in adoration. If I opened an appointment with screaming anything at my clients I would have dead old people and stinky chairs.

If the band fails you can always be a producer, label executive, or music executive. VH1 is probably holding a job for you as we speak.

Starting Pitcher- Another great job. You are going to have to work hard. If it works there would be nothing cooler. Just make sure to have some good fall back options because you are one busted joint from being Mr. Whatmightvebeen. \

Model- You can move to France and pursue a career in..... Just kidding. This post is written for my son. You would not be my son if you became a model or moved to France. If you did move to France I would suggest keeping a folded up white flag. You never know when you will need to surrender. Just know I would not consider you my son at that point.

Stand Up Comedian- I always wanted to be a stand up comedian. For a while in college I considered dropping out and going on the road. I am glad now that I didn't, but I really wanted to. If I had I wouldn't have been able to have the family that I always wanted, but it would have been fun. Just know that for every great comedian, there are a million stuck in roach infested motels. Not only do you have to think you are the funniest person in your crew, but also have to think you are so funny that people will pay to see you. Think twice before taking this career path.

President- I think that being the President of the United States of America would be the worst job in the world. Any of the previously listed jobs makes more than the President. Think about that for a minute... A killer slider can make you more money than the pres... "You might be a redneck" makes more than the pres....

The President has more power than anyone in the world, but is also second geussed more than anyone in the world. It's a thankless job that causes mad stress. Look at what it does to you.


And to think, Bush looks that much older even though many said he took too many vacations, and Clinton looks that much older after taking too many interns...

It's a tough gig. Choose your profession wisely.

Don't Worry Son

I bought a new shredder for my office awhile back. I wasn't going to anyway, but it reminded me to not shred you. Or your mom's hair. Or shred Silly String. Or even "Jorgensen" my fingers.

Sometimes you can never be too safe. So thank you Brothers Corp. for the heads up on that one.

The Face of the Franchise

There is no one position in football more important than the quarterback. They have the most pressure, the most responsibility, and the best rewards. Pictured above is Tom Brady, who has 3 Super Bowl Rings and 2 Super Bowl MVPs, and despite having a lot of career left is already a sure fire Hall of Famer.
(Tom Brady is making 24 million dollars per year and this is his wife.)
This is why the QB is the often the "Face of the Franchise." You may wonder why the Bears haven't been very good lately. Well son, that is hard to put a finger on. Why hasn't one of our QB's assumed that mantle?
I mean surely Jay Cutler has the talent, the arm strength, and the courage to win. What could be missing?
Even when we were in the Super Bowl a few years back it seemed that we were missing something in the "Face of the Franchise" QB position.


Kyle Orton was the kind of QB that could be a "Game Manager, or Caretaker, but never the face of the franchise.

The last time that the Bears had that kind of QB he turned out to be a bit eratic, and not someone you could count on. But really, who could have seen that coming.

So here is hoping that you are good looking, and have one hell of an arm.