Summer Safety Tips!

As a parent and former EMS professional, safety is always on my mind. Here are a few tips for having a safe and fun summer.

The summer season is officially here. Children are on summer break, pools are open and the temperature is HOT! I think that it is time to review some safety tips.

Prevention is the first step to having a safe and fun summer break. Jamie always says that I am over cautious, but my mind works differently than most peoples. I am always in prevention mode.

1. Children need to wear helmets when riding bikes. Bike accidents are very common for children. Protect their melon and slap on a few elbow pads and knee pads while you are at it.
2. No matter what age your child is make sure that you tell them the rules when around a pool or body of water. Be aware of your surroundings. Know where your children are and where the hazards might be.
3. If your child is swimming always swim with them or make sure that you can see them. DO NOT SWIM ALONE!
4. Sunscreen is very important for all ages. We don't want our children to be miserable because they have a sunburn.
5. Take a CPR class. CPR can be taught to anyone. I have taught several children CPR and most of the time they pay more attention and retain more information than the adults. CPR saves lives. Be ready for anything.
6. Do not spend extended periods of time in the heat. Stay hydrated and cool. Heat emergencies can be avoided by limiting time in extreme temperatures. Drink a lot of water.

Keep your children safe, have fun and enjoy the season. Let me know if you can think of any other ideas to keep us safe.

Please submit links in the comments to fun summer activities in your area.

Ohhhh! My Arms!

Jamie has been attending a local fitness boot camp to get back her "rockin' body", as she calls it, so I decided to join her yesterday. I was really excited to go and work on my "rockin' body" after hearing her description of how fun it was.

The excitement continued building throughout the day. I kept thinking to myself, "Gonna get my flex on. Gotta get my sweat on. I'm gonna get ripped." All of those typical guy thoughts. I think that I even did my best Arnold impression in the mirror. "Get down! Get into the choppa!" (Bicep flex, Tricep flex, Mr. Universe pose) You get the idea.

I began to think back to my glory days when I lived in the weight room. "King of the Weight Room" title holder-1997. The more I thought about it, the older I felt. I was in high school over 12 years ago! This could be bad. I sit behind a desk all day typing away and making phone calls. Not exactly a physically demanding job. I began to worry. How sore will I be tomorrow, will I pull something, will I still have good form, etc...

The wife briefed me before going to the class. "Don't be all competitive and stuff. Just do the exercises and don't embarrass me." I just gave her the typical, under the breath, "Uh huh." I was about to own this class! I swelled up just thinking about it. How hard could it be. Jamie always came home saying, "We walked around the building carrying our weights. We did a bunch of squats today. We did crunches and leg lifts today." I thought to myself, "And they call it bootcamp?"

Well, here is a little back story. My aunt is the bootcamp founder and instructor. I always hear, "Are you related to Melody? I go to her bootcamp and I have lost 75 pounds." I reply with the robotic "Yes and congratulations!" After hearing the same question and story over a million times you just program your response in your mind. Really though, congratulations, I am glad that she is doing very well with her classes and helping so many people.

I stroll into the building, psyched up and ready to go. I have not been through a good workout routine in quite a while. We drop Charlie off in the daycare room and proceed to a large area where 50 people are rolling out their mats and getting ready for class. They line up their 3 and 5 pound weights and stretch a little. It is easy to recognize who the "professionals" are and who the "rookies" are. I thought that this was going to be a fun class until I realized that the "rookies" are the smiley people and the "professionals" are the not-so smiley people.

I made my way to the instructor, my aunt, and asked to borrow some weights. Now, everyone has 3 and 5 pound weights. I was expecting to receive some 3 or 5 pound weights for the class. I found myself with a set of 12 pound weights. At the time, I had no idea what we would be doing with the weights so I thought that 12 pound weights were standard for the males in the class.

We began the "warm-up" stage of the class and no one told me that it was just a warm-up until we were about 10 minutes in. We marched in place. That went well. We did some side-to-side shuffling. That was okay. We then performed some jumping jacks. Still good. Then the warm-up took a dark turn. Melody announced to the class that she had family members attending and she had to make a good first impression. Pardon my language, but I think that I said something along the lines of "Oh, s**t!"

We picked up our weights and began hammer curls. I made it through the curls without an issue. The hammer curls then turned into over-head presses. This is where it went down hill. I began the presses and after about 176 reps my shoulders began to tire very rapidly. Apparently I asked the wrong person for some weights to borrow.

The presses merged into hammer curls to over-head presses. In between sets we performed side step squats. I found muscles that have been in hibernation for several years. The burn was running through my body. My face had to be priceless. Just imagine a tough guy trying to keep a serious face mixed with the occasional break through of the, "Holy Mary and Joseph! What am I doing here?" face. My curls turned into wrist twist, the presses transformed into weights resting on the shoulder, squats became waist bends. I was done and we were only 20 minutes in.

As we were finishing up the "warm-up" my cousin came to me and said that Charlie was having a melt down. A part of me was thinking, "Thank you Jesus.", but another part of me wanted to try to get back to class. I was pushing through the pain and about to break through the warm-up stage. I went to console Charlie and he was not going to let me leave the room without him. I picked him up and grabbed his bag of Cheetos. Now I am walking around a fitness bootcamp carrying a bag of Cheetos. I tried to hide them to the best of my ability, but I could still read the minds of the people around me. They must have thought that I was the devil. I can hear it now, "Carrying Cheetos around here. What a great supporter he is." Sorry everyone. They were for Charlie.

My body is letting me know today that I got a butt whipping yesterday. We have arranged for Grandma to watch Charlie for the next class. I will be going again tomorrow. This time I will own that routine.

Aim and Jame!

Throughout life God brings people into our lives to teach us, encourage us, support us and love us. We make the decision to keep those people in our lives or watch them pass by. Some are simply messengers, some become permanent fixtures. My wife has found a permanent fixture in her best friend Aimee. No matter how hard we try to get rid of her, she keeps coming back. I'm just kidding.

Jamie and Aimee, ha ha, Jamie and Aimee, get it? Anyway. These two goofs have been inseparable since I met Jamie. There is never a dull moment when you are around them. They talk about the most random stuff that anyone could ever think of. I can never figure out what in the heck they are talking about, but they find it funny. I just stare at them with a perplexed look on my face.

In an effort to get their "rockin' bodies" back, they have decided to go to a boot camp fitness class. Apparently they are quite the comedians while exercising. They have invited me to go tomorrow, but to be honest, I am afraid that they might embarrass me while I am working on my fitness. They might even make me laugh hard and pass gas in the middle of a sit-up. They would have to offer a refund because everyone would leave. Lord, give me the strength to make it through one class.

Through the good times and the bad Aim and Jame (mis-spelled on purpose to exhibit the pronunciation) have always been there for each other. One is clumsy and one is clueless. I will let you decide which one is which. How do you fall down while just walking? How do you mis-hear the lyrics to every song? I'm not sure, but it makes for good stories.

Okay, seriously. Aim is one of those friends that is always there for her best friend. She racks up my cell phone bill, but it is okay. I am glad that my wife has such a great friend. Jamie and I, Aimee and her husband (not sure if he wants to be mentioned, we will call him "J") do a lot of vacationing together along with date nights. J and I never get to talk much, not that we talk a lot anyway, because we always have two hens clucking in our ears.

Aim and Jame went through their fertility issues together, gossip together, yell at idiots together and go on random drives together. Two funny moms are better than one. Two mad moms is a bad day if you are on the receiving end. Don't test them! I guess that Aimee is a pretty good permanent fixture to have around. Thanks Aim for being who you are and Jamie's friend.

Coo-Hip!

Cool whip is the ultimate topping! You can put it on cake, ice cream, fruit or just eat it plain. I have never heard the question "Hey, do you want some Cool-Whip?" followed by the answer "Nah." You can not resist that fluffy, tasty mouth full of goodness. My son is no exception. The kid will eat anything that looks like it is sweet.

Charlie was a little upset last night as he began to wind down for the evening. As usual, Grandpa could not bare to here the sounds of his sweet grandson in distress. It is amazing how, as a parent, you interpret the sounds of your whining child as a bedtime alarm and, as a grandparent, you interpret the whining as absolute, world-ending stress. In his typical, frantic fashion, Grandpa searches for a remedy to stop the whales and cries of the young offspring that is not pleased with the talk of going to sleep.

Grandpa quickly scurries about the kitchen opening cabinets, searching high and low like a Meerkat on watch, checking the fridge like a Bear in a picnic basket and rolling out drawers, rifling through them like a gold digger, for something to soothe his grandson. Charlie spots that Cool-Whip bowl and immediately begins the two-arm reach and hop accompanied by the "I'm spoiled rotten uh-uhs." Grandpa slaps a dollop of Cool-Whip in the bowl and sits in the floor so that Charlie may have quick and easy access to the "cure" for his problem.

Charlie did not mind that he had to crouch like a spider monkey to eat the new-found treat that Grandpa  had supplied. The crying and whining immediately stopped as Charlie tossed back a spoonful of that fluffy goodness. Grandpa breathed a sigh of relief and exclaimed, "I can't stand to hear him upset!" We appreciate the concern for his happiness, but it is 20 minutes until bedtime. The child wants for nothing and never will because Grandpa is wrapped around his little finger.

Progression of Charlie

Plain Cake!

I walked into my in-law's house this evening to the wonderful aroma of Chocolate cake baking. My mouth began to water as my father-in-law pulled the beautiful, fluffy morsel from the oven. He opened the drawer, grabbed a knife and thoughts of that fresh chocolate cake being smothered in cream cheese icing ran rampant through my mind. I think that I may have drooled a little. In one of those horror movie slow motion flashes that you sometimes see in your mind, the knife pierced the heart of the cake with no trace if icing anywhere. I did not know whether to scream, cry or prevent another murderous stab into the now designated heart of that beautiful cake. I could not believe what just happened. As the son of a cake maker, I had just witnessed a crime. Who eats plain chocolate cake with no icing? My father-in-law. That is who.

I quickly opened the refrigerator in an attempt to find some icing to patch the wound that had been inflicted on that poor cake. There was not a single container that represented the familiar shape of an icing cup. 

After rooting around the shelves of the fridge in a panic I found a tub of cool-whip. It was not quite what I was looking for, but I made due. I slapped a dollop on the cake commenced eating. The cake was obviously delicious, but I cried through the whole experience. I have never been through such a traumatizing experience. Put icing on the cake!

The Talker!

Mr. Jabber Jaw is starting to talk up a storm. I can't understand about 99% of what he is saying, but I know that it is something funny because it is always followed by a cute, yet somewhat mischievous laugh. If my child is not cute enough already his personality will be the icing on the cake. Charlie is a bit of a renaissance man. He is a comedian, singer, dancer and a bit of a holy terror. Don't let those innocent blue eyes fool you. This child knows how to get into trouble. He also knows when he is doing something that he is not supposed to because he looks at you, smiles, tilts his head in an innocent fashion and giggles. What little hair I have left will soon be gray.

Charlie is obsessed with cords. I have no idea where he gets that from. (I have a scar in my mouth from chewing through a cord when I was two years old) He has also found out that when you stick your finger in the fan it makes a funny noise. The boy doesn't care that it hurts. Ahhhh!!!! Did I mention that he is a daredevil too? Every chair, every table, couch, stool, block wall, swing is a stage. The stage then becomes a high dive podium. What did I do to deserve a heart attack every five minutes? Please Lord! Forgive me! 

Charlie's vocabulary is growing everyday. Most sentences include "Daddy" and "eat". The conversations go like this. "Bleak a blo da hiss by Da-da. Doke uh det be sen this. (Evil laugh)" The newest word is cracker. Though another comes out occasionally that goes something like "sit". Someone has been hanging around Grandpa too much.

Through all of the gray hair and heart attacks you can't help but love the boy.