The Little Man was conducting several mini-revolts yesterday. It was the run of the mill five-year-old stances that are made by millions of five year old’s every day. He decided to not listen. Not so much in defiance, but, I think, more so because of laziness.

Several weeks ago, Harp and I took the kids out for dinner at a semi-posh Thai-Japanese restaurant. To say the kids thought the place was a McDonald’s playground was an understatement. I suppose it’s to be expected. They are, after all, three and five. It’s just that, Harp and I were confident that the table manners and proper respect we’d been teaching them would be employed.

The manners and respect weren’t, and Harp and I found ourselves not enjoying the evening as much.

Much the same has continued over the weeks, poor table manners, messy hands, refusing to listen, fighting with each other. So, last night I had had enough. Another bone of contention, The Little Man’s bedtime, is at 9.00pm. But he’s been cunningly stretching it to 9.45pm, or thereabouts. He does this by drinking his milk late, drinking it slowly, and then drinking it with each sip coming from a spoon. Or even slipping in a “have to go to the washroom” break that lasts for ten minutes.

When I saw this happening again. I stirred his milk for him, told him he had five seconds to gulp that thing down, with whatever that was left going down the sink, that as soon as those five seconds were up, he was going to head straight to his room and would NOT be tucked in. And that if he didn’t comply a certain butt was going to get a swift kick.

It’s not that the kids have been completely insane. Hell, real-life TV programs easily remind us of how lucky we are with our kids. It’s the slow erosion, the little chipping away of the rules that they are so good at.

So yesterday, I became the hard-ass Dad. The thing that sucks about this is that I know I have to be super hard-ass for a while now. At least until the kids realize, that this erosion-chipping crap has to stop.

* sigh *

Some of that is because it’s so great to be outdoors. Some of it, is because my knee is feeling stronger. A lot of it, is because I’m sitting on a Cervelo R3 when I’m riding. And then some of it is because riding makes me feel I want to do more. Not just more riding, or getting in shape, but more.

My Cervelo R3 - The build is different now, more to come on this later

What do I mean? Well, last month I joined my company in their upcoming participation in the Heart & Stroke’s Ride for Heart. There are “15 Torontonians that will be hospitalized every day, making heart disease and stroke the leading cause of death in Ontario.”

It’s a good cause, and with close family members going through “near misses” it’d be good to help out.

Joining there, led me to join the Ride for Karen where I’ll be participating in the 160km ride. With wonderful goals, it would be an honor to participate and perhaps raise some money for to help see their goals through. That ride is in the middle of September and so, it give’s me four months, at least, to reach fitness for it.

On a personal level, both rides will help me see through some of the goals I’ve had for myself. One of which was to complete the imperial century, 100 miles (~160km) on a bike. I’ve not ridden that distance since my late teens; the other being to get in good shape again. I’ve grown tired of using my age, work, lifestyle as an excuse.

So, forgive me if the blogs will sometimes sound like I’m giving a report on the progress to fitness for that distance, but hey, too bad . And maybe with some pestering I’ll get you to sponsor me on the ride .. hehe.

Watched Quantum of Solace the other day. Okay, it wasn’t as riveting as the first Daniel Craig, Bond movie, but I still thought it was good.

The talk on the stations centered on Drew Barrymore’s coming of age as an actor, and her stunning performance as Edith Bouvier Beale, but I’ve not seen, nor am I discussing the Grey Gardens that she stars in. Kinda, because I haven’t seen it yet.

“Seventy-nine year old Edith Bouvier Beale and her fifty-six year old daughter, Edith ‘Little Edie’ Bouvier Beale, are Jacqueline Kennedy’s aunt and cousin. Living alone with several cats, fleas and raccoons (the latter, wild, which live in the attic but who Edie feeds), the Beale’s are discovered living in filth and squalor in Grey Gardens, their 28-room family mansion located in East Hampton, Long Island, the mansion which doesn’t even have running water.”

The original documentary is fascinating. I found myself really taken by the mother, daughter pair and their take on the world around them.

The two constantly spar off each other, but you can see deep down how fiercely protective they are of one another. The reflections of their past lives as rich socialites seem to be the one thread they cling to for any semblance of meaning.

I’ll probably catch the movie later, but until then, if you seen the documentary, I’d love to hear your take on it.

In the city there are a lot of bike commuters and the types of bikes they ride range from the absurd to the straight up cool. The riders that always get my attention though are the ones that ride single speed (or fixed gear) bikes.

Cool Fixed Gear Bike featured at Fixed Gear Online

The really good riders of these bikes, ride them with no brakes and the techniques they employ to bring the bike to a stop will range from putting a foot on the wheel to jack-knifing the bike sideways.

Some of these guys have mad skillz. So I started looking up bikers of this kind and lo and behold I come across Mash Transit Productions. Check these guys out in action here. Watch the first video titled AUSTIN – TEXAS. Shit, they’re riding like that without helmets!

Oh yeah, and that fella that joins them? The one with a white t-shirt and khaki shorts, look familiar? That’s Lance Armstrong. I always figured he was a crazy nut.

Anyway, these guys remind me of why I like biking so much. Sure, I may not pull the stunts they do, but just sitting and going for spin, is just plain old fun.

I’ll watch the rest of it tonight when I go down to do some easy weights. I’m gonna have to blaze through that workout as the Habs play Game One of their series against Boston tonight. I have no illusions; I don’t think we’ll get past them, but here’s to hoping.

Personally, I’d just love to see Lucic get his face stuffed in.

My doctor and I got together, yesterday, to speak about the MRI results of my left knee. Back over the Christmas Holidays, I bent it in a way the knee is not supposed to bend, heard a pop, keeled over, and screamed like a mofo.

Turns out I’m currently healing a partial tear to the anterior cruciate ligament. With the knee as the middle of the leg, this injury occurs when the upper section of your leg twists one way, while the lower section twists the other.

It’s not pretty, and it hurts. That’s what you get for trying to turn and pivot on indoor turf.

So the prognosis is that there’s a chance of surgery. I’m to see an orthopedic specialist now. We’ll see where that will take it. The knee is healing, but I still feel stiffness and don’t have the full range of motion I have with my right.

I do want to play soccer again; and I want to play hockey too. So, I’m going to do whatever is necessary to make that happen. For now, I can ride the bike and work on isometrics. For someone who loves cycling as much as I do, that’s just fine for now.

The other day, I noticed something on my way home from work. Truth is, I’ve been “noticing” it for years now. I’m now thoroughly convinced the seasons have shifted down by two months.

Spring comes later now. We just had a dump of snow on us and the date was April 6th. It doesn’t really feel like spring until we’re in late May now. Summer only feels like summer because the kids are let out of jail to torment us in late June. But as far as the weather goes, we’re not really seeing summer weather until well into July.

Mayan Temple at Atlantis in Bahamas - We’d rather be here

So that means fall comes later and if it wasn’t for the light dusting of snow we tend to get over Christmas, you’d barely know we’re coming into winter.

I’m not sure I like the idea of a shift in seasons.  The months you looked forward to, don’t have the same allure now. How many of us used to plan for the beaches on May 24 weekends? Now we’re wondering if we’ll be staying in for pot luck with a couple of logs crackling in the fireplace.

Well, at least we’ll get to spend a day lying in the yard with the incredulous heat on our backs for Thanksgiving :/

You see, when I was in Grade 2, attending Massey Public School, I signed out a book from the library that was the spark for my love all things dreams and magical.

I used to think a lot of things as a seven year old. I remember making shadow puppets on the wall in my bedroom at night – make-believing a tale with foes good and bad in lands and places far off.

So, when I read about Max and his adventure in his wolf costume.  An adventure that would take me to the place Where The Wild Things Are, I don’t think I’ve ever stopped imagining.

And now, the movie is soon to be released. I can only my hope my kids will share the same wonder.

I close my eyes for all of four minutes, and then force myself to get up. It’s a quick trip to the bathroom and then off to the basement for the rehab workout. Three months ago I buckled my left knee something fierce, while playing indoor soccer.

It’s still not back to normal, and with the MRI just done on it yesterday, we’ll see how much more “healing” it will need. As a result, I’m slightly overweight again. Three months of inactivity will do that to you. I could use a drop of 10 lbs just to feel normal again.

I maintain a steady cadence on the bike and watch Episode 9 from Season One of The West Wing. I really enjoy watching that show.

While pedaling I decide that today will be the day I return to writing again. I’ve missed it for far too long.

After the workout I head upstairs for my shower. Harp gives me a morning kiss. The Little Man gives me a hug. The Little Lady is too enamored with Dora the Explorer to notice me.

“Happy Birthday, Hun,” Harp says to me.

Today, I’m 37.

So, I’ll just assume there wasn’t this big void of non-blogness and continue on. Maybe, I’ll throw in a throw back post covering some of the stuff over the last four months. But don’t count on it.

We have a Playstation 3 now. Our home is the kid and tech junkie paradise of our immediate family, as far as gaming goes. It was a nice little gift from work, that actually had me spending some money on upgrading components to my home setup. Better late than never? Meh.

It is cool though. We now have an Xbox360, Nintendo Wii, and Playstation 3 hooked up to a decent and respectable receiver. We’ve never had gaming so good.

On the outset, the PS3 is one sweet puppy and I’m not sure if this is because it’s the new kid on our block, but it seems to me that it just might be a slightly better console than the other two. But to be fair, ask me in another month or so.

~

I’m looking forward to coming home today and seeing how The Little Man got on with his day back at school. No longer in junior kindergarten, he’s rolling with the big boys now. No doubt he’ll have a ton of things to say … or not

I do my best to keep my eyes closed, but Tiia’s insistence to play with my nose, goatee, and ears, gets me up.

:::

It’s a little later in the morning now. Harp and I are having tea while we sit in the shade on the stoop in the front of the house. We don’t say much, just sit and enjoy the fact that we’re finally starting to settle into our home.

Harp walks in to check on some things. I stay and watch as Tiia goes spelunking again. Last nights rain has left several large puddles in the area that is soon to be our front lawn. The Little Lady has an ample supply of rocks to throw into them, each plopping with a small “spelunk.”

This is amuses her to know end, and as I sit here and watch her, I’m become convinced that she has found her calling, at least for the next fifteen minutes.

The Little Man walks from behind me and sits next to me, pulling the straps over the Velcro on his now not so clean Puma indoor soccer shoes.

“You going to watch soccer today Daddy?” he asks. It’s in reference to my near religious following of the EUFA European Cup, 2008 edition, of course.

“Yup”

“What game are you going to watch?”

Portugal’s game against Switzerland offers me nothing. The Swiss are already out, Portugal already through.

“Turkey and the Czechs,” I tell him.

“Then what Daddy?”

“Then we’ll go and play some soccer at the soccer center, and then will come home to see if Tiger can win.”

“Ok,” he says. He leans over and gives me a hug. “Happy Father’s Day,” he adds.

:::

It’s been a good day, the Turks provided some thrilling entertainment with a 3-2 win over the Czechs, our soccer session was fun, and now I’m watching Tiger as he lines up a birdie attempt on 18. If he makes this he forces an 18-hole playoff with Rocco Mediate tomorrow. If not, he loses, and Mediate is the 2008 US Open Champion.

I’m practically on the edge of my seat. He lines up the put and steps to the ball.

“Be great…” I whisper.

The putt is taken, about 2.5 seconds later the ball drops to an incredible ovation. It’s been a good day.