New Years End

All new years end; last year's did just a day ago.  I am really not ready for that so I am just going to deny it.  Our collective mood in the house this year was subdued; perhaps the boys noticed my thinly veiled melancholy.  I felt oddly guilty in my sadness that some had no one to open the presents and we did.

Yesterday the Christmas stuff came down and I found these in a pile of drawings near the tree.  Christmas wishes I forgot to send on?  Gifts from the boys?  Santa bribes?  I am not sure.

Nick did this one:

It's actually our living room.  We put up the letters J-O-Y on the wall above the fireplace.  You know, in retrospect I just may have put that 'J' up backwards this year.  Well, that's embarrassing.  I really dig his fire in the fireplace, it is simple yet dynamic.  We hang some sparkly ornaments above the window and we have a very fluffy tree, with six ornaments on it.  And N's catchphrase is indeed "Horay."

Zack designed a fancy card for next year I guess:

He's been experimenting with a cursive sort-of font and it seems to be evading him.  Overall though, I like it; the colors are nice, I like the tree iconography and the message is simple and inclusive.

I also found this from Nick:

They told him they were poinsettias but they are actually those horribly colored brown maroon mums you see every fall.  It's still festive but I think he needs to go deeper into the Crayola palette and find some happier hues.


From Marci's  "... things you don't expect to hear from the backseat ..." *

"Let me get my monocle!"

Game on...

*a feature first introduced in the post Yesterday's Math.

Postings Post

I am going sort of rogue today, but not really.  I like to blog here about my boys, their antics, my relationship with them, stuff like that.  Today however, I will offer this list of blogs by other "Dad Bloggers."

I can rectify rationalize bullsh*t my way to this by simply stating this:  This many men love their children enough to take the time to write about them.

And that, is very cool...

I am often underwhelmed by social media.  I like that I've caught up with old college pals and co-workers but, I am often flabbergasted by the sheer mendacity of the statuses and such.  However, a really cool dude, Oren, (that's his post at the top of the list) organized a Facebook page for Dad Bloggers and it has changed my perception of what social media can do.  I am not alone in my desire to honor and cherish my children in a public forum, and that makes me feel good.

I can't expect you to find the time to read every post however, but just look at the sheer volume here, feel the love poured out, know that the children are loved and being celebrated. 

Here is the list, in no particular order: 


Looking At My Boy - A Blogger and A Father

Dear Hypothetically Gay Son - Ask Your Dad

Why We Have Kids - DadScribe

Does Our "Elf On The Shelf" Have A Penis? - Kyle of Rather-Be-Shopping

The Upside of Timidity - Ray Colon

May Your Song Always Be Sung - ihopeiwinatoaster

Gays, Muppets, Chicken + Jesus - Designer Daddy

Saying Goodbye To "Campa" - The Real Matt Daddy

Education vs. Intimidation: Why Your Parenting Philosophy Is Not Mine - Fodder 4 Fathers

10 Phrases That Will Reduce A Parent To Tears - DadDoes

Honoring Pearl Harbor - Rob Hatton

Toys Reflect Our Story - Cute Monster

A Daddy's First Miscarriage And The Feelings That Came With It - Keith of Daddy Place

Raising Children Without A Father Of My Own - Canadian Dad

Spiderman, My Kids And The Kissing Episode - Mommy's Busy... Go Ask Daddy!

Biggest Legends Of The West In One Photograph: Fake Or Real?

On Holding Hands: A Meditation On Being A Father - Raised By My Daughter

A Sublime Parenting Moment - Luke, I Am Your Father

The Parenting Wars... Starring Legos - Daddy's In Charge?

Whose Shoes To Fill - Active Duty Dad

Lessons From America - The P Word

The Intro - Ay Yo, Be A Father

Giving  from the Heart - Dad's Roundtable


There are so many more men out there doing this and this list in no way includes all the men out there blogging about parenting.  The list is drawn only from the FB page.


I wondered how I would find a suitable topic for my year-end post...  thanks guys.

Juxtapost (A Future's Perfect Post)

It's the day after Christmas and I am obliged to show Christmasy pictures and wax poetic.  I am not really up for that but I will share a little story, a story I would probably forget in a few years if I didn't write it down here.  A story which by that time might just be a fiction in an old man's imagination.  A story I would like to tell when the boys are older and a fire's burning and their spouses are with them and grandchildren are there and...

The old man sits amid a gaggle of people in a forever too small living room.  A fire burns in the low, loud room and it is warm, but the old man, once heavy and always hot, is small now and feels the years in his shoulders and the cold in his nose.

"Dad, it's your move."

He looks down on the juice-beer-coffee-marker-pen-chicken-popcorn-butter-stained coffee table and sees the chess-set which his family has given him for Christmas the day before.  He smiles inwardly at the mistake in strategy the boy, no man, has always made.  They are forever boys, he thinks to himself, in my mind at least, but now men as well, grown men, with their own families and worries and dreams.  When exactly does that happen, he wonders.

"Well now, Nick, you've gone and made the same mistake you've always made; you don't see the long attacks."  He leans forward and a little boy shape slips in behind him.  Is it a grandchild, a memory, the ghost of a beloved never-forgotten secret snuggle, a comforting arm, a dream?  He isn't sure but the warmth pleases him.

"Sorry," he says as he shoots a rook across the board and takes out a threatening bishop.  The wood of the new chess pieces is unfinished and the design sparse, the board is leather and oak.  The set pieces are ironwood he realizes, difficult to carve, substantial, deep.  He understands that the character of this set is much like his own.  He understands the care taken in the choosing of this particular set and appreciates it.

"Yeah, he was always a sucker for a hidden bishop or queen," another voice comes down from above.

"Zack, no one asked you, buddy."  The old man says.

The ghost of a snuggle behind him makes a noise, a giggle, and then says, "Dad, when did you learn to play chess?"

The bishopless man-boy answers, "I don't know, son.  When did we learn to play, Dad?"

The memories flood all at once as they always do, rich and detailed, although so long forgotten.

The year they learned to play chess as the Furbys looked on.

The old man looks at the two sons.  I'm seventy-seven that makes them thirty-three now, he thinks, and thirty-three years of Christmas memories assault him at once: hugs and a birthday song; oranges and Starbursts in the toes of stockings; tee shirts and sweatshirts; board games and video games; crystal ornaments and J-O-Y  spelled out on a wall above a fireplace, below which the stockings still hang.

They filter through his mind, each one individual yet recalled instantaneously, as though they were one thing; a collage, a montage.  His mind lands on one memory, probably a photo somewhere, of a chess- set, a note from Santa and a brown banana peel.

"It was the year you decided to give Santa a 'healthy snack, because it looks like he needs one,' you said.  Remember, the year we made individual plates for all the Reindeer and put the food out for them on them.  You know, that plan didn't really work out.  I had hoped it would be easier to clean up if we didn't sprinkle it on the..."

"Dad, be cool," the voice from above whispers.

The old man remembers the lump of warmth behind him.

"... ground.  But the reindeer weren't very neat, even from their own plates.  I still had to sweep up the leftovers.  They ate all the miniature marshmallows though.  Even Santa thought that was a great idea."  He finishes with a wink at his chess-mate across the table.

"I remember you teaching us.  It was that board with how the player moves sort of marked on each piece.  I'd forgotten all about that."  The boy, no man, Nick, says, the memories flooding back in his mind as well.   "I remember I couldn't figure out how a pawn, of all things, worked.  I remember you said the pawn marched forward but attacked with a slash move diagonally.  You showed us how it looks.  I still think of you doing that every time I take a piece with a pawn.  Santa brought that board."

"What else did they get that year, Bill?,"  a familiar, comforting voice asks from across the room.

"I remember now, Mom:  Furbys."  The other boy, no man, Zack says as he flops his lanky body down on the couch next to the man.  Their shoulders touch and the old man feels the familiar electricity that only a child's touch can give.

The little ghost of warmth behind him giggles again.

"What's Furbys?" it asks.

"They were these little stuffed animals that kinda came alive, and responded to your voice and touch and moving them around.  God, I'd forgotten all about those.  Sometimes I wonder how much I have forgotten, it's sorta sad."  He puts his hand into the wrinkled, age-spotted hand of his father.  "I remember the Furbys drove you nuts, Dad."

"Oh, in all honesty, I thought they were kind of cute.  I remember the day after Christmas that year, you guys were up early as usual and really wanted to go out into the living room so you could wake up your Furbys and see how they were doing.  I finally said yes but told you I had to take a shower.  When I came out of the shower I looked down the hall and there you were, the four of you, at this very table, the chessboard between the two of you and the black and orange Frurbys looking on."

"Oh yeah, I remember those, mine was the orange one.  I loved those stupid things," the boy named Nick says wistfully.

"I remember thinking at the time what a perfect moment that seemed to me.  I beautiful depiction of who you were then.  On one hand little men learning a game for men, a game of battles and romance, a game of kings; and, on the other hand, little boys buying into, perhaps for one of the last times, the magic of imagination and make-believe those silly little Furbys represented."  The old man is emotional, he has always been so but these days he doesn't seem to cover it as well, and he feels his eyes welling up as that moment comes back to him.

"What's a Furby?"  Another voice, more emphatically this time, asking from seemingly under the Christmas tree.

"It's hard to explain.  I bet there's a picture in our photo albums.  Where's mine Mom?"  Zack, the father of the voice under the tree asks.

"Just where they've been for the last thirty years, Zackers."

Both boys fly up and over to the shelves and begin flipping through the albums.

"Christmas, two-thousand-twelve, boys," the old man says, brushing the tear from his eye, glad the attention has gone away from him.

And then, practically in a whisper, he adds:  "The year you learned to play chess as the Furbys looked on."


"Here it is,"  They say at the same time.

"Jinx, you owe me a soda," they then say at the same time...

"Furbys sound creepy," the boy behind the old man says softly.  And then, after a perfect pause, the pause where love lives, "will you teach me to play chess, too, Grampa?"

O Holy Night

It is intensely important for my readers to understand that my heart is beyond broken by this tragedy.  I mostly write to help my own healing.  I am in no way trying to use this and, if you must know, I am reluctant to press publish for fear I will offend someone in so doing.  Know, gentle readers, that I sobbed uncontrollably tonight as I wrote this.

My Dearest Chase,

Tonight it is Christmas Eve and I wanted to remember to wish you a very merry Christmas.  Tonight at church my boys, you remember them right, sang at the service at four o-clock.  It was crazy this year, lots of kids and parents and kids and, did I say kids?  It was really crazy.  The boys sang Silent Night, which is the best Christmas song ever, and Away in a Manager.  Did you get to sing tonight?  I bet you did.

At school the boys made food for Santa's reindeer.  We decided to put it on plates this year and they wrote the names on each plate.  I took a picture for you:

The big blue one is for Rudolph.  Do you think he'll figure that out?  Yeah, me too.

Oh, hey, they wrote notes to Santa as well:

Sometimes, I sort of tell people what the notes say but, I am pretty sure you read little boy, don't you?  Nick's seems a little pushy, "I hope you git me good presents this year," but, he's really a very good boy.  Zack's is nice, I like the "hope you have a nice ride" part.  I like how he signed "Your Friend," that's a nice touch.

Well, it's time for me to go to...

Wait, what on earth is that noise?  It's sort of a jingly-jangly noise and something is thumping on the roof...  I better go check it out...


DUDE!  It was Santa!  Here!  I saw him in the living room.  I really, really saw him!  I tried to hide, but he caught me, man, I was so nervous.  He said "Ho, Ho, Hello Coach Bill!"  Sort of excited but quiet at the same time.  I said "Ho, Ho, Hello Santa" back at him and he laughed really hard.

Since I'd never seen him before I sort of just stood there in awe and stared at him as he put stuff in the stockings and laid out some presents.  I couldn't understand why I could see him, I mean, I never had before, so I asked him why I could see him this time.

"Well, Coach, when a grownup sees me it usually means he has something he wants to ask me.  Do you have something to ask me?"  He said.

Well, you know what, I did, but I was afraid to...

"Go ahead, Billy" he said so tenderly and quietly.  I knew then that he knew what I needed to ask.

"Santa," I began, "a little while back a little boy I know and some of his friends had to leave and, well, I am worried about them and I wonder if they'll get presents and stockings and stuff.  I just hope they will be happy..."

"Yes, Chase, right, and some of his school friends," Santa said.

"Yes,"  I said

"Well, Coach, here's the thing.  Christmas is about something that happened, in the past, the birth of a baby.  It's about a family, and a boy who grew up to be a great man, perhaps the greatest.  Christmas is about memories and love; yours, your boys, your brothers, everyone's really.  Altogether those memories are what makes Christmas happen.  Christmas is all that love coming back and starting over."

I said, "Well, I get that, I guess.  But I am still worried about him being happy."

"Bill," Santa said, "that's not really the point.  Let me put it this way:  He is Loved.  He is loved by you, by his family, by his friends, and by me.  Love is bigger than happiness, bigger than presents and cookies and reindeer and stockings.  It's bigger than me and I am very round.  Love is bigger than everything; love is everything, my child."

"Thanks, Santa, I guess that helps.  I have been so sad for him, but I guess...  Santa, will you visit him this Eve?"  I asked him.

He looked around, he peered down the hall, and then he winked and said, "Where he lives is always my last stop.  And all the little boys and girls gather around me and I tell them about all the people who love and miss them."

"And do they seem happy Santa?"

"Yes, Coach, they do."

"Santa, before you leave will you give Chase a special message for me?  Tell him my heart still needs some healing.  He'll know what I mean.  And tell him that I love him..."

Well, and here's the amazing part, he gave me a hug and he smelled like cookies and reindeer and hot chocolate and joy and tenderness and leather and hope.  He looked me in the eyes and I felt his love, felt his peace and his goodness.  And that's when I knew...

"I certainly will Coach, but you know what?  I never leave where he is," and a silent tear fell down his weathered old face. "It's where I live as well."

And then he put his finger on the side of his nose and flew up the chimney and was gone.


So, goodnight, Chase.  I feel a little better now, knowing that you'll see Santa and that he has wonderful presents for you.

Your Pal,

Coach Bill

Fresh Off The Wire

I wouldn't have believed it, but both the AP and the UPI are rolling this story, Snopes even verified it.

"The day that santa got stuck  One day, the day before christmas I herd a thump santa is stuck! I went to the chimney to help santa and I got him down. But he dident have enough time to give all the presents to everyone.  So I had to help him!  I had so much fun and I got home in time for christmas.  I love Christmas."

"If santa was stuk in my cimney I wold...  First:  I wold sneak out of the hause and git a lader  Next:  I wold climb The lader and go to the cimney.  Then:  I would jump on santa.  Finly: he wold fall thro the chimny and he wold still have time to give us a presents.  I wold go back to bed and go to sleap."

Santa's a dumbass...

(That second reporter needs to get his spellcheck on.)


From Marci's "...things you don't expect to hear from the backseat... "  Facebook page:

Nick was unscrambling letters for homework and the BIG word was duckling.
Trying to help him figure it out, I did what any mom would do - I make wings and started quacking.
"Duck," he guessed.
"Yes ... and ... " I said and made myself shorter and repeated the sound (get it? small + duck = duckling).
"Quack?" he guessed.
"Not quite," I quacked.
He smiled triumphantly, "I know! Onomatopoeia!"

fail - BUT *Love that my kid knows what onomatopoeia is!*

I witnessed this and fell out...

(In less than seventy-two hours the post about my new pal Chase Kowalski shot to the top of my popular posts list.  I could not be more pleased.  Thanks to all who gave it a look.  I will be keeping in touch with him in future posts.)

Chase Kowalski

I got a new pen-pal today.  His name is Chase.  He chose me, really.  There was a far-too-long list of names and he was the only boy who was seven on the list.  I guess I seemed like a good match to him.

He had to go away Friday.  I am still going to write him anyway, writing to people and about them can help them never really go away.


Hey Chase,

I'll start out by saying I love you, yeah, I know, that's kinda weird for me to say that, me not knowing you and all, but...  You see, I have twins, boys, seven years old, they're in Second Grade now, and I love them a lot - they're children - I love children - so, I love you.  A lot a lot a lot and a lot of people love you, buddy.

I am not really that interesting, I am a Dad.  I help out at the school library and in the computer lab, pretty boring.

I would think that perhaps my boys will be interesting to you.  Let's see, one is named Zack, the other Nick, I told you they were in Second Grade, but they were in first last year.  I guess that's obvious.  You know what?  I use a lot of biggish words when I talk to kids, that's because I respect you, I hope you don't mind.  Anyway, they are pretty terrific kids.

 Here's a picture of each of them:

I know, they are pretty funny-lookin' kids, aren't they?  And what's up with those "I heart me shirts?"  Ha, ha, I tricked ya, that's not really them, these are really pictures they drew of themselves, you know, selfportraits.  They drew them in first grade last year, same as you.  I'll bet you draw pictures of yourself, too.

Let's see, that's Zack there at the bottom, he's a happy kid.  He dances and does kick-moves, all the time.  All. The. Time.  He's funny and creative and goofy.  I'll bet you are, too.  He was sad when he heard you had to go and he's been thinking about you.

Standing there on top of Zack's head is Nick.  He is SILLY!  You see how crazy and busy that picture looks?  That's how he is.  He really likes to read and sing and play with LEGOs.  I'll bet you do, too.

You know how I said I like to use big words with kids, well, sometimes I use big ideas with kids, too.  That's because I know kids can handle big ideas.  Well, Nick is very sad you had to go, but, he is also afraid for himself and his friends and family.  I'll bet you are, too.  It may be hard to understand, but, he misses you.

Hey, is your birthday on Halloween?  How cool is that!  This year the boys went as wizards and they made these really cool sticks, like big wands, magical wands.  My boys L-O-V-E Halloween.  I'll bet you do to.

Remember how I told you Nick was really silly.  Well, on Friday, he brought this home from school:

Seriously, he's crazy... I mean, what the heck is going on here?  There's a surfboard and a shark and trees and flowers and, and, a lawn gnome.  He's loves to draw and that sun , up near the top, he always makes his suns like that.  I like them.  I'll bet you create some wacky stuff, too.


Zack made this at school, too.  It's one of his favorite stuffed animals, Wolffy.  That's him standing next to Wolffy.  He really doesn't have white pants trimmed in blue.  Oh, and he really does have feet, really cute feet, he just always forgets about them when he draws.  I'll bet you have cute feet, all little boys do.

Do you know we have over two-hundred stuffed animals around here?  I am working on a little movie about them.  Hey, when I get it done, I'll show it to you; it's gonna be epic, little dude.

I heard you like to run.  Boys like to run, don't they?  It makes you feel so free and happy.  You know, that's how I imagine you now, free and happy, running, jumping, laughing.  Just keep doing that.

Oh, I just thought of something you might find interesting about me, I coach the boys baseball team.  I love coaching little boys about your age.  You are all so good and eager and you all try so hard.  You are my heroes on the baseball field.  Do you like baseball?  I bet you do.  Here's a couple of photos of the boys playing baseball:

I told you they were goofy looking kids.  No, I did it again, ha-ha.  They drew these pictures, too.  Our team name was The Angels.  I'll bet you're an Angel, too.


Well, buddy, I gotta take care of some errands and stuff.  I am sorry you had to go, I'm sure your family is, too.  Hey, would it be alright if I kept writing you now and again?  I'd like that.  Maybe I could introduce the boys to you and they could give me ideas about what you might like to hear about.  Cool?  It's a promise then. 

Chase, you know how I said I use big words and ideas with kids?  Well sometimes I ask big favors, too.  You see, something is broken in me and only a little boy from Connecticut can fix it, it's my heart.  Could you help it heal?  Thanks, man.

I'll be talking to you, little man.  I'll be thinking about you.  I promise to see you in every smile and swirly sunset; I'll hear you in every giggle and whisper and crack of a bat; I'll love you between every breath I take.

Much love,

Mr. Peebles, (but you can call me Coach Bill, a lot of kids do.)

P.S.  Sleep in heavenly peace, little dude, sleep in heavenly peace...

See Zack City!

The Zack City Chamber of Commerce invites you to visit, relax and take advantage of their unparallelled range of services and amenities:

I don't need the decoder ring here.  "Zack city is a big place.  It has a big Zoo with lots of animals, a Beach that is very sunny and a public pool and lots of people come every year.  The Library has lots of Books.  The Zoo has lots of Animals.  Santas entrance is a big help to santa.  The park is a very Big place for the kids to play.  the car store is a good place for people that need cars.  The BaseBall Dimond Is for BaseBall players to go.  Zack city is a very fun place you'll want to come back each year"

Wow!  A zoo with animals, a library with books, a pool and a beach, a car dealership, and nothing but baseball on the baseball fields.  And an entrance for Santa.  No wonder I'll want to come back.

The brochure came with a map:

With a legend:

 Look at all this stuff.  There's a crosswalk, a news studio, a park, a radio station, a dance studio, the car store (Ford, no doubt), Baseball diamonds, a freakin' museum.  Nestled in with the basketball, football and field hockey venues is a "Buter-fly court", which I think is a real nice touch.

The key for Santa's entrance is his hat; a heart for the hospital; a spraying hose rake for the garden store; the "pestraunt" (restaurant I assume, unless it's an eatery for you and your pets) sells clams and/or burgers judging from its key; and the "grosry" (grocery) sells cones of food from the looks of its key.

There is a President's office.  I am not sure if this means the president returns each year to Zack City or if there is a president of Zack City.  (I've tried but I can't make out the key for that one; a phone, a cartoon dynamite plunger thinge, a podium?)

Finally there is a the school, some towers, a house, the town square, the aforementioned Zoo (with animals!), the beach, the pool, the pet store.  A river runs through it and, if you don't like to dine with your pets, a pizza place.


Imagination.  Savor it, nurture it, encourage it.  It is how bridges are built, moons are reached, hearts are transplanted, wounds are healed.  It is the place where Literature begins and Art grows and Songs are first heard.  It is where love and righteousness bloom, where happiness and joy are safe, where dreams begin.  It is ours and ours alone, we humans, we sons and daughters of God.  It is our right, our legacy and our honor.

You show me your Zack City and I'll show you mine...