Let's Go Mountaineers!

WVU plays Clemson tonight for the NIT national championship. 7pm on ESPN.

In the "other" lesson-known tournament, my wife's Florida Gators are once again in the Final Four and play Saturday.

Tonight, the Undaling will be crammed into his one and only WVU outfit (which consists of a too-tight 0-3 month onesie and a hat that falls down over half of his face).

Saturday, he'll wear one of his 19 Florida Gators outfits.

For the record, I'm a little disturbed by this inequity.

Got Milk?

Oops. I dropped the Undaling off at daycare this morning, but forgot to drop off the little cooler of pumped milk that Mrs. Undaground worked so hard to make. He'll have to drink formula today.

So in addition to my daily work responsibilities, I'm now responsible for the safekeeping of this milk so that it can be used at a later date.

The guy in the office next to me has a mini-fridge, so I've placed the valuable liquids in there.

Once, I left a bottle of Gatorade in his fridge, only to find that he had drank it in a moment of weakness when he clearly needed to replace some electrolytes.

There's a chance I'll walk into his office later and find him with a fresh, milk moustache.

Creepy.

Maybe I should leave him a note (or some chocolate chip cookies).

Announcement

If anybody wants to play Yahoo fantasy baseball, and can draft live online this Thursday night at 9pm, email me at theundaground@gmail.com. Act now before time runs out.

Dusting

It's dusty in here. I was a bad blogger last week. I want to write, I really do. I'm saving for a laptop now so I can blog at home again. It seems the addition of a child in our home has decreased the time I spend on the computer. I figure a laptop costs about $600, and so far I've saved somewhere between $25 and $30 in quarters, dimes and nickels. I'll get there, and soon I can live blog while watching reality television. Awesome.

This weekend, I kept an eye out for a good topic to write about on Monday. I was hoping somebody would annoy me enough in public to inspire me.

Nope. The closest I came was when a lady on a cellphone cut me off while I was pushing the stroller. But alas, we were on church grounds, so I don't really think it would be fair for me to go off on some diatribe about her. Jesus would be pissed. Even though this was clearly rude, and she nearly caused a stroller fender bender, I'll hold off, and hope I see her someday on less sacred ground.

We went to lunch Sunday and enjoyed some fried food as a family. I looked around the restaurant because that sort of people watching would surely give me a Monday topic.

Wow, check out the huge mole on his cheek! It's the size of a Susan B. Anthony dollar. This is great. Holy Mole-y. It's mol-eriffic. This will be fun. Nothing like a gigantic mole when you're on a hunt for blog material. Wait a sec. It's a kid. I was so distracted by the mole that it took me a minute to realize it belonged to a 7-year-old. I'm sorry, kid. I won't write about the mole, as much as I'd like to. And because you're a kid, I won't point it out to the others I'm dining with, even though my son is staring at it like it's a huge, brown, flourescent light. Must... not.... talk.... about.... mole.

MOLE!

So, bottom line is, I didn't find anything to write about. Sorry to disappoint. Vote for Sanjaya.

Vote for Sanjaya!

After giving it much thought, I'm officially with Howard Stern and votefortheworst.com on the Vote for Sanjaya bandwagon. I didn't actually pick up the phone and vote, nor will I, but I support the effort and encourage others to vote for him (if voting on reality shows is your thing).

The bottom line is that I watch the show for the show, not for the pop star that comes out the other end. I don't own a Ruben Studdard album, or an album from any of the others. I just want the best reality tv. For me, reality tv is best when there's tension, and nothing will create more tension than having Sanjaya stick around. He won't win, because there are too many American Idol fans, but I'd like for him to make it to the final three so I get good tv.

On another American Idol note, what the hell was with the crying girl on last night's show? That was weird.

Vote for Sanjaya! Will you join me?

Monday Milestones

The Undaling seems to hit all of his milestones on the weekends. This might be because Mrs. U and I spend more time concentrating on his physical, mental and emotional development. More likely, it's just that the daycare lady doesn't tell us stuff. Anyway, here are the milestones that the boy reached this past weekend:

Diapers size 3
How do you know when it's time to move up to the next sized diaper? Well, the answer is simple, and quite messy. Once there are at least two terrible incidents involving a breach of the diaper's borders and bodily fluids, it's time to move on. Why two incidents? Because one incident could just be a case of poor diaper fastening or some freak mishap. If it happens twice, throw out the onesie and move up to the next size. Needless to say, we had two messy incidents this weekend, and the Undaling is now a proud size 3.

Gorilla Sitting
Apparently, this is a child-development term. It happens when the baby sits on his own while resting some of his weight on his hands. Once he decides to move one of his hands, he topples over to that side like a Jenga sculpture. I assume that this means he'll soon be sitting up on his own. At this point, he has no idea that he's even doing this, as he doesn't seem to be surprised at all when he falls down (instead, he's probably a little disappointed in his parents for letting it happen).

More Rolling
The boy can now roll in all directions. The newest layer of development is rolling on the changing table. I guess we have to start strapping him down on the changing pad soon like a little baby frankenstein.

Raspberries
He's making his first fart noises with his mouth. This is very funny and he seems to enjoy it. We also enjoy it, but it's only a matter of time before he tries it with a mouthful of some colorful Gerber veggie. Goggles are an option for us, but they might freak him out a little.

High-Chair
Wow, I guess he had an eventful weekend. The boy sat in a high-chair at a restaurant using something called a "Floppy Seat".

Puffs
We gave him dissolving sweet potato puffs for the first time. One of them went too far back in his mouth and gave Mrs. U a scare, so we backed off. I then popped one in my mouth to see how long it takes for them to dissolve. In case anybody cares, it took about 20 seconds to dissolve in my mouth. Factoring in the excess baby saliva, I estimate that it takes 15-18 seconds for it to dissolve in his mouth. We'll try these again soon. Maybe next weekend.

Call Me a Hopeless Romantic

The other night, Mrs. Undaground was toiling away in the kitchen, making us turkey tacos. I always appreciate when she makes dinner, and tacos are a special treat since they involve both cheese and sour cream (two of the 'superfoods' on my official list). To show my appreciation, I like to saunter into the kitchen while Mrs. U is cooking and give her a kiss.

When the time was right, I paused tivo and set down my tumbler of diet black cherry soda. I popped up from the couch and entered the kitchen. There she was, browning the lean turkey in a pan over the stove. My eyes darted over to the counter, and I saw the shredded cheese and sour cream. What a dinner! What a wife!

I leaned over her to kiss the top of her head. This is sometimes an easy target for me because of our considerable height difference. Just as my lips met her bouncy, conditioned hair, the diet black cherry soda spoke. Yes, as my mouth touched my wife's noggin, I burped. Sure, it was a closed-mouth burp, but for some reason it still made a sound, like a small chainsaw running inside a wooden box. It was muffled, but not enough. Quickly, I tried to recover and kept my face planted on the top of her head. In order to compensate for my faux pas, I made a louder kissing noise than I normally would (almost as if I was trying to call a cat).

I pulled back, and my wife slowly turned and looked up at me. I doubt she even noticed the burp, what with all the burping that's been going on in my house lately. Much of our time over the past 5 months has been spent trying to encourage them, not suppress them. Our eyes met and stayed locked for an extra beat. I was waiting for her to say something, but she didn't, so I filled the silence with my own words.

"Mmmm. Tacos. Thanks so much, baby, for making dinner. I love you."

She looked a little confused, as if a tape of the past minute was playing back in her head. Finally, she spoke.

"Did you just burp in my hair?"

"Yea, sorry. That wasn't my original intent."

I really should drink more water.

Daytime Entertainment

Life has certainly changed over the past 5 and a half months. Mrs. Undaground and I have gone from painting the town red to painting the nursery green. Our weekends once consisted of navigating our way through the seedy nightlife of the bar and movie scene. Now, we find ourselves seeking out daytime entertainment, so that our son has an opportunity to see some seedy people of his own.

Over the past four weekends, we've chosen some family-friendly activities to fill our time and entertain the Undaling.

He loves looking around at things, so I'm not sure how much he's actually absorbing, but I hope he someday appreciates our enthusiasm through this transition.

Here are some of the activities we've participated in recently, and how the Undaling enjoyed them.

Garlic Festival. The Undaling posed for photos much of this day. My father-in-law was in town, so it was a two-camera shoot. The boy also practiced his grimace, each time Daddy breathed on him with garlic breath. He has a very polished, impressive grimace and I am proud of him.

Street Painting Festival. More posing for pictures. I was unable to attend, but reports say he enjoyed himself. I'm a little worried that it will take him awhile to get over the confusion this festival caused. For 5 months, he's been going through life thinking streets are for cars. Now, he thinks that it's perfectly acceptable to paint a pretty picture in the middle of the road. Note to self: Explain this to him once he's old enough to understand.

Zoo. The Undaling spent most of the two hours at the zoo staring at his feet. I'm sure we could have accomplished this in our own living room, but it was nice to get some fresh air and perhaps he liked the way the sunlight hit his feet. He did like the peacocks, though, which is ironic since Mrs. U and I are fans of NBC programs such as Heroes, The Office, Scrubs and 30 Rock.

Sea Turtle Day at the Nature Center. We only actually saw one sea turtle that day, but I'm not sure the Undaling was able to see it. On the way out, they were revealing their "mascot", which was a man in a sea turtle costume. Both the boy and I were a little creeped out by this creature. The highlight of the day for the baby was most likely drinking from a bottle in a butterfly garden. Nothing says peaceful like butterflies and gas bubbles.

Public Park. The boy discovered the wonders of sand, and how much fun it is for kids to play with dirt. Someday soon, he'll be running all over the place like the older kids, and I'll chase him around like the other parents. The people watching is tremendous here. I know that I'll be in those parents shoes someday, but I'll savor the time I have to laugh at them as they run after their kids making sure they have a soft spot to land... once they fall.

Happy Daylight Savings, by the way. Hope nobody was late for work today. Personally, I'm happy that I can wear my sunglasses at night again.

50 States

Can you name all 50 states in 10 minutes? Go here to play.

You must spell them correctly in order to get credit. Here's a freebie: Utah.

Chinese New Year

With little fanfare here in South Florida, the Chinese New Year came and went on Feb 18. I actually fell asleep before midnight that night, so I'll have to save the party hats and noisemakers until next year, the year of the Earth Rat.

For anybody keeping track at home, this is the Year of the Pig. I'm still writing the Year of the Dog on all my checks. (see below)

I will celebrate the year of the pig by eating more bacon than ever before. During the year of the dog, we replaced Wrigley's Kibbles and Bits Original Flavor with Kibbles and Bits Meaty. I'm sure that was a treat for her and I haven't had the heart yet to tell her that her Chinese year is over. She's probably getting the hint, though, since my wife and I pay little attention to her these days. In our house, it's most definitely the year of the baby.

This is a David Letterman joke that he does every year.

Nuts

Lately, I've been on quite an almond kick. I've already raved about the Nature Valley Sweet and Salty Nut granola bars. Some of you have told me that you've added them to your weekly shopping list. The almond flavored ones are definitely a cut above the rest.

Oprah told me that almonds are a superfood. They're actually good for you. Because Oprah told me so, I've started having almonds as an afternoon snack. They're quite tasty. Yes, they have a good deal of fat in them, but it's still better than a bag of Fritos.

I've also recently had some delicious ice cream with almonds as a main ingredient. Lately, in my life, almonds are everywhere (and I couldn't be happier about it).

You get the point. Almonds are great. Peanuts are good, too. But if peanuts are a Toyota, almonds are a Lexus.

I rushed home from work one day last week to share an idea with my wife. This was going to be big. We were going to be able to get this patented and start a new life in a mega-mansion. I've been waiting patiently for my "big idea", and it finally came to me while I was enjoying some afternoon almonds.

"Honey. Are you ready for this? I'm going to share a huge idea with you since you're my wife and I know I can trust you. You have to assure me you won't tell anybody until we button it all up and get the ball rolling."

"What is it? Tell me!"

"Everything's about to change in our lives, babe. I promise you that I'll remain a down-to-earth guy, even in the face of extreme wealth and fame."

"What's your idea?"

"You know I love almonds, right?"

"Of course. I saw the $12 bag you bought at the Fresh Market."

"Well, they're a superfood, so I thought it was a wise investment. Turns out, that 12 dollar bag of nuts is going to make us both rich."

"What? How? Tell me the big news."

"Almond butter." As soon as I said it aloud, my appreciation for my own creativity almost made me lose my balance.

My wife was equally impressed and very supportive. "Almond butter. Sounds great. I'd buy some."

That night, we started talking about how we would invest our riches. We both decided that we'd like to take some time off, get a new house, a couple of new cars, then we'd travel to all kinds of cool places that we've seen on the Amazing Race. Finally, we'd return to South Florida and open up a sports bar and grill where we could enjoy tasty sandwiches featuring almond butter, the new peanut butter. We also decided that we'd like to give some of our money to charity, but we don't want our donations to be publicized. We'd be globe-trotting, bar-owning philanthropists. This was our big break.

The next morning I went to work. It would be sad to leave this place, but there was no reason to keep punching a timecard after this incredible invention. I sat down at my computer, and, just to be sure, I typed "almond butter" into Google. Here's what came up:

Results 1 - 10 of about 218,000 for "almond butter"

Oops.

Who knew? Have I led such a sheltered life that I was unaware of this product? Has anybody ever bought a jar of almond butter? I've never seen a commercial for it. Whoever is in charge of marketing the stuff is doing a horrible job and should be fired.

Back to the drawing board, I guess. This doesn't change the fact that I love almonds, but I guess I won't be profiting from them any time soon.

March 1

5 Months Ago

The Undaling is 5 months old today. Time flies, especially during the short month of February. He's now eating oatmeal or rice cereal every night. It seems like he'll start trying to sit up sometime in the next several weeks. His new sound is something that starts with "B". If you're keeping score at home, he's now mastered all of the vowels, the letter "M" and the letter "B". Because I'm an excellent husband, I've been selflessly encouraging him to say "Mama". Of course, I'm still waiting for his little mouth to start saying words that begin with "D".

Big Weekend

I am off of work tomorrow so that I can go to the airport and pick up the Undaground Mom, plus my grandmother and sister. All are in town to say a quick hello to me and Mrs. U, then stare at the baby for 3 days. This will be the third weekend in a row that we're hosting houseguests and all have come to town for the same reason: to visit the "baby exhibit" at the Undaground household. We have no agenda, but I'm sure we'll find some family-friendly activities.

Crystal Ball

Below are the 4 people who will be voted off American Idol tonight. Antonella Barba should be voted off, but unfortunately she will survive because of her naked internet fame.

Guest Song Parody

This song parody was sent to me by a friend and Undaground reader. He has previously commented under the moniker "wetblanket".

The song is sung to the tune of the Ramones "I Want to be Sedated". Enjoy.

I Wanna be Cremated by the REMAINS (of Anna Nicole Smith)

How many how many more hours to go?
I wanna be cremated
Nothing to do, nowhere to go, oh
I wanna be cremated

Just open up some Kingsford, spread it on my clothes
Hurry, hurry, hurry, before I decompose
I can’t feel my fingers, I can’t feel my toes
Oh no oh oh oh oh

Two hundred twenty-four pounds to go
I wanna be cremated
I’m a fat, talentless Marilyn Monroe
I wanna be cremated

Just get me to an oven, put me in an urn
Hurry, hurry, hurry, before I start to turn
Trimspa’s finally working, I’ve got calories to burn
Oh no oh oh oh oh

(refrain)

Sprinkle me over Texas, drop me from a plane
Hurry, hurry, hurry, burn up my remains
Enough Weekend at Bernie’s, I wanna go up in flames
Oh no oh oh oh oh

(refrain)

It’s better in the Bahamas, get me an ashtray with a view
Hurry, hurry, hurry, before I start to stew
No need for reservations, I’ll fly out of the flue
Oh no oh oh oh oh

Ditzy ditzy ditzy ditzy Anna Nicole
I wanna be cremated
No more cable news, no reality shows
I wanna be cremated

My Crystal Ball Needs Tweaking

Oh well, one out of four on the elimination guesses.

I think that the other three I mentioned will be eliminated before the final 12. However, I'm a little concerned that the Sanjaya kid finished 4th among the boys. That just reinforces my belief that a large portion of the American public is stoopid.

In other television news, Survivor has been OK so far, but not great. I'll continue to watch that show as long as it's on the air, much like senior citizens who've stuck with Bob Barker all these years.

Mrs. U and I have been fans of Lost since the show began. Unfortunately, Heroes is now killing the Lost experience for us. The excellence and fast pace of Heroes is really putting Lost to shame and exposing its weaknesses. We've decided to watch Lost until the end of this season, and then have a sitdown family meeting to discuss whether we'll watch Season 4 beginning next fall. Lost always raises more questions than it answers, and I fear that I won't give a crap once they finally reveal the answers. Do I really need to wait until 2009 to have a 2004 question answered? The best thing that could happen to Lost is if they come out and announce that next season is the last, then they can just work toward the climax without stringing people along for years with no end in sight. Take a cue from the BBC, Lost. Sometimes less is more (see the BBC Office and Extras).

Prediction Time

Yes, I know that the Undaground predictions have been pretty lame in the past. If you went with my NFL picks during the divisional round of the playoffs, you might be having some financial problems. Sorry about that. Though my NFL expertise has decayed over the years, my reality television crystal ball is shiny and works well.

Here are the four people who will be voted off American Idol tonight.

For the Love of Mushrooms

Last night, after the baby went down to sleep, my wife and I enjoyed a lovely dinner of raviolis with goat cheese and roasted red peppers, plus some fried mushrooms with a three-cheese dip.

As we were mathematically divying up the mushrooms, 6, 7, 8, our hands met as we both went to grab our ninth and final fried treat. On the baking sheet was two mushrooms, one large and robust and the other, tiny and pathetic. I grabbed the large mushroom and my wife settled for the runt.

"I was going to give you the bigger mushroom anyway."

"Well, I'm twice your weight so I think that makes sense given our daily caloric intake tables."

"But, you know I love mushrooms more than you, so that should count for something." My wife had a point. Or did she?

"Honey, I know that you're a very vocal fan of mushrooms. Maybe I don't express myself in the same way as you, but I consider myself a mushroom-lover as well."

"But I always say how much I love mushrooms," she replied.

"So does that mean that you love them more than me? Should I spend more time talking-up mushrooms? Do I need to get a canvas, paint a giant mushroom and hang it in our living room."

"Maybe you should", she said.

"I love West Virginia football. When I go to a game and sit next to a face-painter, does that make him a bigger fan than me, because he goes the extra mile to show his support?"

"Just eat your huge mushroom and drop it."

"Thanks, by the way, for giving me the huge mushroom. If it makes you feel any better, I just squirted fried mushroom juice down my shirt when I bit into it."

I'm not sure what the point of the mushroom story is. I don't believe there's any deeper meaning than what's on the surface. But I would like to point out that my wife loves mushrooms, and, even though I don't always say it, so do I.

Heroes

The other night, my wife and I watched "Heroes" on Tivo. I'm sure it was frustrating for Mrs. U, because I had to rewind two or three segments at the end after I had fallen asleep on the couch. Eventually, we made it through the show and I deleted it, thinking I had seen it all. I don't really remember much after that, because, as soon as the show was over, I immediately drifted back into a deep slumber on the couch.

About an hour later, Mrs. Undaground tapped me on the shoulder to wake me up. Apparently, at that moment, I sat straight up on the couch, looked at my wife and began an animated conversation.

"Honey, yours and mine should be interchangeable," I said while talking with my hands for emphasis.

"Yours and mine what?" my wife said.

"Our POWERS," I replied as if the answer was obvious.

When Mrs. Undaground began to laugh I realized that I was no longer asleep and I was, indeed, having a conversation with my wife. In the next few seconds as she continued to be amused, I snapped back to consciousness and tried to replay the conversation I was having and figure out exactly what I was talking about. I can only assume I was dreaming that my wife and I were "Heroes" and we both had some sort of superpowers.

Once I completely woke up, we both enjoyed a hearty belly-laugh. It feels good to laugh, and it feels better to know that my wife knows that when I dream, I dream of a world where she and I walk hand in hand, fighting evil together.

I believe that this little incident proved that point to her and put to rest any fears that, when I close my eyes, I dream of Shakira. (My dreams don't lie, and neither do my hips.)

Happy Valentine's Day

Let's take a walk together down memory lane, shall we:

Yesterday was the 6th anniversary of the first date with Mrs. Undaground. Here's an account of that evening that I posted last year, on the 5th anniversary: Click here.

The next day, I set out to find out what Valentine's Day was all about. Don't just go around saying Happy Valentine's Day today without knowing what you're actually saying. Here's the story of Valentine's Day, also from last year's blog post: Click here.

Finally, I'd like to say that Valentine's Day will always be special to Mrs. U and me, and not just because Hallmark tells me it should be. Last year, on this day, I came home with a bottle of wine and stuff for dinner and Mrs. U told me she was pregnant with the Undaling. We didn't drink the wine for about 9 or 10 months. It was officially the first time we changed our dinner plans because of the baby. Tonight, as we enjoy our Outback Steakhouse takeout dinner in front of the television while we take turns making goofy faces at the child, we'll remember that night fondly.

Better late than never

Better late than never
When the Undaling was born, we planned to have him in his own crib by Christmas. Things didn't work out that way in reality. Honestly, none of us were in a hurry to get him out of the room. I enjoyed having him in there, though I knew the day would come (hopefully before his 18th birthday) when he'd have to be in his own space. Good news, he's sleeping through the night now, in his own crib. Yes, as of Saturday night, he's now chilling in his own Seuss room and the transition has been surprisingly easy. I'm very proud of him and I wish I could reward him with something more appealing than a needle in the thigh.

He's getting his 4-month-old immunization shots today. This will probably go down in his own personal history as the day he begins his dislike of doctor's offices. Sorry, boy. I never thought I'd use this phrase, but for the first time, let me tell you: "It's for your own good."

Better late than never
Saturday, I went to Blockbuster to rent a movie and came to the realization that all the new releases are crap. So, I did something I've been meaning to do for awhile and rented the first season of "Arrested Development". I had heard that this was an excellent show, but we never had a chance to watch it since it started before I was a "Tivo-guy" and it was up against the Sopranos. Anyway, if you never saw the show, I urge you to go get the first season on DVD and give it a shot. It is very funny and extremely well-written. We're now halfway through season one and I look forward to eventually watching all three seasons. Like Freaks and Geeks, Ed, and a few other notables, this show was cancelled way too early and deserved a better fate.

Better late than never
Coming off their Grammy performance, the Police are now officially getting back together and touring Canada and the US. Read about it here.

Maybe Next Time

It's time to introduce a brand new adverb to the Undaground blog:

"crappily"

As in, "I participated in a poker tournament with some old people this weekend, and I played crappily".

My favorite adverb is still "swimmingly". However, that word doesn't apply in this case.

At one point, I was the chip leader at my table. Then, my pocket jacks were cracked by a deaf man with three sixes, and I lost most of my stack on one hand. There were actually two deaf guys at my table. They were speaking to each other using sign language throughout the game. Unfortunately, I only know sign language for the lyrics of "Bridge Over Troubled Water", so I couldn't tell if they were cheating, but I have my suspicions.

I'm a good sport, so I did congratulate him after he cleaned me out by signing "sail on silvergirl", combined with a thumbs up. I hope he didn't take offense. If I knew I was going to be playing against the deaf, I would have learned how to sign a Kenny Rogers song. Then, I could have offered him some advice on those three sixes for a taste of his whiskey (I would have told him to fold 'em, by the way).

In other unlucky news, we did not win the lottery Saturday night. Of course, there's a one in forty-two million chance that we did actually win, and that I'm lying right now to lay low until the press conference. There was a brief moment of panic that evening, about three hours before the drawing, when I realized Mrs. U was doing laundry and I had left the lotto ticket in my back pocket. Thankfully, I found the pair of shorts and retrieved the ticket before it was destroyed in the washing machine.... but we didn't win, honestly. (unless I'm lying).