Step One: Maternal Respect (Got It Made, Got It Made, Got It Made)

Confession time: I love hot moms.  I've lived with my son for four years now and have no valid excuse to not be moody and disheveled, so when one sees a lovely lady that also happens to have a kid or two in tow, she is the real deal.  As it so happens, I am married to a hot mom.  She stops me in my tracks daily just by walking in the room, and sometimes with "the look" when I make a corny joke or try to steal a kiss.  On top of that, she's a teacher, and I am "hot for teacher" as Van Halen would say in their near-infinite wisdom (we just can't let their Gary Cherone experiment slide).

Van Halen: Ruining Quasi Sweet and Romantic Blogs from 1996-1999 and apparently 2012.

My wife and I will have been married for eight years on January 24th.  That's like 65 million years in celebrity marriage years.  Not only that, we dated for six years before we got married, which means we were an old married couple before the nuptials.  That may seem like a long time, especially when we know couples who have decided to marry within weeks or months of starting their relationship, but we were high-school sweethearts.  I met my wife on a school trip to New Orleans with the Beta Club as an eleventh-grader.  She was pretty awesome even then, and even offered to buy me a crawfish-themed tie if I would go to the Beta Club Convention Dance with her.  I had to decline however because the Spawn cartoon was coming on HBO at the hotel that night, which had little to no bearing on my ability to dance terribly.

Spawn fights the supernatural and apparently makes me an idiot.

She started dating one of my good friends, then upgraded to yours truly, and we've never looked back.  I proposed on Valentine's Day of 2003 (I'm nothing if not unoriginal).  We were brilliantly aware that all restaurants would be busy on Valentine's, especially the love palace that is Red Lobster, so we decided to have a nice homemade meal at my place.  She made chicken cordon-bleu, and I hid her ring box in the freezer.  After she put my plate in front of me, I asked for some ice for my drink (get it?  ice?).  As only she can, she looked at me like I was an idiot and said, "You don't put ice in your drinks."  She begrudgingly went to the freezer, opened it, closed it, and asked "Are you sure?"  I had never been more sure of anything.

I didn't know she took pictures with her eyes open.  A rare treat for my readers.

We married at what many called a fun ceremony.  A couple of my groomsmen showed up in drag, wearing dresses that matched the red of the bridesmaids' dresses, and another was close to plastered.  He was the one that every time the pastor mentioned "the ring" would whisper "the one ring to rule them all".  We went to Disney World for our honeymoon, which lost the right to call itself "The Happiest Place On Earth" when they upgraded us to a suite with two twin-sized beds.  It was a suite however, so we went with our Lucy and Desi Honeymoon.

Pictured: Unbridled Newly Married Romance

We had that newlywed period where we did all the newlywed stuff: rent an apartment (in a complex where several Hispanic men were decapitated a couple years later), buy a house (with angels and desert landscapes painted on the wall with acrylics), and get snowed-in at a mountaintop chalet in Gatlinburg (where we totally did NOT break the ash shovel for the fireplace trying to dig our car out of the drive).

We also did not break a dish.

Before long, we felt that longing for something that was missing in our home.  After we bought the new television, we got a new desire to contribute to the gene pool.  I'm on board for just about anything that results in partaking of the marital fruit, so in October of 2007, we came home with Sean.  In the last four years, I have learned that not only is my wife talented, caring, smart, funny, cool, and beautiful, she is also a tremendous mother.  She loves Sean with all her heart, and it shows in her every look and action, unless he's being a jerk.  I am beyond fortunate that my son will grow up with a mother that loves him and teaches him but does not put up with his bullcrap.  He will be a better person, a smarter person, and a more loving person because of her.  I am extremely lucky just to be a part of it.  And did I mention she is a certified hottie?

Seriously.  Certified.  And yes, I did award this.  I will happily help other ladies achieve certification.  No charge.

I'm not sure that I can really show Sean how to adequately appreciate his mother.  I'm not sure that I can adequately appreciate her.  She's that awesome.  All the adventures of the last 8 years of matrimony have left me wanting more, which is good because I don't plan on going anywhere!  It's cliche, but every year is better than the last.  From December of 2010 through 2011, we've both had our ups and downs, but it's been one of my favorite years with her together.  One year has given me more fantastic memories than I have any right to, and when combined with the previous years and the years to come, I'm not sure what to do with myself.

I'm sure I'll think of something.

Let me conclude with some song lyrics that remind me of my beautiful bride by my favorite band: Tom Petty and The Heartbreakers.

Here Comes My Girl
But when she puts her arms around me,
I can, somehow, rise above it
Yeah man, when I got that little girl standing right by my side,
You know, I can tell the whole wide world, shove it!

Even The Losers
Baby, even the losers get lucky sometime
Even the losers keep a little bit of pride
They get lucky sometime

Happy Anniversary, Katie.  Thanks for Everything!  Julie Newmar. 

Step One: Proper Attire (or The Adventures of ZZ Top in the Land of the Jeggins)

When one is bedecked in a clean shirt, new shoes, silk suit, white gloves, and black shades, it is with absolute certainty that eligible ladies will hurry to your immediate vicinity.  You don't need a reason why, even if you have no idea as to your destination.  As long as you have everything you need, you will "do them in" as soon as you emerge from your domicile.  Hopefully the cost of looking nice will be offset by the thickness of your wallet.  If you look right, you might just be looking for love.  Let us all reflect on the wisdom of the Trinity of Style and Swag.

Lo and Behold, she doth have legs and know how to operate them.

 A first impression can make all the difference in the world.  Even those of us that are not fashionistas judge others by the way they are dressed.  It's sad, but I can remember being sucked in by those around me into making fun of someone's outfit in school.  To be fair, if you are in high school and your shirt or skirt look a lot like aluminum foil then you may be bringing it on yourself.  I would say that in the last two or three years, I have become more conscious of how I dress.  I was very by-the-book in my work clothes, but recently I've been more mindful of all those things that What Not To Wear teaches us: splash of color, clothes that fit properly, no holes in your socks, and fewer shirts featuring cartoon characters.

Looks pretty stylish to me...

If I had to give credit to one person for my attitude shift on fashion, it would have to be my wife.  I mean, you kind of have to go along with someone that writes their own fashion blog (hemsforher.blogspot.com).  To my core, I am a jeans and tee shirt guy.  That's all good for the most part, but work and nights out require a little more.  When the weather starts to cool off, I'm all about sweater vests.  As a big guy, I get hot really easily.  A vest keeps me cool, and makes it really easy to roll up the old sleeves when it's time to throw down on some ad sales.  If I do wear a full sweater, those sleeves are rolled up before I step out the door.  I'm totally willing to have my wife dress me too.  If she likes me in something, you best believe I wear it as often as I can: black tree tee, skinny tie, grayish-blue jeans that got compliments from a couple ladies the first time I wore them (probably due to them being just the right degree of tight).

I'm sure this isn't far from what it looked like (minus the awesomeness of Conan O'Brien though...)

If only you could see my fashion history.  I'll stand up and admit that there are photos of me around the age of 12 (and already taller than everyone in my immediate family) in blue & pink shorts and a pink shirt with my name airbrushed across it in bright blue (at least it all matched).  Offset that with my green and black fanny pack, and I was ready to strut!  I can remember wearing white shorts and a purple golf shirt to high school when I was a freshman or sophomore.  If I remember correctly, I took a girl to the movies in high school, and even though it was casual, I showed up in jeans and an untucked golf shirt (with a zipper at the collar instead of buttons no less).  I even remember seeing how cute she looked when I got to her house and vaguely thinking that I probably should have worn one of my awesome bolo ties.

Nothing says "Chick Magnet" like wearing a dreamcatcher on a shoelace around your neck.

And somehow she agreed to see me again.  If I had the minimal fashion sense then that I do now, then it would have been a totally different deal.  I would have at least looked like I ought to be taking her out.  Of course I probably would have done better than a pizza joint and "Men In Black" too...

Let's just forget this.  I was dressed like James Bond, we ate sushi, and we saw a classier flick... like Ace Ventura.

Thank the Lord, my wife didn't seem to care too much how I dressed when we met.  Slowly but surely, she turned me around.  So now I need to take what I have learned and pass it on to my son.  We've done a lot better with him already, but he's barely out of the stage where all he wanted to wear was "soft pants."  We get him all decked out as often as we can when appropriate.  Sure, he's gone to church in jeans and a tee shirt before, but we've made up for it too.  At his kindergarten's Christmas Program this year, we had him all decked out in black corduroy pants, red and white shirt, and grey sweater vest.  As we went inside he said, "I can't wait to show everybody my style!"  He really looked great this last weekend as the ring bearer for my sister's wedding.  He was very proud of his "fancy clothes," even though he had abandoned the tie and suspenders by the start of the ceremony.  It's nice to think that he will be in style when all the ladies start beating his door down, and when he hits the office in his sweet job that pays so much I can retire.  It's the head start I never got.

EVERY...

GIRL'S...

CRAZY...

BOUT A...

SHARP...

DRESSED...

MAN... I guess they can't all be winners...

Step One: Being Appreciative (or Is Hasbro Afraid These Toys Will Come To Life to Kill Us All?)

With the Holiday Season over, and the New Year beginning, this seems like a good time for a lesson we all need to hear sometimes about appreciating what we have.  This may be an especially timely topic if you believe the famous Mayan calendar written by Nostradamus after watching An Inconvenient Truth is correct in telling us that the end of the world is coming in less than 12 months.  Forget for a moment that the Mayan calendar only went in 5000 year cycles and simply starts over each time.  The new toys are open and mostly operational, and the "I Want"'s have started in our home again, so I've got to impart the wisdom of appreciation while I still can.  If I don't, I may have another self-absorbed, ungrateful d-bag on my hands.

I've never seen someone seem to care less about the only reason we know who they are.

My parents videotaped just about every major part of our childhood.  They've got kindergarten recitals, tee ball games, and over a decade's worth of Christmas mornings.  There is not much of my childhood that has not been documented on VHS.  The only thing they don't have is a tape of that time I found a book in the attic and ended up riding a really long flying terrier mutt in an effort to stop The Nothing.

Behold the fearsome..........dragon?

One of the things that always bugs me when I watch the Christmas videos is how my brother, my sister, or I always asked "Is that all?"  Even with mounds of wrapping paper, boxes, and Thundercats piled up around us, it wasn't enough.  We would finish unwrapping the gifts from Santa, Mom, and Dad, and before we really noticed what was in the package, we were asking when our grandparents would be there.  Even the things we had wanted "more than anything else in the whole world" didn't hold our attention when more was on the horizon.  With a society wanting more and more for less and less, it's only a matter of time before we've become an army of memes.

GIVE ME ALL THE GARBAGE PAIL KIDS!! 

Hurray, I used a meme!  I've always wanted to do that.  Anyway, we put a premium on any gifts my son receives.  We tried with reasonable success to get him to say "Thank You" after each gift he opened at Christmas, and we made sure he knew who gave him each gift before he opened it.  He rarely gets a gift, no matter how small, without earning it somehow.  If he's good at the dentist or if a leprechaun covered in four-leaf clovers has a rabbit's foot at the end of one leg with a horseshoe on it and my son poops in the potty, he may get a small present, but he has to earn it.  When he acts up, the first toy to get taken away is the last toy he received.  I love to see the joy on his face when he gets something, but I refuse to reward him on a regular basis for sharing my DNA. 

Whew, that could get expensive!

Although I love for Sean to get things, I loathe opening packages for him.  Back when I was little, if you got a new He-Man figure (let's say for argument's sake you get the least articulated figure of all time, Ram Man), all you had to do was peel the plastic bubble from the cardboard backing.  These days all the toy companies are run by people who believe the real world is a cross between the movies Small Soldiers and Child's Play.  Between the twine, plastic braces, rubber bands, strings, tape, and padlocks, it takes ten minutes to get a Spider Man car out of the box for a bouncing, impatient four-year old.

Hang on, son, I'm reading Spongebob's instructions.  Ok, left 42, right twice to 16....

In the spirit of all this, allow me the opportunity to appreciate some things right now.  I appreciate my family on both my side and my wife's side.  We have a loving and supportive family, and we are extremely lucky.  I appreciate my wife's love, hard work, and even the needle she uses to burst my balloon when needed.  I appreciate my son for keeping me on my feet and passing the blame to my wife when he passes gas.  I appreciate the "things" I have, both necessary and unnecessary.  I appreciate my job that has brought me in contact with a host of wonderful people no matter how much I want to climb the walls most days.  I appreciate the hardworking crew responsible for Gears of War 3 for giving me something to do on Wednesday nights with my friends.  I appreciate all the voters who kept Alabama at #2 for the National Championship Game next week.  I appreciate that those that didn't vote for Alabama live far from my pimp hand.  And finally, I appreciate you for reading this little venture of mine.  I also appreciate all of you who send me $20 for no good reason, and also Soupy Sales.

Get it?

Pictures are from the following:
Kristen Stewart- mystylebuzz.com
Falcor- warriorwriters.wordpress.com
Clone Troopers- starwars.wikia.com
Safecracker- planarchy.com
Soupy Sales- englishstuff.org