It's Christmastime at Black Creek

Send your own ElfYourself eCards

Seriously.

Okay... so, this is Jackson again. First of all, I haven't felt very well lately. Actually, after the dramatic episode at the Websters' where I projectiled the contents of my bottle all over their couch and carpet, I've been "feeling" fine. However, just keep in mind that I AM sick. Something is wrong. The doctor and lab are investigating the culprit. Things are not right in my body. I understand that changing diapers isn't the best job in the world. And when the diapers do not fully contain the toxins, I understand that this may a distasteful cleanup procedure. I also am told that I get a bit sweaty in my sleep. This may be normal, or maybe it's strange,

HOWEVER...

Is it really necessary that the first time my mom bothers to "get creative" with a picture of me, this is the end result!?!


PIGPEN? REALLY?

I'm alive!

Hi. This is Jackson. I'm breaking into this blog. It's totally unfair to be the second child. Do I have a blog? no. Do I have fun Photoshoped pictures of myself conquering the world? no. Do you realize that I'm 10 months old and it wasn't until a month ago that my mom took the pictures of Isaiah off the walls of my nursery. I mean, really! Okay, that's all I have to say right now. I think Isaiah is almost done brushing his teeth and then he might head this way and see what I'm doing. I'll talk to you all later!

Izilla

It's a bird! It's a plane! It's a 300 foot tall baby!

Self Defense

I've been learning about self-defense recently.

Considering about 98% of the world population is bigger than me, I figured it might be necessary. It's rather interesting, actually. I guess the most important element is to be able to run away. I'm still working on that one. I can make my way from one side of a couch to another in a bit of a side step, and I can even transition from one piece of furniture to another, but I think I still have a way to go to be able to outrun someone.... or, er... run.

Anyway, I thought I'd share some of the more important concepts I'm learning. Stomping on your attacker's feet (and then running) could be effective if you weighed more than 23 pounds. It hasn't worked too well for me, yet. However, I'm finding a lot of success with my sparring partners in the facial region. A good startling poke in the eyes (called the tiger claw) can be a great move. I have also found that hair can be used to control a person pretty well. You can even grab it and use it like reins used to steer a horse.

I do have a new favorite, however. Say you happen upon a bearded vagabond that smells like cheese and eggnog. I found that a quick tug to the small hairs of the upper-beard region can pack quite the wallop.

I will caution you, however... do not attempt these moves on sparring partners who happen to be holding you at the time... you very well could be dropped the equivalent of two stories.

Me2

I need to apologize for not writing for a while. I've been busy. I've learned that there is this whole new realm to my world that I'd been oblivious to. I CAN MOVE! and GET THINGS! Really I can get just about anywhere I want, which is way better than laying on a blanket for the rest of my life. I especially like chasing the dog. I can climb him like a mountain and hug him and stick my fingers in his mouth and eyesockets. We're buds.
Speaking of buds, have you met my best friend yet? I don't think everyone's as lucky as I am to have a best friend that goes everywhere with you. He went to visit Grandma and Grandpa in North Carolina with me - we even had the same layover in Atlanta! The other day we were playing in the bathroom and he poured water from the faucet all over my pants and socks! Oh well! It was fun! Anyway, Mom took a picture of us playing today and put it here for you to see. Isn't he cute?

sunday morning comics

click on the comic to see it bigger...

Thought you might want to see this...

Rock dog

A while back I went to visit some friends of mine. It was fun. I got to see my friend Braydon again and met his sister Brianna. My ear was hurting and I was a bit out of sorts, though. Maybe it was all the base bumping from the Rousseau's subwoofers that night. I don't know. Anyway, here's me trying to teach Brianna some dance moves...

Anyway, ever since, I've been suffering from a bit of a writers block. I think it was the ears. They've been bothering me for a month. So, sorry for the lack of updates...

So you know my dog? I like him. He's pretty cool. Until recently he hasn't been much of a fan of me, though. He used to constantly give me the cold shoulder. That's been changing the past couple days, though. I think it's the bonding we recently went through together. We both got our first haircuts. We all know I needed mine, but Rock is a different story. See, Dad takes him out in the woods and fields and marshes a lot, especially in the fall. What usually ends up happening is he comes back smelling like Aunt Monica's fish tank did when she left Fred the Wonderfish in it for a year with no food or cleanliness while she was off galavanting around Thailand. (Okay, that or Grandma Rohrs' green drink) All this to say... he stinks and is covered in burrs (not Buhrs. Those are relatives) and gets the beginnings of a rastafarian dreadlock do going. So, without further explanation, here's my first haircut...












And here's Rock's...












Dad said we couldn't afford a groomer because college costs are on the rise.

Needless to say, we're pals now. Traumatic experiences have a tendency to lead to lifelong friendships.

I need a new "do"

I'm disturbed. I just found some information that bothered me quite a bit. Some of you may have been aware for a while, and if that's the case, why didn't you tell me!?!
So, there is this show that has been on the air for a while that seems like it's for kids, but really it isn't... it's called the Simpson's and they're into tricking people like that. For instance, people think Bart is the main character. He's not. It's Homer. Anyway, there's this character on there named Ralph Wiggum. Ralph isn't the sharpest knife in the drawer. He picks his nose, he says stupid things like "my cat's breath smells like cat food" and "me fail english? That's unpossible." Now maybe you're thinking, "Isaiah, take it easy on the poor kid." I would. I'd think through things like: maybe he wasn't blessed with a very high IQ, but he has other great qualities - like his ability to balance jello jigglers on top of each other. Maybe he'll go far with that. Those guys who put Mentos in 2 liters of diet coke have already been on Letterman. I'd think about his personality and remember the time that he was there for someone when their cat got electrocuted. I'd think through all these things... if he were real. But he's not. He's a character. They want him to be that way.
And this is where I come to my main point... Why are my parents allowing my haircut to look like his? Are they unaware, or is it some cruel joke? Do they think I'm not capable of doing anything about it? Because I'm rolling over now! I'm catching up fast with my motor skills. Soon I'll be cutting my hair myself, like it or not. Which brings me to my second point...

This made me think I should do some research into some more acceptable popular hairstyles... Here are a few I tried. Let me know what you think.
The "Hawk"
The "Superman"
The "Comb-over"
The "Ice"
The "Afro" ... okay, I couldn't quite make this one happen. There seems to be something wrong with the texture of my hair.
The "Macchio"
The "Alfalfa"
The "Feather"
The "Choirboy"

I really wanted to try for a mullet, but the hair on the back of my head keeps rubbing off. Is that a common problem?

For the record...

Dad's the kid on top. I'm the one on the bottom. I think I got his belly. Is that a trait that passes down from generation to generation? Can I blame him, or should I take some responsibility for my actions and cut back on the Twinkies? I like Twinkies.

Your comments welcome...

What do these photos say to you?... and who do you think they are of?

...consider me Miles Davis

So apparently my dad and I have a lot more in common than just my ears and huskiness...

Let's Rock

Do you know how hard it is to make the perfect "I'm a cool guitar player look?" My dad has been holding me up in front of the mirror to help me practice, though I must admit that his look has more of a "Look at me, I sit in a cubicle all day" feel to it.

Carolina on my mind

I just got back from visiting family in North Carolina. I've learned a thing or two about my family. Let me give you the rundown...

Asheville

This is my Grandma Dougherty...
She and Grandpa Dougherty were visiting Aunt Monica and Uncle Dave in Asheville at the same time we were. Grandma Dougherty will let me get away with anything... case in point with the drool running down her arm. However she seems to have this quality that makes people want to tease her. I don't know... maybe it's the fact that she turns a peaceful hike in the woods into a comedy routine where there are special "Margie" traps around every corner that everyone else seems immune to...

This is my Grandpa Dougherty...
He likes Afghanistan and speaks Farsi. He has lots of friends who are refugees from Afghanistan. Here's his blog if you want to check it out. He also likes to say funny words like "blinkadator" and "bumbershoot." I'm not sure what bumbershoot means, but I think I did it in my diaper.

This is my Aunt Monica...
She's a free spirit. She cares much more about stopping and smelling the roses than completing daily tasks like,... oh... moving into a new house. That can wait. There are hikes to go on, rhododendrons to find and waterfalls to slide down. She's an ER nurse and has all kinds of crazy stories about the ways people hurt themselves. She's traveled all over the world and speaks Thai, Russian and kitchen spanish. And she doesn't like authority. She gives me lots of kisses.

This is my Uncle Dave...
He talks a lot. And he's very sentimental. I guess he can't get rid of his old t-shirts until they literally fall off because he values all the memories he's had while wearing them. And even then, he can't throw them away. He retires them to a box. I guess sometimes he visits the box and talks with his t-shirts about their days following the Greatful Dead and Phish when he looked like the unibomber.

This is Sakhi...
Sakhi is Grandma and Grandpa Dougherty's exchange student from Afghanistan. Here he just got done sliding down a waterfall with Daddy when this picture was taken. Sakhi likes soccer. He likes all sports, really, but he really likes soccer. Sakhi just went back to Afghanistan. I hope I get to see him again. He was fun to be around.



Durham

This is my Grandma Gensic...
She loves me lots and lots but I don't get to see her very much. She just got her gallbladdder out and is getting a much deserved chance to rest while recovering. (Her boss works her like a dog.) She took me to the ocean. More on that later. Grandma likes flowers, but especially irises. Grandma Rohrs says she's a dare-devil when on a tube at the lake.

This is Grandpa Gensic...
He is an artiste. He's funny and comes up with all sorts of silly ideas. He likes riding his motorcycle and he likes going to breakfast. So needless to say he likes riding his motorcycle to breakfast. Here he is with one of his paintings. Anyone want to buy some? He's looking to sell... Here are a couple more.

This is my sweet Aunt Katy...
She's really cool and amazingly gifted. She came home with us from North Carolina, so I get to see her a lot right now. I'm glad about that because she's going to be done with high school in a year and then who knows what she'll do or where she'll go. She went water skiing the other day with us at the lake and got up on her first try! I love my Aunt Katy.

I'm still waiting for Grandma to send me a photo of me and Najia.
Najia is from Afghanistan and has been in the US two years now. It would be very dangerous for Najia if she were to return to Afghanistan. Najia really likes me and I like her, too. She was teaching me how to say hello and count to 5 in Farsi while I was with her. I hope I get to see her a lot more.

Let it turn to something else

So, I don't think Bailey likes me anymore. And Myah thinks I have issues. Let it turn... Let it turn...

Wish you were here

I love the lake. The warm sun shining down... the breeze blowing my hair... the sound of jet skis... need I say more?

Memoriable Day

I know what you're thinking... it's not really a good idea to wear a scarf around a propeller. And I suppose that you would be right, but I'm just not a turtleneck guy. Maybe I should try a balaclava.

Anywho... last week I decided to take Bailey on a little ride to see some of history. Being Memorial Day and all. We flew to Hawaii to see Pearl Harbor. Okay, the Pearl Harbor thing was more of a front. I really just wanted to take her to the beach to play in the surf and build sandcastles.

Afterwards, per Grandpa Gensic's suggestion, we stopped by DeBrand Fine Chocolates and I let her take her pick. I tend to prefer the hot caramel and raspberry chocolates, but you know women. She went straight for the truffles.

I've got game

So, I know you are all wondering how the date went.

(Thanks for the ideas, John. Where were the rest of you?)

Bailey and I met up at my house. She's a modern woman and wanted to express her independence, I guess. She looked great. I decided to pull out all the stops and tug on her female heartstrings and... that's right... take her garage sale-ing. (I know. I'm a stud.) We walked around in our snuglis for a couple of hours in the slightly cool spring sunshine. Then we went back to my place to grab some lunch. (Thanks moms.)

In fact, we had such a great time, I decided to take a risk and see if she wanted to hang out again that night. Once again, she got all dudded up in her evening wear. Casual, but with a touch of class. With her jeweled bracelet and her glue-on bow, she was stunning.

I was wearing a slightly suggestive onesie with my studly athletic pants.

We sat around the table to a steak dinner, grilled to perfection, then hung out on the couch and watched our parents as entertainment. It was a great night. We even stayed out a bit past our curfews. We laughed... we cried... it was great.

Here are a couple pictures from our night out.




I'm thinking about asking her out again next weekend. Any tips for a second date?

Busy

These first few weeks have been far busier than I imagined. As much as you hear in utero that things will be different after you make that trip down the birth canal, the adjustment is tough. For instance, it has taken me several weeks to perfect the art of peeing on myself while my dad is trying to change my diaper. You should hear the hysterical tone in his voice when he yells "Help!!!" in mom's general direction. I don't recall when help became a three syllable word, but he somehow makes it work.

I've also been practicing yodeling. I'm getting quite good at it and am looking forward to an international tour in which I'll be visiting Sweden, Switzerland, Germany and the Democratic Republic of the Congo, formerly known as Zaire. Here's a shot of me with my alpenhorn.



I also have a date this week and was wondering... where should I take her? Let me know if you have any suggestions.