Personally, I want find more ways to exercise. I want to be a better husband. And I want to eat less sweets.

And then there is this here blog.

In the early days of this blog I wrote about parenting and my experiences and thoughts regarding fatherhood with a little bit of everyday life thrown in for good measure. Over the past year or so, I changed the focus and began writing solely about Swee’Pea and TheMonk. My intent was to have some great stories about their toddlerhood that they would have and take with them into adulthood.

But, the danger in only writing about Swee’Pea and TheMonk, I have come to find out, is that there is only so many times I can write about TheMonk talking about poop.

So, I’m going to expand a bit on this blog. I’ll talk about everyday stuff but most notably, I’ll talk about myself. It dawns on me that one of the reasons I write this blog is for my kids to know how much I love them and how much I enjoy being their father. But I also want them to know about me. Who I am. What I like. Dislike.

So in 2009 you’ll see some changes on this here blog. But hopefully for the better. And I promise I won’t write so much about poop.

I bought the 2008 Ford Edge.

I first got introduced to Ford when they asked me to test drive the Ford TaurusX last year. I liked it so I went back. Besides, I had two basic criteria when choosing a car. First, whomever I bought it from, I wanted the company to be around next year and Ford seems to a step ahead of the other American car makers. (We wouldn’t want those three-year warranties to be worth as much as Lehman Brothers stock now would we?) Second, I wanted a stereo that would play my iPod. I know. I’m such a girl. When it comes to cars I have no knowledge of engine stuff whatsoever. Even now, the engine could be powered by chipmunks and some rubber bands and I wouldn’t know it.

Anyway, I bought it on Tuesday and brought it home in the afternoon. When I got there Swee’Pea and TheMonk were napping. TheMonk woke up first and staggered into the living room where I was sitting. He approached me, still a little sleepy, and gave me a hug. I hugged him back and then told him I had a surprise. I had parked the car in our driveway and we have a sliding glass door that leads out to where the car was parked. I took him to the window and showed him his surprise.

The kid went apesh*t.

“Daddy! A NEW CAR! You got a new car!!! I LIKE it Daddy! It’s new! It’s little AND big! (He didn’t know how to say “medium” since it’s bigger than our old Nissan Altima yet smaller than our Pathfinder).

I invited him out to see it and I plopped him down in the front seat and he checked out all the knobs, the dash, the back seats and kept exclaiming, “I LIKE it Daddy!” He was a kid in a candy store and he was so excited to see the car that you would have thought it was Lightning McQueen in our driveway. I finally had to drag him back in by bribing him with crackers. Even while snacking on the crackers, all he could talk about was the car. “Can we go for a ride? When can we go driving? Where’s your old car?”

Soon after, Swee’Pea appeared from her nap. After receiving my hug I asked TheMonk if he wanted to show Swee’Pea the “surprise.” After seeing the excited response from TheMonk, I was looking forward to seeing how excited Swee’Pea would be seeing the new car herself.

“Look, Swee’Pea!” exclaimed TheMonk as he led his sister to the sliding glass door by holding her hand and pulling her. “It’s a surprise… LOOK! DADDY GOT A NEW CAR!” he yelled as he jumped out of the way to give Swee’Pea an unobstructed view. We both watched for Swee’Pea’s reaction.

She stood there, silent for a brief second, taking it all in. I could see her face scan the length of the car and I awaited her surely enthusiastic response to seeing this beautiful car in the drive way.

“Huh.” was her monosyllabic response.

The expression on her face never changed. Within seconds of seeing the car for the first time, she spun around and headed for the couch in the family room, climbed onto the couch and buried herself in a blanket and began watching TV. Leaving TheMonk and I to soak in what had just happened.

I guess a new car just isn’t her cup of tea.

As we recover from our Christmas day chocolate-induced coma, I am pleased that our minimalist approach was a success. TheMonk, got over the fact that Santa didn’t take his sister, and has spent a great deal of time playing with his Talking Robot (from Santa) and his Power Ranger Motorcycle (from mommy and daddy). He has also spent a great deal of time playing with Swee’Pea’s Princess Doll with a Purple, Pink and Yellow dress. Swee’Pea also got a pink leotard, pink tights and a pink tutu from Mommy and Daddy. They also received some very nice gifts from friends and family.

Grandma and Grandpa sent over a very nice cooking set for Swee’Pea with stainless steel pots and pans. (I’m trying not to focus on the fact that Swee’Pea has better cookware than her parents do.) TheMonk also got a Hot Wheels set from Grandma and Grandpa with very modern-looking cars and he’s been playing with those quite a bit. They also got books from Grandmother, large toddler-friendly puzzles from Swee’Pea’s godparents (which they LOVE) and some great books from our friend Deanna (including Ballet Kitty, which Swee’Pea has demanded I read to her about six times since she got the book on Christmas morning.)

The biggest thing is we’ve had to wean the kids off the chocolate since we went a little wild on Christmas Day (The kids each gave Mommy a 1/2 pound of Sees Chocolates as their gift). Swee’Pea knows there is chocolate and she isn’t shy about asking for it. We’re working on her manners and she is often stubborn enough to refuse to say “please.” This often presents an opportunity for TheMonk who will then approach while I am dealing with a screaming Swee’Pea and ask in the most polite way ever, “Daddy, may I have a piece of chocolate, please?”

Next up, New Years! Time to think of some resolutions. I just might have to start with no more chocolate.

Turns out, I just needed to spend some time with my kids.

Have a very Merry Christmas my wonderful readers. May visions of sugar plums dance in your head.

Add this to the holiday season and all we have heard is how much retailers are suffering. People are cutting back on buying stuff and trying to stay “within their means.” I have even read somewhere that some parents are wondering how to actually break it to their teenagers that they can’t get whatever they want.

Now, I’m not trying to minimize what many people are going through in our country. Those who are losing their homes or their jobs have legitimate worries and my heart goes out to those people. But there are even more out there who equate happiness with “stuff” and that breaks my heart too.

I don’t have a whole lot of plans to purchase a bunch of toys for Swee’Pea and TheMonk. They will get their toys they asked from Santa and maybe a toy or two from Mommy and Daddy but I think that’s about all they “need.” In fact, I recently was introduced to a website called rentAtoy.com. It’s like Netflix for toys. You pay a monthly fee and then change out toys at your pace. This appeals to me because you could have a small group of toys that rotate and never have a room so filled with crap that you can’t walk through it without stubbing your toe on something. If this appeals to you, check it out.

Second, and perhaps even more meaningful, is to give to those in need this holiday season. The website Redefine Christmas encourages gifts to charity in lieu of gifts to people. Because I work for a charity and know how much gifts people make mean to those I work with, this appeals to me in the biggest way. The great thing is that whatever your interest, there is a charity out there. (And if your interest happens to be the YMCA and helping kids, and you cannot think of a place to send your money, you can send it my way here.)

Anyway, this is my two cents. All I want to remember is that the “holiday season” isn’t about buying stuff. Ultimately it’s a significant religious moment for a handful of us but it’s also a time for family. A time to count our blessings. A time to be together and share love and friendship. And fortunately these are things that don’t take Visa, Mastercard or American Express.

We had been practicing for the past couple of weeks what they were going to ask Santa for this Christmas. Swee’Pea was certain she wanted a “Princess Barbie with a Pink, Purple and Yellow dress.” TheMonk, on the other hand, was emphatic that he wanted a “Power Ranger Motorcycle.”

TheMonk was so convincing, in fact, that I ran out and bought Santa already had reserved a Power Rangers Motorcycle for TheMonk this year.

That’s when TheMonk got slick. The day we were to visit Santa, he suddenly changed his tune. Instead of Power Rangers Motorcycle, he now wanted a “Talking robot.” Okaaaaaaaay. Now what’s a Santa to do? Sure enough, when he got seated on the big man’s lap, he immediately got down to business and told Santa that he wanted a “talking robot.” The little guy is slick.

When it was Swee’Pea’s turn, not only would she not smile at all (only giving a little smirk when asked to smile) she was not even interested in telling Santa what she wanted. Finally, TheMonk approached Santa and told Swee’Pea that “She wants a Barbie Princess with a Pink, purple and yellow dress!” Swee’Pea nodded in agreement while Santa told Swee’Pea that he only had three of those left but he was going to save one just for her.

Which would be good because I have yet to find a “Barbie Princess with a Pink, Purple and Yellow dress.” I sure hope that Santa guy comes through.

But lately TheMonk’s boy-ness has grown to new levels. For example, just yesterday, the boy took his oversized Dora baseball bat, positioned it at groin-level and shouted, “Look at my penis!” Of course, this was followed by hysterical laughing that all but drowned out the stern talking to given to him by his parents.

Later that night, as we were tucking our little ones into bed, Mommy leaned over to give TheMonk a kiss while he lay in his bed. TheMonk took this opportunity to pull up the tail of his stuffed monkey and pretend that the monkey was farting in his Mommy’s face.

Then, today, TheMonk walks up to me, turns around and begins rubbing his little butt on my leg while laughing out loud.

Lovely Wife and I began talking about our little potty mouth and I was quick to blame the little hoodlums he hangs out with at daycare. Which little punk is putting this kind of filth in my kid’s mind? Whose parent am I going to have to corner and let them know all of their penis talk has not been appreciated in this household.

And then I had a thought.

What if it’s MY kid that’s been doing all the penis talk at daycare? What if the scenes I described above are being played out in households throughout my community and that I will be the one confronted by an angry mob of parents who want to stick it to the Dad of the kid who likes to talk about male appendages, breaking wind and rubbing what his mama gave him against people’s legs.

Hmmmmmmm. Maybe I’ll have Lovely Wife take him to daycare tomorrow.

When the kids were two, and still in their beginning talking phases, they would point at things that I knew they knew and ask, “What’s that?” After a million times of telling the kids that the ball was indeed still a ball, I changed tactics.

“What’s that?” they’d ask, pointing to a car.

“A hippopotamus.” I’d reply.

“Nooooooooo…” they’d laugh, “It’s a car!”

And that became my automatic response for stupid questions. Hippopotamus. Because, really, it’s fun to say hippopotamus. Say it with me… Hip-po-pot-a-mus. See?!

But I digress.

This week I picked the twins up from daycare and as we were walking home I began to ask the kids about their day.

“What did you do today?” I asked.

“Brandon was there!” replied TheMonk. (This means their favorite friend in the world, who comes on Monday, Wednesday and Friday to daycare was there and they played with him all day.)

“Well, what did you do with Brandon?” I asked.

“We played Legos.” replied Swee’Pea.

“You did?! What did you make?” I inquired.

“Tall towers.” said Swee’Pea

“And a hippopotamus.”