Last night Will and I were in the hot tub at Mavis and John's place, watching basketball. During a timeout we saw a commercial for Jos. A. Bank advertising a Black Friday sale. I remarked that I might be interested in buying a new suit.
"But Daddy, that's a lot of money," Will said.
True, it's more than we spend on your clothes, but they're high quality clothes that will last a long time. Will seemed to approve, with a caveat.
"Okay, just don't spend my college money on it."
Thursday, November 26, 2009
Sunday, November 22, 2009
Are we there yet?
Will has taken the classic back-seat mantra, "Are we there yet?" And hopped it up on steroids.
In the last 10 minutes, I've heard the following:
Did they stretch out the road?
Is the world longer since we left? I know it didn't take this long on the way there.
There is not a single thing that I recognize. Does daddy really know the way?
I'm so tired and I'm 69 zillion steps frpom my bed right now.
All of this for a 20 minute drive from the lake house.
I bet on Thanksgiving he gives thanks for that 5 hour drive to the U.P.
In the last 10 minutes, I've heard the following:
Did they stretch out the road?
Is the world longer since we left? I know it didn't take this long on the way there.
There is not a single thing that I recognize. Does daddy really know the way?
I'm so tired and I'm 69 zillion steps frpom my bed right now.
All of this for a 20 minute drive from the lake house.
I bet on Thanksgiving he gives thanks for that 5 hour drive to the U.P.
Saturday, November 21, 2009
We're going exclusive
Attention loyal readers of Raising Tappas:

In the interest of being the most responsible parents possible, we are going to be closing this blog up ... to general passers-by. We want to keep sharing the joys of parenthood and general Will and Charlie follies with friends and family, but just you -- friends and family.

So, starting in December, Raising Tappas will be password-protected. Right now we're not sure exactly how this will work, but it from what we can tell you will need an emailed invitation from us in order to view this blog.
To make sure you don't miss a single photo, anecdote or joke, email Jana at jana.tappa@gmail.com as soon as possible, and let her know your primary email address. Once we have compiled the addresses of everyone we think will want to read this, we will email invites and the blog will be close to "outsiders."
Don't delay, email Jana today!
Friday, November 20, 2009
Girl trouble
About a month ago, I promised my 11-year-old neighbor Megan that I’d take her to the see New Moon when it opened on Nov. 20.

Somehow, the hype escaped me and when I went to get tickets a week in advance, I had to go to three theaters before I finally got the tickets for the midnight opening.
She was so excited, she got us matching t-shirts.
Well, guess what? Midnight Nov. 20th was about 10 hours ago. I thought my tickets were for tonight.
As I realized this morning that I no longer had legit tickets for the biggest moving opening of my young friend’s life, I felt like one of those parents who didn’t get the Nintendo or the Cabbage Patch Doll in time for Christmas morning.
However, I was able to get tickets to the 4:50 showing on the megascreen. So I'm leaving work early.
And now I’m going to start breathing and thanking god for showing a lot of wisdom in not blessing me with a girl.
Way too much drama.

Somehow, the hype escaped me and when I went to get tickets a week in advance, I had to go to three theaters before I finally got the tickets for the midnight opening.
She was so excited, she got us matching t-shirts.
Well, guess what? Midnight Nov. 20th was about 10 hours ago. I thought my tickets were for tonight.
As I realized this morning that I no longer had legit tickets for the biggest moving opening of my young friend’s life, I felt like one of those parents who didn’t get the Nintendo or the Cabbage Patch Doll in time for Christmas morning.
However, I was able to get tickets to the 4:50 showing on the megascreen. So I'm leaving work early.
And now I’m going to start breathing and thanking god for showing a lot of wisdom in not blessing me with a girl.
Way too much drama.
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
A lie-down type of guy
Tuesday night Jana and I had a parent-teacher conference with Will's kindergarten teacher. It was a nice time, we always enjoy talking about our children with the fine people they spend their days with.At one point, his teacher showed us some of the stories Will has been writing as he works on his penmanship. You probably can't make this out, but Will's story in the picture says something like "Last night my dad watched the Badger game."
I don't know if you can see it because of the lackluster picture quality, but in the illustration accompanying Will's story, he drew a picture of me lying on the floor watching TV. Yep, that's about right.
Note the black on the top. Will started his story at the top of the page, where there were no lines. he then shifted his story to the lines below and covered the originals up with black crayon -- the ceiling. When asked why he only wrote about what his dad did and not him, Will told his teacher he didn't have enough time.
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Football fever
One of the fun things about Will getting older is I can take him to sporting events. His performance, we'll call it, has been incosistent. At his first Badger football game he was just about perfect. At the Waupaca-Hayward third round playoff game, which we attended with our friend Jared (top), he spent most of his time playing tackle football with eighth graders.
At the Menomonee Falls-Appleton North Division 1 semifinal in Oshkosh, where we met Nick, Larry and Natoli, he was, shall we say, squirrely. Giving him a bag of Skittles probably didn't help, but he had ants in his pants from the time we got there.
It's still a lot of fun, and I hope he (and eventually Charlie, too) enjoys these times as much as I enjoyed going to games with Dad when I was a kid.
Pardon the poor picture quality, they were taken with my phone.


At the Menomonee Falls-Appleton North Division 1 semifinal in Oshkosh, where we met Nick, Larry and Natoli, he was, shall we say, squirrely. Giving him a bag of Skittles probably didn't help, but he had ants in his pants from the time we got there.
It's still a lot of fun, and I hope he (and eventually Charlie, too) enjoys these times as much as I enjoyed going to games with Dad when I was a kid.
Pardon the poor picture quality, they were taken with my phone.


Sunday, November 15, 2009
Get in the zone -- AutoZone
On Saturday Will and I were in Oshkosh to go to a high school football game, and we were driving
down the street after eating dinner at Dairy Queen. We were listening to the Badger hockey pregame show on the radio when an ad for AutoZone came on the air.
"We just passed an AutoZone," Will remarked casually.
You all know Will. He says silly things. He doesn't seem to pay attention to his surroundings when driving. And while he loves words and is learning a lot every day in kindergarten, he certainly doesn't know how to read yet.
But I looked in the rearview mirror, and sure enough, we had just passed an AutoZone on Murdock Street in Oshkosh. I was dumbfounded.
"You're right, buddy!" I said. "How did you know that?"
"Well, I saw a sign and the first letter was A and the last part of the word had a Z," he said.
Good logic, but using those criteria the sign could have said "AuctionZip" or "AppleZebra." But he used context and guessed correctly that the sign said AutoZone.
He's a sharp one.
down the street after eating dinner at Dairy Queen. We were listening to the Badger hockey pregame show on the radio when an ad for AutoZone came on the air."We just passed an AutoZone," Will remarked casually.
You all know Will. He says silly things. He doesn't seem to pay attention to his surroundings when driving. And while he loves words and is learning a lot every day in kindergarten, he certainly doesn't know how to read yet.
But I looked in the rearview mirror, and sure enough, we had just passed an AutoZone on Murdock Street in Oshkosh. I was dumbfounded.
"You're right, buddy!" I said. "How did you know that?"
"Well, I saw a sign and the first letter was A and the last part of the word had a Z," he said.
Good logic, but using those criteria the sign could have said "AuctionZip" or "AppleZebra." But he used context and guessed correctly that the sign said AutoZone.
He's a sharp one.
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Time is not on my side
Perhaps I should be happy we got this far into Will's school career before disaster struck. This morning we forgot his backpack.

As I told him to have a great day and make sure he grabbed his backpack, oh, the horror. It was not in the car. We looked at each other with huge eyes and I sensed that tears may start to fall.
Let me back up a bit. Well, maybe not just a bit ... let me back up about 28 years. I had a homework assignment to color code a map. My teacher had been very clear that we were to use color pencils, not crayons.
As soon as Bus #13 departed from Pineview Elementary, I realized that I'd left my color pencils at school. My stomach dropped to the floor, my hands and feet got tingly and my eyes swelled white-hot as I unsuccessfully fought back tears.
I'm sure there was some reasonably solution (probably involving my cousin Rona who lived down the road and who was in the same class as me). But, now, nearly 30 years later, I don't remember the resolution. I just remember the panic.
This morning, when Will and I realized his backpack was not in the car, oh, how I knew his pain.
He was wondering how he could be ready when the bell rang. Would he get in trouble? What would he tell the teacher?
Before his tears could well any more, I announced a plan.
"You go into your classroom. I'll go get your backpack and bring it to you right away."
"WHAT? NO! I can't go in without my backpack! I'll go with you."
"No, you can't, you'll be late for school."
He looked at me like I was crazy to suggest he go into the school sans backpack.
I smiled, "It's fine! I'll bring it right away. Quick like a bunny."
He reluctantly left the car, feeling naked, I'm sure. I booked out of there as fast as school zones allow (OK, maybe a little faster...they were all mostly inside by then anyway).
When I got to the school, they were just finishing the Pledge of Allegiance and a moment of silence for Veterans Day. I brought the backpack in, checking Will's eyes for any evidence of puffiness.
"Oh, thank you," his teacher said. "He was so upset."
My heart sank as I realized Will had experienced one of those hurts he might still remember when he's in his mid-30s. I'd wanted so much to protect him by darting home for the backpack.
When I picked him up after school today, I told him, "Mommy was quick this morning, right? Can you believe how fast I got back with your agenda book?"
My plan was to try to replace his negative memory with a positive memory of his mom, "the hero who always saved the day."
"No," he said, completely serious. "It took forever."
"What?" I said. "No way! I went as fast as I could, I just ran in the house and drove straight back to school!"
"Mommy, it took a long time. Are you sure you didn't stop to go shopping?"
As we grinned at each other, I realized that Will may have inherited my tendency toward completely irrational panic, but he also inherited another trait from me (and his dad, grandpa, aunt and uncles): a good, healthy dose of smart-aleck.
As I told him to have a great day and make sure he grabbed his backpack, oh, the horror. It was not in the car. We looked at each other with huge eyes and I sensed that tears may start to fall.
Let me back up a bit. Well, maybe not just a bit ... let me back up about 28 years. I had a homework assignment to color code a map. My teacher had been very clear that we were to use color pencils, not crayons.
As soon as Bus #13 departed from Pineview Elementary, I realized that I'd left my color pencils at school. My stomach dropped to the floor, my hands and feet got tingly and my eyes swelled white-hot as I unsuccessfully fought back tears.
I'm sure there was some reasonably solution (probably involving my cousin Rona who lived down the road and who was in the same class as me). But, now, nearly 30 years later, I don't remember the resolution. I just remember the panic.
This morning, when Will and I realized his backpack was not in the car, oh, how I knew his pain.
He was wondering how he could be ready when the bell rang. Would he get in trouble? What would he tell the teacher?
Before his tears could well any more, I announced a plan.
"You go into your classroom. I'll go get your backpack and bring it to you right away."
"WHAT? NO! I can't go in without my backpack! I'll go with you."
"No, you can't, you'll be late for school."
He looked at me like I was crazy to suggest he go into the school sans backpack.
I smiled, "It's fine! I'll bring it right away. Quick like a bunny."
He reluctantly left the car, feeling naked, I'm sure. I booked out of there as fast as school zones allow (OK, maybe a little faster...they were all mostly inside by then anyway).
When I got to the school, they were just finishing the Pledge of Allegiance and a moment of silence for Veterans Day. I brought the backpack in, checking Will's eyes for any evidence of puffiness.
"Oh, thank you," his teacher said. "He was so upset."
My heart sank as I realized Will had experienced one of those hurts he might still remember when he's in his mid-30s. I'd wanted so much to protect him by darting home for the backpack.
When I picked him up after school today, I told him, "Mommy was quick this morning, right? Can you believe how fast I got back with your agenda book?"
My plan was to try to replace his negative memory with a positive memory of his mom, "the hero who always saved the day."
"No," he said, completely serious. "It took forever."
"What?" I said. "No way! I went as fast as I could, I just ran in the house and drove straight back to school!"
"Mommy, it took a long time. Are you sure you didn't stop to go shopping?"
As we grinned at each other, I realized that Will may have inherited my tendency toward completely irrational panic, but he also inherited another trait from me (and his dad, grandpa, aunt and uncles): a good, healthy dose of smart-aleck.
Sunday, November 8, 2009
Grandma Tappa's
Saturday, November 7, 2009
P is for progress
Charlie woke up at 5:22 this morning, jibber-jabbering away.
As I pulled him out of the crib, he wiggled out of my arms and ran to the bathroom like a man on a mission.
When we got there, I was shocked to see him pointing at the potty chair. (He had found it and seemed interested so I figured it couldn't hurt to let him get familiar with it.)
I asked him, "Do you want to use the potty?"
He nodded and helped me take off his pajama pants and diaper.
Then he proceeded to pee all over the floor about a foot from the potty chair.
But that's progress, right?
Last week I issued a decree to Scott and Will that they need to sit down to go whenever Charlie is around.
As the person who has to clean the floors and walls near the toilet, I felt it was well within my rights to make such a declaration.
That hasn't happened, of course. My decrees generally don't amount to a hill of beans.
But, I'm encouraged.
We've been up for about an hour now and Charlie just brought me a diaper and a changing pad. Cool.
On a hunch, I gave him the rolled up dirty diaper and asked if he could throw it away. After some narrowly-missed detours, he tossed it in and ran back to me for a celebratory hug.
I think it's going to be a good day.
As I pulled him out of the crib, he wiggled out of my arms and ran to the bathroom like a man on a mission.
When we got there, I was shocked to see him pointing at the potty chair. (He had found it and seemed interested so I figured it couldn't hurt to let him get familiar with it.)
I asked him, "Do you want to use the potty?"
He nodded and helped me take off his pajama pants and diaper.
Then he proceeded to pee all over the floor about a foot from the potty chair.
But that's progress, right?
Last week I issued a decree to Scott and Will that they need to sit down to go whenever Charlie is around.
As the person who has to clean the floors and walls near the toilet, I felt it was well within my rights to make such a declaration.
That hasn't happened, of course. My decrees generally don't amount to a hill of beans.
But, I'm encouraged.
We've been up for about an hour now and Charlie just brought me a diaper and a changing pad. Cool.
On a hunch, I gave him the rolled up dirty diaper and asked if he could throw it away. After some narrowly-missed detours, he tossed it in and ran back to me for a celebratory hug.
I think it's going to be a good day.
Monday, November 2, 2009
Will's first Badger game
Took Will to his first Badger game on Saturday, as Wisconsin crushed Purdue. It was a great day. Will was very patient and enjoyed all the different parts of a football Saturday in Madison: the band, Bucky's various Halloween costumes, Jump Around, and a blowout win for the good guys. And I didn't even have to keep a constant stream of food shoveling into his mouth. Can't wait to take him again!

Sunday, November 1, 2009
Kids Day at the Kohl Center
Friday was Kids Day at the Kohl Center, a nice event the University of Wisconsin athletic department staged because most of the state's schools were out for the day. There were a number of stations where kids could try their hand at different sports, and of course get free stuff.
The highlight came when we snuck inside to watch hockey practice, and a Badger skated over, picked up a couple pucks with his stick, and flipped them over the glass to the boys. They loved it!
Oh, and Jana told the boys the story of the 2002 Wisconsin-Northern Michigan game, in which five brave Yoopers traveled to the Kohl Center, cheered their pure little hearts out, but were mercilessly heckled by Badger fans as UW came back to win with two late goals. You can see she's still got a ways to go before she gets over it.


The highlight came when we snuck inside to watch hockey practice, and a Badger skated over, picked up a couple pucks with his stick, and flipped them over the glass to the boys. They loved it!
Oh, and Jana told the boys the story of the 2002 Wisconsin-Northern Michigan game, in which five brave Yoopers traveled to the Kohl Center, cheered their pure little hearts out, but were mercilessly heckled by Badger fans as UW came back to win with two late goals. You can see she's still got a ways to go before she gets over it.
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