Life's A Beach

Lily Bryn & Co. hit up Hollywood Beach in Andersonville and turned heads (well, at least one of us did).

"Let's get this party started! I only have one rule. Absolutely no speedos."

"Screw a pony, will you make an offer on one of those boats?"

"Is that a scorpion in the grass? LOL, just kidding!"

"Sure, I suppose I can ratchet up the cute factor for this one."

Parks and Rec

"This rubber staircase is burning my chubby legs!"

"Dad is too scared to slide down this thing. C'mon Pop, it's like 3 feet high. Seriously, are you crying? No, they don't have a kiddie slide. This IS the kiddie slide. You know what, I'll just go down myself. Set me down, post haste. You're an embarrassment. But I still love you."

"This swing changed my life."

Gooooooooooolllllllllllllll!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Some soccer newbie from Bosnia enjoys The Beautiful Game alongside Shane Smith, aka Tommy Buzanis.

Over the past month or so, I was stricken with an illness. It long went undiagnosed and it's symptoms included waking up ridiculously early, wearing garish color combinations and randomly bursting into cheer after long bouts of silence. Yes, that's right, I caught a small, albeit deadly bout of World Cup Fever. Thankfully I made it through alive, but it got dicey there for a while.

I had always thought soccer was too boring, too English, and too pretentious for my tastes, but over the course of the Cup, I began to revel in the small details of the game that most fans relish and most haters ignore. The different strategies, the art of the perfect pass, the absence of commercial breaks and most of all, the build up and anticipation as a team makes it's way towards a shot on goal. Plus, it gave me an excuse to drink lots of coffee chased with Bloody Marys.

The high point probably came when I went with my buddy Shane (and his whole family) to Cagney's bar, to watch the US take on Ghana. Watching soccer in a communal atmosphere makes all the difference in the world, and would likely even make Glenn Beck seem like less of a d*#k.

Alas, the outcome was not what was hoped for, but I continued to watch the Cup all the way through to the finals (Go Netherlands...uh, I mean Spain?). All the better, it probably saved me from frittering away $60 on a US soccer jersey that I wouldn't break out for another 4 years. I'm beginning to run out of bandwagons to jump on...

Yes. Yes it is.

Things We Like - Peaquod's Pizza

The ground beef and mushroom 'pan crust' pizza at Peaquod's Pizza, 2207 N. Clybourn Ave. Despite calling The Windy City home for over seven years now, we've always been of the school of thought that deep dish, a Chicago tradition, is generally hugely overrated and best left to the tourists and those with faster metabolisms than ours.

That is, until we discovered Pequod's famous 'pan crust' pizza...deep enough to be considered deep dish, but eschewing the deep dish name so that we can still keep our contrarian street cred. The restaurant itself is pretty refreshing too, as far as pizza joints go. Forgoing the traditional checkered table cloth and red booths, it goes for a comfy, corner dive bar feel and succeeds with room to spare. This pizza will make you cry tomato sauce tears of joy and make you feel better about venturing into Lincoln Park.

Father's Day Weekend 2010, in Pictures

"Yeah, I'm wearing a tutu. So what, who cares?"

Katy and Lily at HHH fave, Las Palmas. Avocado was on the menu in the form of guacomole, but Lily respectfully declined, citing the South Beach diet.

When you look up 'fist pump' in the dictonary, you'll find a picture of this spread at Las Palmas. Depending on what dictionary you use of course.

"Daddy, why do the Cubs suck?" (Daddy weeps quietyly, shoves handful of guacamole into mouth, begins sobbing loudly, awkwardly)

"Aw, look at me, I'm in Wicker Park. I'd wear some skinny jeans, but look at my legs. Not. Happening."

My Father's Day gifts. Love the Pabst Blue Ribbon logo on the tee. Love the book even more. 'My Super Dad'! Not to be confused with 'My Two Dads'. (I actually own that outfit, no photoshop required). Not pictured is a voucher for some Daddy-toddler music classes. I wonder if they'll have KISS songs?

One of the more classic pictures from the Super Dad book. I took that photo while I was back in Iowa. Wild animals just seem to respond to me, what can I say? Deer crossing? More like deer hugging!

"How many more of these pushups are you gonna make me do? I'm just a baby! I resent you already."

" "Are you wearing cologne? Seriously?"

Home is Where the Tenderloin Is

Bernie with Lily on Friday morning. Hard to tell, but Lily is representing UNI with her dress. Panther Pride! (As if she has a choice.)

Last weekend, we headed back to the Hawkeye State for a long weekend celebrating the birthdays of the incorrigible Griffin and Sienna (5 and 3, respectively), and of course, America's foray into the World Cup. Okay, not really the latter, although that did happen to be going on Saturday. (Three cheers for a tie!)

As is our M.O., the weekend was spent parent-hopping, fitting in as many relatives as we could into a ever-shrinking window of opportunity. To that end, we left the Windy City on Thursday night after work, but not before stopping home to feed the offspring and get a little grub for ourselves. This proved to be a double edged sword as A) we didn't need to make the obligatory Culvers stop, but B) we didn't arrive back to Waterloo until around 1:30 AM. Suffice it to say, I needed to stop in Independence (aka, Nightlife Capital of the Midwest) to get some caffeine just to get through the homestretch.

From there it was whirlwind of buttercream frosting and baby drool. Friday morning was spent with my Dad...we headed off to lunch with the old(er) man and step-brother (and track and field phenom) Bart, to Southern Smokeshack BBQ. From there, it was over to Mom and Ron's for a brief pit stop before heading over to see Katy's grandma's (Lily's great G) and her parents, before heading over to Mulligans (see: underrated; try their fajita salad and thank me later) for dinner, where Lily proceeded to charm the waitstaff, per usual.

On Saturday we headed down to Cedar Rapids for the birthday soiree of the aforementioned Griffin and Sienna, where a large gathering of assorted relatives congregated around a traditional birthday cake, praying desperately that the hopes and dreams of these young children would someday come true. It remains to be seen weather these wishes (best left unsaid) will come to fruition.

After a dinner of burgers on the grill and coleslaw (yep, we're back in Iowa), the adults enjoyed some liquor infused beverages while the children dreamed of a better tomorrow. On Sunday, we drove back to Chicago, where Lily made nary a peep the whole car ride home. God bless you Lily Bryn.

Another whirlwind tour of the Hawkeye state comes to pass with no disasters to speak of. Although, next time I expect sweet corn.

Griffin and Sienna opening presents. Classic birthday tradition!

Susan with Lily at the birthday party. Lily is wondering when the keg is gonna be tapped, not so much for her, but to get the party started in general.

Sleeping Beauty

It doesn't get much cuter than a sleeping baby. Here is Lily with her two favorite things (well, besides Mom and Dad); Sophie the teething giraffe and Shrek doll. Try to pry these from her grip and she will cut you. Don't let the adorable face fool you. She's ruthless.