The Force is With Us...

By Dexter

A long time ago (3.5 months, to be precise), in a galaxy far, far away (San Clemente), my father bestowed upon me my first lightsaber.  It was then that I heard my one true calling in life: to become a vigilante blood spatter analyst for Miami Metro PD Jedi Master.  I'm a homegrown Jedi-in-training, honing my skills where and when I can, but always with my favorite young Padawan, Obi Wan Q-Nobi.  

The Force is round and chubby with this one.

Jediz n the Hood.

Don't get me wrong, I understand that becoming a Jedi Master typically requires hard work and years of dedicated service for the average folk, but I'm the Dex, and I ain't got time for that.  To fast-track my training, I set my coordinates for a far away star system known as Disneyland, where seasoned Jedi Masters could complete my training (and leave me enough time for a few train rides around the park).

Twirling my lightsaber.  Boom.

Using the Force.  Snap.

How's my form?

Perfect.  Now, join the Dark Side.

Nope.  

While the other hopeless students were listening to and dutifully obeying instructions, I was putting on a lightsaber show like none the galaxy has ever seen.

Things were moving long swimmingly.  I was clearly the runaway star of my Jedi class, using the Force here, flinging it there, spinning my lightsaber round and round till the sun went down, etc., when out of nowhere....

Stormtroopers!  Nuts.

Darth Vader?!  Crap.

NINJA DARTH MAUL?!?!  WE'RE ALL GONNA DIE!!

The final test in my training had arrived.  I had to act fast and furiously (we had to get to the Dumbo ride before the line got too long).  Instincts took over and I sprung into action.

So, can we talk about this?

No?  Step aside, little Jedi lady.  I got this.

Our final battle, while delayed by a few lightsaber-related technical difficulties, was epic and wrought with lethal fighting skills.  Viewer discretion is advised.

After mauling Darth Maul and sending Vader crying for his mommy, I received my official Jedi diploma, which I paraded on a victory tour around Disneyland, the last stop on which was with none other than my all-time number one hero.

May the Force be with you all....

Happy Birthday to Quentin, Happy Birthday to Q

By Daddy

Just yesterday, you were born, and I wake up this morning to find a two-year old running around the house, eating all the food, following his big brother's every move, and spreading that infectious laugh.  How can this be?  Where did the time go?  Pardon the cliche, but the time absolutely flies with you around...

Interesting that they only noted weight and circumference of his noggin.

Plotting or admiring?  

OK, admiring.

Still admiring.

Anyone who has had the distinct pleasure of meeting the Q Ball knows the feeling:  this world, despite it's plentiful problems and many sorrows, is undoubtedly a better place with Quentin Stegmaier.  Happiest of Birthdays to my chubby little buddy.

Despite turning into this handsome young lad...

In my eyes, you'll always be the Baby Q Ball.

Q-ristmas Time

By Quentin

Greetings, all ye faithful "blog"ites.  Tis the season to be merry and for the one and only Q-Ball (and his round little belly that shakes when he laughs like a bowl full of jelly) to commence blogging as a guest writer. 

To put it mildly, Christmas time is kind of a big deal around Castle Stegmaier.  My brother Dex kicked off the Christmas season with a letter to Santa.  Embedded in his plea for presents is, evidently, a gift for me.  How sweet is this guy??

Permit me to translate: "Dear Santa,  I want a big red airplane.  I have been very good.  I won't hit Q-Ball again."  Wow.

When you're as notorious as Dex and Santa, mailing and return addresses are superfluous. 

Our spy elf, Picklepuss, helped us along by putting up our stockings.  Dex tells me that Picklepuss will watch us throughout the day, fly to the North Pole each night to report our daily activities to Santa, only to fly back to our house in the morning, break in and wreak some sort of havoc.  And we're OK with this?

I have the train stocking.  A perpetual point of contention for Dex, to be sure.

Eating all my candy canes.  Awesome.

Breaking my ceiling fan.  Rude.

Good golly, Picklepuss.  That's just going too far.

We took our talents to Sacramento for a ride on the Polar Express.  Like many others, the Polar Express has become a staple of our Holiday cheer, so the chance to ride on the infamous train was one we couldn't refuse.  True to the spirit of the book/movie, we wore our pajamas and enjoyed luke warm hot chocolate on our round trip excursion to the North Pole.

We like trains.  On an obsessive level.

Matching jammies!

Chit chatting over hot chocolate.  Doesn't get any sweeter than this.  (What's a pun?)

Hot chocolate sugar rush!!!

High-fives out the window of a moving train (ignore poor parenting).

Hanging out the window of a moving train to see the North Pole (ignore poor parenting).

Once a Stegmaier, always a Stegmaier.

Polar Express selfie.

Happy Q-ristmas to all, and to all a good night.

Giving Thanks

By Dexter

Hard to believe it, but Thanksgiving 2014 has come and gone.  As usual, I played host to both families and pulled off a practically perfect Thanksgiving.  We started the day with a fantastic bubble performance, courtesy of me, just like the Pilgrims used to do.

Bubbles as big as yo head (or 10 of mine).

I put together some hand-crafted placeholders for my guests (which doubled as nice parting gifts), just like the Pilgrims.

Kitties join us at the table, just like the Pilgrims.

Head of the table is reserved for The Dex.

Being a Holy Man, I kicked off the feast with an inspired prayer, lifting spirits and bringing hope to humankind.

With Thanksgiving 2014 in the books, The Dex is focused on bigger prey: Christmas 2014!!!  More blogging to come (just like the Pilgrims)...

Picture Day

This year, Dex started transitional kindergarten at Our Lady of Fatima here in San Clemente, and today is picture day. Required attire includes school-branded polo shirt and sweater vest, which works for us, as Dex looks insanely cute (more so than usual)!  Unfortunately, Dex has developed a terrible habit of flattening his iconic spiky hair each morning, perhaps in an effort to distance himself from Daddy (say it ain't so!). I'm hopeful we convinced him to leave it up for pictures, but the proof will be in the proofs. 

This week marks Dex's third at OLF and he seems to be doing great. Making great friends and his teacher, Mrs. Donovan, has been wonderful.  Dropping Dex off at school in the morning has also been a real treat, as watching his class line up for morning assembly prayer and pledge of allegiance is one of the cutest things I've seen in a long while (at least since seeing Dex in his sweater vest this morning). 

Off to Brazil….

With Argentina's match with Switzerland looming, the Gauchos have been forced to pull out all the stops, to put it all on the line, to throw caution to the wind, to send out a hail mary, to call in the Big Gun.  Fortunately for the Homeland of the Tango, the Dex has been training for this moment his entire life (all 4 years!) and has answered the call.

Daddy, how long do I have to hold this pose?

Pass it to Messi?  Nah, I got this.

Happy National Dexter Day!

Well, the day we've all been eagerly waiting for is finally here....today is my third birthday.  Because I'm a swell guy and wanted to bestow upon thee a three-day weekend in honor of my splendor, "National Day of Celebration of the Glorious Birth of Dexter" was officially observed on Monday (and for some reason is referred to as "President's Day."  I guess it's a sign of my inevitable world domination?).  My Daddy is a real emotional crazy guy today and keeps repeating that he can't believe I'm already three years old and that he wishes he could freeze me right now.  To which I reply, give it your best shot, Daddy.  The Dex will not be frozen.  Not even chilled.  It's full steam ahead.

Dug up this old picture from the archives.  Even in my early years I was a real head-turner.

Huh, how about that?  Now, in my senior years, I'm still a stunner (notice the divine light shining upon the Dex?)

Birthday morning began with breakfast with Mommy and Daddy and with a sprinkling of the birthday bounty surely to come.  I received a splendid Gordon the train for my train table (if you don't know who Gordon is, the Dex pities you).  In exchange for my gift, I reciprocated with an appropriate sign of gratitude.

This is how we say thank you round these parts.

Although I appreciate and love all my presents (especially my new fleet of Thomas trains), I'd like to think my parents gave me the best gift imaginable when they brought my future minion little brother Quentin into the world.  I think we'll get along just fine.

You know something, Goof, this kid's alright by me...as long as he's plugged.

Happy Birthday!