Mom's Night Out

So my wife went out with a friend to dinner and the OSU basketball game tonight. So, in other words, the most frightening thing that all Dads across the world fear: Mom’s night out! Its not that we are jealous she is out having fun but it’s that we are left with the offspring all alone like a lone soldier dropped too far into enemy territory with no immediate evac....and its getting dark. I do believe children conspire against their parents but it’s on an invisible level that parents are unable to see except for the results of their secret meetings. Like, how they can all be as pleasant as can be one minute and the next they are all crying for different reasons like they had their watches synchronized for zero hour and then “let loose hell,” just to see how the parents will react and then to use this to inflict guilt on the parents. I am still unaware of the goal but I am pretty sure it has something to do with ice cream and/or Toys R Us. I come to believe the latter because there is not a parent out there who has not fallen prey to the “I want it now” or “I don’t want to leave” temper tantrum at said store, by one or all your children at the same time. If they are advanced, they will have scheduled “break down” times so they are not all screaming at the same time but successively to make sure they ride your last nerve like a bull at a rodeo.

Mom’s night out is a perfect example of this conspiracy theory. But the ultimate goal is by the end of the night for Mom to see Dad as an incompetent, inept parent who even though he only watches the children alone every once in a while can’t handle it and at the same time make Dad think brain surgery would have been easier. During mom’s night out the children treat Dad like a substitute teacher. "Lets see what we can get away with before he breaks. Because he will break. Oh yes, he will break."

This is how my night went. Before my wife even left the baby started crying. I have talked about “zero hour” before but here's a reminder. Every day kids have a time when all rationality and sanity go out the window that lasts until bedtime. For us its 5:00 p.m. But luckily for me tonight Nate started at 4:30. He screamed and he cried and he screamed and walked around and cried. Non-stop. I fed him in his highchair for 10 minutes but he kept crying between bites and throwing food on the floor. The other 2 were fine. (It was Nate’s shift). Unfortunately but expectantly dinner went longer than thought due a cooking error on my wife's part. Yes, Lindsey told me what to do but she didn’t say remove the foil so it wasn’t cooked correctly and had to bake longer. If only she was more specific, so yes her fault. Well if it pertains to food, cue Drew. (Drew's shift begins) He is at my heels asking for dinner. Then to the refrigerator, to the freezer, then to the pantry, back to me, to the oven, to me, back to the fridge, now me, to the table, to the pantry, I'm on a horse. All the while I am telling him to “wait for dinner” at every appliance. (Nate is still crying). So finally dinner comes out. I put Nate on the floor because he ate what he was going to, including tears and snot, and I dish out Taco pie. I put the plates and cups on the table, call for dinner, and then their secret watches all start beeping for “go time.” Here are their assignments at this precise moment: Nate – go to the art drawer and pull everything out including the crayon box and dump it all on the floor; Zachary – go to the dinner table and begin complaining about the food and how you are not going to eat it and you want something else. Do not stop complaining whatever you do, keep a whiney noise going constantly. This will provide the auditory distraction and Nate will cause the physical distraction while Dad cleans up the mess to set up the climax. Drew – While he is distracted by Nate and Zachary and not looking at you, spill your drink all over the dining room table and for good measure his chair where he will sit for dinner, soaking the table centerpieces, his chair, and carpet. If all goes to plan, He should lose it in 2.3 seconds. Which I did. Tossing down the art supplies, telling Zachary he can go to bed hungry for all I care and sitting down in the water soaked chair, I begrudgingly ate my dinner wishing mom was home and I was not.

I held it together long enough to get through bath and bedtime, but at this point it was just a race to the finish line. (Finish line in parent speak means “all children in bed asleep and you on your way for wine and/or chocolate.) During bedtime though, they had one more surprise planned. I began reading to Drew which cued him to get up and run out of the room while I am yelling after him “if you don’t stay I am done reading this…” Out he went. I go grab him and put him back into bed tucking him in and leaving when I hear 2 children crying. I understood Drew who wanted his story to be read but out in the hallway, Zachary was crying too. He was crying because his hands itched. They had had to have synchronized watches for this impeccable timing. Like every good Dad, I told Zachary to wash his hands, the equivalent of “walk it off” and read Drew the “abbreviated” version of his story (abbreviated in parent speak means “skip as many pages on the page turn before they notice.)

Next comes the humiliating part that is the night's goal for the children yet Dads still fall prey to it: I call my wife to tell her how horrible the night was. Now depending on your wife she will give you 2 different reactions: empathy or laughing. Let me tell you, you want laughing. Because depending when you call, laughing can either make your pain worse if called right after the “break down” because she is making light of your situation or if called later when they are asleep, make it better because she is making light of your situation. Then you can both laugh at the ridiculousness of it all and chalk it off to the “joys of parenting.” I wanted this reaction, I got the empathy reaction. I will tell you why you don’t want the empathy reaction. Because it may sound like empathy on the outside “that sounds awful, you poor dear, are you ok? Do you need anything?) but on the inside she is saying, “I do this everyday for 10-12 hours a day 5-6 days a week by my self and even on the weekends we have church or get a babysitter so that time doesn’t count. I leave for one night and you make it seem like the world is coming down. They are just children. It’s not like they are devious super spies conspiring against you with synchronized watches and elaborate plans to make you go nuts. (In a mocking tone) well if it’s too hard for you, why don’t you call your mother to take over because you can’t handle it? Just make sure she changes your diaper after she changes theirs.” You do not want the pity… I mean empathy reaction.

So that was my night. Finally, you know it was a mom’s night out because when Dad is put in charge of pajamas, the baby is wearing a 3T footie outfit and the 2 year old is wearing 12 months pants that look like Capri’s.






Looking forward to tomorrow when I am safe at work,
The Joyful and Tired Dad

It’s just a phase….or is it?

Have you ever said to yourself, “it’s just a phase” to justify the horrendous moment in time called your life. I have found more and more with 3 boys ages 5, 2 and 1 that I keep saying “It’s just a phase. It’s just a phase. It’s just a phase,” loosely interpreted “please God, no, don’t let this be what life is now like and will be like forever. Please let it be temporary. We just have to get through this time and then we will enter the “Full House” part of life where everyday is filled with Joey’s hilarious situational comedy and Uncle Jesse’s outrageously good-looking hair and every teachable moment is a life lesson where kids sit down on the bed with a beautiful interlude of orchestra music in the background and they listen intently to your wisdom, they apologize for the shenanigans that Kimmie Gibbler got them involved in and their lives are forever changed.”

But the more life goes on, the more I feel like phases only pertain to “teething” and “potty-training,” instead of the phases I would prefer to be phases such as “not listening” and “disobedience” and “I know I ate a huge snack 1 hour before lunch and I just ate a gigantic lunch but I’m so hungry please give me another snack. My belly hurts and it only wants what you are having for lunch.”

We have had quite a “I hope it’s just a phase” weekend. Here are a couple of back stories for you to grasp the essence of this weekend. Drew has a dead tooth. We are going to the dentist Monday to confirm this but a couple of days ago I noticed his front tooth was discolored. I tried to scrape but when brought up to Lindsey, she replies “Yeah I saw that 3 days ago and thought it was chocolate so I already tried the scraping method. I think its dead.” He must have fallen awhile back and hit it where it has been slowly dying but this week it decided to change colors. Lindsey and I proceeded to have the epic debate: to pull or not to pull. She says pull, I say neigh. You may ask why and this is our reasoning: Would you rather have your 2 year old look like a pirate or a hillbilly? I say keep the tooth because pirates are cool in pre-school at Halloween but no one chooses to be a Hillbilly for Halloween except forgetful parents whose only solution to their procrastination of buying a good costume is a flannel shirt, ripped jeans, and a sharpie. You don’t want to have the kid who wears his costume in his mouth everyday, unless it’s cool like a rotten chopper. Not to mention if we did pull it, who knows what he would be sticking in there. You don’t want to get the phone call from pre-school, “Hi Mr. Allen, Drew was just found with another eraser in his tooth-hole. He was also sucking his thumb during school pictures but still smiling. He just slid his thumb right through that dead space and on into his mouth, smiling about his new trick.”






So yesterday morning at 5:30 am, I was awoken out of bed at what I heard Zachary to say “I threw up in my bed.” I rush out of my bed and run to his room to see him standing beside his bed in tears. I ask him if he is alright and he says “I didn’t throw up, I said my blankets fell off of my bed. Can you fix them?” Not the emergency I wanted to get up for at 5:30. Well he proceeds to stay up, followed by the other 2 hooligans who hear him playing with his door handle for an hour. So 6:30, everyone is awake and its party time. Well that day just dragged on and on and there was no end to the whininess and constant requests “I’m hungry, can I watch TV, where are my shoes, can I go outside, can I play at David’s house, but I’m hungry.” We had friends come over that night and brought their children who played with our 3 boys…hard. They were laughing and running and screaming and it was great. We were able to sit and talk with our friends why they entertained themselves. Well they went down later than usual and you would think that would mean they would sleep in the next day. Well that is what normal people do but we have vampire children that don’t require sleep and feed on joy of taking sleep from their parents. They were up at 6:15 this morning! All of them! Not all at one time but eventually they all wake each other up. Zachary is the first to wake up and he poops at 6 in the morning and then plays with the bathroom and his door handle for 15-20 minutes, this wakes Drew up who is instantly in a bad mood cause he is in his room and yells at the top of his lungs for someone in California to come let him out (its that loud), which then awakens Baby Nate who can’t talk but loves to scream and poop. Needless to say, we must get up. Well the next 5 hours are followed by more whining and requests and kids climbing on us and screaming and fighting and not listening and eating us out of house and home. And its still only 11:30. People who sleep in aren’t even awake yet. We call them single without children. We call them lucky. We want to call them to wake them up. Drew goes poop in the potty and then he calls for me not to wipe him but to get the poop off his finger. He already attempted to wipe himself without success. Well at least no success on toilet paper. So I wipe him getting poop on my own finger because the toilet paper rips and we spend the next 15 minutes scrubbing our hands. I didn’t see that on a Full House episode. It was just one more thing that went wrong today. So afterward Lindsey and I are laughing about the absurdity of today and this weekend and I tell her about Drew and I in the bathroom and how we formed the Poop Hand Gang. They call me Brown Finger and him Black Tooth.

It is nice to be able to laugh about these “phases” and recognize them for what they are: torture to live through but hilarious to retell and blog about. Because after all, these are the memories I would never trade in and little joys in life that should be seen as such I do look forward to sharing these stories with my adult children and their grand-children because I am not looking forward to 1 hour from now when those “parents-to-be” will be waking up from their nap and it starts over again. But it is only a phase, right?

Off to scrub my hands again,
The Joyful and Tired Dad

Why I can never be a "Stay at Home" Dad

Children suck. Don't take this the wrong way. Don't call Children's Services. But any parent can agree with this statement. Now they are not bad all the time. But they are not good all the time either. They have their moments when you think, "what are my single friends doing right now?" Are they experiencing that beautiful moment in time parents call "peace and quiet" and singles refer to as "a normal day"? But some might argue, "But non-parents miss out on the beautiful moments of laughter, joy, and pride parents have when they look upon the life they have created." You know who is making that argument? I will tell you, non-parents. Because any parent knows this line of thinking and can always counter it with, "But non-parents also miss out on the beautiful moments of: poopy butts, vomit shirts, tantrum screams, bloody murder cries, ear-piercing whining for food one hour after they ate a full breakfast, accidental crotch hits while wrestling (that ones for the dads), spilled milk on the couch, horseback riding the dog, slap fighting their brothers (including the 11 month old); all when they look upon the life they created."

But on to my main point: I could never be a stay at home dad. I am on vacation this week, a stay-cation if you will since we are not going anywhere. So my vacation from work means my wife's vacation from the kids and I am her substitute. That is not how it really is but today she was feeling ill and so my role as joint parent was abruptly upgraded to "single parent" so she could rest and recover. So in other words, I would be handling the parental workload for the same amount of time she does everyday while I am at work. So let us begin:

I wake up at 6:00 to Zachary opening and closing his door, opening and closing, opening and closing. When I asked later why he said he was going to the bathroom. To which I replied, "Next time open your door, exit, go to the bathroom, return to your room, and shut your door. There is no need for 15 opening and closing of your bedroom door for one bathroom visit." But this marathon of door shutting woke the 2 year old who hates to sleep in. So I take the 2 older boys downstairs so Dora the Explorer can parent them while I lay on the couch in my "just woke up" haze. Well it isn't 10 minutes when Drew is crying for food. 6:30, time to make breakfast. If McDonalds can do it this early, so can I. Apparently scrambled eggs and toast take too long for a toddler so he begins to yell at me that he is hungry. The yelling wakes up the baby. Now all three are with me, hungry, grouchy, and yelling at me and each other. My wife wakes up and immediately has to run an errand. So I am all alone with 3 screaming children, and I am loving life. So at 7:17, after the constant bickering with each other and asking for my parental wisdom and guidance in the matter of "he stole a toy from me. I had it first," I utter the phrase all parents know and love when they have had enough, "Work it out." oh yes, before 7:30 I was already at the "work it out" phase of the day. It was not going to be pretty.

Well we struggle through breakfast with me repeatedly telling them to sit back down cause I am not in the mood to do the Heimlich maneuver after they choke on their toast from jumping with food in their mouth, we finish. But being a good parent (but stupid at the time) I veto TV for the morning. But this now means I am the center for entertainment. What is it like for those children who know how to entertain themselves? I always dream of white puffy clouds and green pastures filled with children playing by themselves with no need for parental involvement while the parents carry on adult conversations about things not related to the latest Fresh Beat Band song or which Pokemon is the best or the risks vs benefits of being Mario rather than Luigi in Mario Kart. Anyway, I ask them to go to the basement but they say no. So after putting the baby down I sum up the courage and desire and wrestle with them. The thing I found out today is that I have one good wrestle session in me each day. Did you catch that: one. So in other words, I just used up my bag of tricks and it was 8:30 in the morning. Luckily, my beautiful and amazing wife had set up a play date for Zachary at 9:30, so we killed time till then.

After the playdate it was 11:15 and time to take Zachary to school. I dropped him off and ran a quick errand and returned to the most wonderful time in any 'stay at home' parents day: nap time. The other 2 were down for naps and my wife and I were able to make lunch. After which she went to take her nap to rest and I sat down to eat my lunch. But like sitcom-timing, I hear a cry upstairs. Now the younger 2 children typically take 2.5-3 hours naps in the afternoon. But not today. Today is Daddy's day so they conspired beforehand and both woke up at 1.5 hours. There is nothing more defeating in a parents life than cutting short or taking away "nap time". Many parents will go through a deep depression when there baby decides to "drop a nap." So remember, my wife is now asleep and the younger 2 are not. So I dont even get a recess today. No lunch break. I am now eating with my 2 year old begging for food at my feet. Even our dog has more self-control.

My wife takes a long nap today, lucky for her, too bad for me. My oldest son goes to another boys house after school so I have the 2 year old and baby for 4 hours this afternoon. I actually enjoy this time with them. There is a time when I see them playing together with Drew making funny noises and Baby Nate laughing uncontrollably. Its a brief but precious moment I was able to witness. But then the zero hour hits. All stay at home parents know what I am talking about. Its the time right before your spouse gets home and before dinner when Hell breaks loose. There is no scientific reason, no cause. But the planets align just right and something clicks in the child that makes them go from Dr. Jeckel to Mr. Hyde. The crying intensifies, the whining goes up 100 notches, nobody is satisfied, every child wants something but cant tell you what cause nothing will make them happy because it is: the Zero Hour. Its about at this time, you need to make dinner. So today, my wife wakes up and goes to pick up Zachary, the 2 year old is whining for milk and his blanket, and God help me if I put the baby down cause every time I try, he believes the world is ending and its my fault. So I am holding the baby, pushing away the 2 year old with one foot, balancing with the other and cooking over a hot stove. Mr. Mom I am not.


Everyone makes it through cooking dinner and eating dinner and the boys ask me to wrestle before bathtime. Now remember: one wrestling session a day. But God gives me the strength and we wrestle again. Phillipians 4:13. Bathtime and bedtime go without a hitch and everyone goes down with minimal crying. But as I sit down to write this blog, who do I hear but the baby who hates sleep and me. But the amazing woman who does the superhuman job of being a stay at home mom swoops in and takes the baby to her parents house so I can have one of those beautiful moments in time: peace and quiet. I love her so much and after today I appreciate all the more her sacrifices, her frustrations, her stress, and those little moments of joy that come from being a stay at home mom. So to all those stay at home moms out there: Thank you and you certainly don't get paid enough.

Loving my job because it is not hers,
The Joyful and Tired Dad.

A Trip to West Virginia

Have you ever had just one of those days? And was it ever during a trip? And was it also not just one day but an entire weekend? So I guess I should ask: Have you had just one of those weekend trips? Well I just had one and I just had to share it with you.

The premise is simple. Leave on Saturday, drive to West Virginia, spend the day in Charleston, the next day go take family pictures with extended family and return that afternoon. Sounds simple, right? Oh, I forgot to add one thing; you have to take your three children. Now you are beginning to understand. But don’t start thinking a whimsical, family vacation spent frolicking through lily fields until picture time as your pretty little girls in their sundresses smile so pretty for mummy and daddy and you take such wonderful family pictures that would make Anne Geddes and her fat, sunflower babies cry. No, I have boys.

We start off the trip to Charleston, West Virginia following my wife’s parents because they know the way. And lucky for my wife and I, they agreed to take the two older boys, Zachary, who is 5 years old and Drew, who is in the “horrendous two’s” (because ‘terrible’ doesn’t do it justice). And Lindsey and I had our sweet little 10 month old, Baby Nate. The 3 hour car trip was going well for both parties, because our baby was sleeping and we couldn’t hear the other two because they were in the other car so we didn’t care how they were doing. Oh, when I said two parties, I meant me and my wife, cause silence in a car is like a party celebrating the two guests of honor, Peace and Quiet. We were loving life, enjoying great conversation, the time was flying by, until… he awoke. Now he should have slept the whole time but of course, it was one of those weekends. So he screamed and cried and screamed. We tried a bottle, gold fish crackers, applesauce, movies, radio, blankets, and pacifiers. But all he wanted was to get out of that car seat. And we still had an hour to go. And at this point I am thinking three things: 1. Are we there yet? 2. Can I squeeze a third car seat in the back of their car? 3. How far is it if I were to walk from here? Our enjoyable, time-flying-by car ride just turned into a never-ending scream fest that seemed to last an extra 10 hours. Well we eventually arrived, frazzled but alive and went into Lindsey’s grand-parents house.

Have you ever taken your toddler(s) to a friend’s house that does not have children and so nothing in their house is child-proofed. Well take that experience and add priceless family heirlooms and china sets at eye level and reach length for a 2 year old. It has been a long time since her grandparents have had really young kids in their house, so they collect more and more things and items get moved lower and lower on shelves. Here is an interesting tidbit: You want to know if a family has kids or grandkids? Everything nice will be above eye level and everything replaceable will be below eye level. Needless to say, I spent the next 2 hours chasing Zachary and Drew around the house saying, “Stop, don’t touch that, what do you think you are doing, don’t go outside, put that down, Hey, stop licking the glass, close the freezer, don’t put your hand in the trash, go wash your hands.” All this while holding Baby Nate. Luckily we had an opportunity to go to her grandparent’s club pool to go swimming.

We go to their country club with my wife and our three little angels and take 15 minutes to set-up camp at the baby pool; change into swim suits, apply swim diapers, apply sunscreen, find swim goggles, apply flotation devices, etc. We go into the pool and begin to swim having a great time. We love it because they are expending pent up energy and cutting down the chase time for later. Well after 15 minutes of swimming Drew gets a mouthful of water and starts coughing. No big deal. But then keeps coughing and coughing, and while in the pool, throws up. He had choked on water. He then threw up again in the pool before we could grab him and get him to the trashcan where he threw up again all over himself. All while Lindsey is holding the baby and I am shooing an angry 5 year old, who still wants to swim, out of the puke-laden pool. Well we tell the 10 year old life guard on duty. No joke. She was so young. She didn’t know what to do expect call her boss and ask her what to do. All the while, probably texting her friends and trying to look up Justin Bieber’s latest tweet. And at this point all the other families have retreated out of the pool and gathered around the baby pool. So we clean up Drew, who is now crying for a ring pop, gather up a crying Zachary cause we have to leave, collect all our belongings while holding a baby and pushing a stroller down a flight of steps, while a crowd of West Virginians scowl at us for puking in their pool and leaving. So much for expending that energy. We go home and they all skip their naps. We have a wonderful evening ahead of us now.

That evening we go to Lindsey’s second cousins house for a birthday dinner. Well the kids would not sit still. Nothing would hold their interest except getting into trouble; grabbing whatever they could, messing with the dog, stealing crackers off the table with their dirty hands, climbing on boxes in the basement, yelling and laughing during the prayer, etc. I wanted to say, “Whose children are those? Where are their parents?” But everyone knew they belonged to me cause I was the one always one step behind them cleaning up the messes, picking them off the boxes, trying to silence them fighting each other, etc. The best part was during dinner, Drew was standing on his chair and leaned on the back causing it to tip backward and fall on the floor with him hitting his stomach in the process making him cry. Even though he stood up on his chair, I look like the irresponsible one for letting it happen. When all I was thinking was, “good, maybe that will teach you to listen to your parents.” After dinner, when it seems like we are going to go home and end this dreadful day, out comes the cookie cake. Nothing brings more joy to a parent’s heart like sleep deprived, sugar induced, toddlers 3 hours past their bed time at a non-child proofed extended family members house in a different state. Oh and by the way, your two year old just pooped their pants and you don’t have wipes. But we do finally get home and end the day yelling at them for jumping on the antique bed and trying to play “crash ‘em” with the 1940’s figurines in the hallway. We all collapse in exhaustion, ending the day and looking forward to what joy and merriment tomorrow holds.

I don’t know what you count as tomorrow starting because I had to feed Baby Nate at 2 in the morning. Then four hours later I feel Zachary crawl into bed with us because the temperature in the room dropped to Antarctic levels as you could now see your breath and they began filming March of the Penguins 2 around the bed. Well I asked Lindsey later if she enjoyed cuddling with Zachary in the morning because while she got the cute cuddly side, I got the kicking, ice cold feet in the back side…for an hour. It was my favorite way to wake up at 6 in the morning. We all got up at 7 and none of the kids slept in because of course why would they, and we started the process of waiting until picture time at 1:00, a quick 6 hours away. 6 hours of chasing kids around a house filled with family memories, delicious home cooked food and easily breakable, priceless, antique, family heirlooms. On top of the chasing and disciplining, the air conditioner couldn’t compete with an oven that was running all morning especially since the air conditioner worked overtime the night before preparing the ice skating rink in our bedroom. And add 11 adults and 3 children getting ready for family pictures, the house began to heat up. My father-in-law actually started sweating through all the shirts he put on. He had rings of sweat around his rib cage on every shirt he put on. He started running out of his own shirts and so was borrowing shirts from other relatives. I think I even saw him put on one of Nana’s dickeys just to soak up the sweat. He eventually ended up walking around shirtless when he discovered that he couldn’t wear Baby Nate’s onesies. Another side note, Lindsey’s uncle shows up who lives in Charleston and their basement flooded at midnight the night before. Just one more thing. But somehow I think my kids had something to do with it.

We finally make it to 1:00 and we leave for picture time at the country club where Drew had puked in the pool the day before. I let Lindsey and the 2 older boys out at the door and go park the car with Baby Nate. Well Lindsey’s grandmother believed the club was locked so they walked around the side of the building, through the maintenance area where Zachary walked near a broken beer bottle in bare feet. But did not get hurt except Lindsey got a chunk of glass stuck in her shoe and when Mallory, her brother’s fiancé, went to pull it out, she cut her finger open on it. All the while I am parking the car and just sit in the silence for 2 minutes. A 2 minute break from the insanity. But of course, during that time, a mosquito that was in the car bit me and I now had a giant mosquito bite, swelling and red, on my forehead 10 minutes before the family picture. Was I surprised? No. Was it funny for everyone else? Yes. Before we came to the club, I had a conversation with my father-in-law how we were glad the pictures that were scheduled to be outside were changed to be taken inside the club out of the 100 degree heat. It was something I was looking forward to, being in the air conditioning while I chased the kids inside. Well, we walk into the club, walk downstairs, and walk right outside to take the pictures on the patio out back. So much for air conditioning and a dry shirt. The pictures were relatively painless except Zachary punched his second cousin in the groin before pictures, so it wasn’t painless for him. Oh, and Drew bit the photographer. So it was relatively painless for all but 2 people.

We packed up and this time we had all 3 kids in our car for the trip home. Within 30 minutes all 3 were asleep. It was an amazing moment. And 10 minutes after that Baby Nate woke up. Of course he did. Because life is not fair. And I am convinced that children were created to remind one of that fact everyday of a parent’s life. Well then the crying started. And when Lindsey told me I was waking up the kids, I stopped. But to their credit, the kids did well on the way home. Of course, a stop at Wendy’s, Dairy Queen, and an in-car DVD player helped too.

We finally arrived home, exhausted and ready to put the TV on for the kids and let Dora the Explorer parent our children until bedtime so we could rest. That’s when I discovered that our dog had rolled in goose poop and needed an emergency bath. Well after that bath, when the dog was about to come inside, my wife points out more poop under her ear. So after the second bath, I am ready for bedtime. But wouldn’t you know it, Baby Nate wasn’t ready for bed. So he stays up with us another hour. But despite how tired I am, I still have stayed up till midnight to write this blog and share this wonderful experience with you. Thank you for reading. Oh and I have just heard the baby waking up ready for a midnight bottle. The joys of parenting keep on coming. Or is that just sleep-deprived delusions.

Truly,
The Joyful and Tired Dad

Things I've said this week "8/8/2010"

“Drew, I don’t know if you need a bath tonight. Go ahead and keep licking the ice cream off your bicep and blanket and shirt and car seat. Ok, I guess you need a bath.”

“Guys, please stop wrestling your baby brother. He does not like body slams or punches.”

“Yes Drew you do have little boobs. And I have big boobs. And Nate has baby boobs.”

“Nate, does your penis and hand have magnets in them that must touch when your diaper is off?”

“Can a two year old be a hypochondriac?”

“Cali, your breath smells like death.”

“Drew, I don’t know what you are saying. I don’t understand ‘yo bo too bee chu’.”

“No Drew, its pronounced ‘cricket’ not ‘f***-it’”

“Zachary, I know you don’t like Baby Nate screaming and crying but right now you are the only one screaming in the car. Even Baby Nate has stopped because you are so loud.”

“No Drew, Do not lick that car. I said stop at the front bumper and you are still licking down to the back door. Please stop.”

Hoping Drew doesn't get sick from the Honda Civic virus,
The Joyful and Tired Dad

After the "After the Final Rose."

How do you cope with having your heart broken on national television for all the world to see? Go on another reality show and break someone elses heart on national television for all the world to see. Its the ultimate revenge show. They disguise it with beautiful music and exotic locations and its all about finding your true love to marry them and live happily ever after. But if you think about it, its not about one person finding love, its about 24 people getting their hearts broken. But one lucky loser will return for the next season to get their revenge on the opposite sex and in the mean time find their life-long partner or at least their "15 minutes of fame after the press tour, Today show, Jimmy Kimmel live, Live with Regis and Kelly, Tonight Show, Jimmy Kimmel Live, then your are forced to be with each other without cameras and constant attention so you think it would be better to break up and go after each other in the tabloids so you can have another 15 minutes of fame and after that go your seperate ways" - long partner.
Thoughts on the Bachelorette 6.
1. No catchy theme song like the last Bachelor, big mistake. So what song can be stuck in my head after the final rose? Not many songs out there can top "On the Wings of Love" especially when Jake was a pilot.
2. No Frank on the wrap-up show? At least show the newspaper engagement pic of him and his ex-girlfriend.
3. We all knew she was going to pick Roberto from like episode 2. So do I feel bad for Chris, the runner-up? I felt especially bad after meeting his amazing family and the fact he lost his mom and was looking for love lost. It would have been easier if he was some deranged person with 2 other girlfriends at home and was only doing this show for publicity, oh wait that was Justin/"Rated R".
4. Please no more catch phrases. I can't hear anymore one liners like, "love is the only reality", "soul-mate", "perfect one", "connection", and "chemistry". Its like seventh graders trying out new words they learned from "Tiger Beat."
5. I feel bad for the curtains that had to die to make Ali's "final rose" dress.
6. Could Roberto be anymore sweaty? They should not have picked Tahiti as their fantasy destination cause he would sweat whenever the temperature went over 60 degrees. He would have been better suited for the Himalayas. You know Ali was uncomfortable kissing him at the final rose ceremony. That thin line of beaded sweat on his upper lip made her second guess her choice right there. "Maybe Chris wasn't so bad. At least he stayed dry."

But now its midnight, and I can't beleive I have stayed up this late to blog about the Bacherolette. I mean it is more important than sleep. Oh, priorities.

Can't wait to see if Chris is the next Bachelor (I hope not he deserves better, but he does need his chance at revenge too),
The Joyful and Tired Dad

Self-Sacrifice for a Sleeping Baby

Have you ever denied yourself something for the sake of getting a baby down to sleep? Now I am not talking about not going to that party or missing your favorite TV show because Jr. decided to stay up until Law and Order started. I am talking about denying yourself basic human rights that even the Geneva Convention would disagree with the moral and ethical abuse being done; all for the sake of getting your little one to sleep.

1. Food
The most basic self-sacrifice is food. Your baby decides its bed time at the exact moment dinner comes out to the table. Dinner is steaming hot and the sweet aroma fills the entire house as you sit in the glider with a bottle in one hand and your adorable baby in the other contemplating what formula tastes like because right now anything would do to quench the insatiable hunger welling up in your stomach. And at the very moment he closes his eyes to drift off to sleepy town, in the quiet and stillness of the nursery, your stomach releases the mother of all growls that is so loud it actually wakes up the neighbor’s baby and their dog.

2. The Toilet
Have you ever made the classic mistake of making a bottle before bedtime and thinking, “Yeah, I have to go but I can hold it.” So you sit down and start feeding the baby and he keeps moving his head back and forth and the formula is sloshing this way and that. The warm formula going splish, splash, slosh in the bottle while you regret not keeping up on your Kegel exercises and you think, “well he doesn’t have to drink the whole bottle right?” But you know he does, he always does and tonight he has decided to take his time with multiple rest breaks as he sips on the bottle like a fine wine savoring every drop. And it does not help if you cross your legs or not and you can’t do the pee-pee dance because that extra movement would wake up the baby.

3. The Cough/Sneeze
The two most natural, automatic, practically involuntary things the body does now have to become controlled and restrained while getting your baby to sleep. After a long night of your baby refusing sleep, after the second car ride around the neighborhood that did not work both times, after 3 bottle of 20 ounces of warm formula, you are rocking your baby to sleep and his eyes have closed and the wiggling is down to just a random kick now and then, and you feel it. A cough is coming. The feeling of 1000 feathers dancing on the back of your throat. You know if you let it out, he is fully awake and it negates the past 3 hours of work. So you hold it in, your eyes start watering, you’d do anything for a glass of water, and just when you think you can’t take it anymore, you sneeze. It came out of no where. You did not even get to do the cartoon finger under the nose thing (that actually works, try it!) And now the baby gets to watch Jay Leno with you tonight…again.

We go to great lengths, as parents, to make sure they go down easy and stay down, not for the sake of ruining their beauty sleep but the fact that the few moments we have to ourselves without kids at the end of a noisy, busy day is more precious than gold. Its worth stubbing your toe on the crib and biting their blankie to keep from yelling out, or dropping to the floor and army crawling out of their room to make sure they don’t see you. (Both done and done successfully I might add.) Just so they can sleep through the night and wake you up at 5 am when they have peed through their diaper and clothes from the 20 ounce of bedtime formula.

Looking forward to when my baby can put himself to sleep,
The Joyful and Tired Dad