The "No Fair" Family Trip - Part 2

So we had ended our first day of vacation like most days at home: fighting, yelling, refusing to sleep and way past a normal bedtime.  So the next day seemed promising.  And like everyday at home, they woke up early.  Who likes to sleep in on vacation?  Apparently not my kids.  But this was the only day of the week that we had great weather.  It had cooled down from the day before and I did not wake up in a pool of my own sweat.  It was actually a great day.  Highlights: Zachary and Drew went on a kayak ride with Pop Pop and Lindsey, Zachary and Drew caught their first fish ever, I got 2 hours away from the kids to ride on a jet ski by myself and only 10 fights between Z and D.  
The rest of the week till Thursday was filled with a lot of the same.  Mostly fishing on the dock that was walking distance from house.  Zachary in total caught 19 fish and Drew around 4.  Luckily this fact was not focused on or it would have rubbed in and highlighted.  I was even able to catch a snapping turtle by the dock that must have weighed 20 lbs.  Now Lindsey has an irrational fear of turtles and has drilled into our children that you must never touch a turtle or you may get diarrhea.  I don't know if this is proven science that she read somewhere on WebMD or an urban legend she made up herself.  She is fine with fish and lizards and other creepy crawlies but there is something about turtles.  One time at a Dad's night at Drew's preschool, the zoo brought out a painted turtle to hold.  Drew was very apprehensive to touch it which I find out later was not because of it being a live reptile but because of the possible future digestion problems.  And directly after touching it, without skipping a beat, he asked the worker "Can I wash my hands?"  So I pulled this snapping turtle out of the water with a net and placed it on the dock.  Pop Pop came over and bent down to pick up.  And Drew in a panic yelled, "DON'T TOUCH IT! YOU'LL GET DIARRHEA!!" 

Check out some pictures from our boy's first fishing experience.

We also were able to go to Petosky State Park's beach on Lake Michigan.  We had a great time playing in the water, building a sand castle and burying Daddy in the sand.  We also were able to get a couple of good pictures of the boys which is every Mom's main goal on vacation. 

I want you to look at these next 2 pictures.  The first picture is 1 of around 50 that actually came out great.  The second is what the other 49 looked like.  Mostly Zachary yelling at Drew for no good reason.  Thank goodness for digital cameras and 128 mb memory cards that can hold 4000 pictures.  Because most likely you will get 5 good ones out of those 4000.  What did we ever do before digital cameras?  It must be why most of my family's photo albums from vacations growing up contained more pictures of scenery than pictures of my siblings and I.  Cause if you don't get that 1st picture, you only have 27 more pictures on that roll and film cost $10 a roll.  So scenery it is.  Check these out...and Zachary's butt crack.

On Thursday, we left the vacation house and headed for Bay Harbor to finish our trip at a beautiful resort on Lake Michigan.  Sounds great, right? 

Oh just wait,
The Joyful and Tired Dad

The "No Fair" Family Trip - Part 1

Prologue

I love this blog.  It does several things for me.  1) It allows me to write down my thoughts and memories on “digital” paper so I will never forget this time in life.  2) It is a place for family and friends to catch up on the raising of our three boys.  And 3) It is a place for me to vent all my anger and frustration from raising our three boys.  So everyone can empathize and sympathize with me like a “digital” group therapy session.  I can get all my feelings out in the open and you can know that you are not alone in this thing called parenting.  So please join the group, sit back, relax, and listen as I share with you our latest family vacation.

“Hi.  My name is Mark.  And I am a parent…”

The "No Fair" Family Trip - Part 1

va·ca·tion   noun, often attributive \vā-ˈkā-shən,

:a period spent away from home or business in travel or recreation (without kids)

trip   noun,

:an act or instance of traveling from one place to another (with kids)

Vacations are fun and exciting and relaxing.  Trips are with kids.  We just returned today from a family trip.  Before writing this blog, I said to my wife that I wish I could somehow relay to the reader the bubbling anger and stress that often swirled and gurgled in my gut many different times during this trip.  But there is no way to put that on paper so I will try to describe the situations and feelings but only true parents may really know what I am talking about: the teeth-clenching, muscle-tightening, eye-popping frustration that all parents are all too familiar with.

I went to Northern Michigan with my wife, her parents and our 3 little angels, ages 7,4, and 2.  The first part of the trip was to stay at a vacation house of  a friends of my wife's parents and the second half at a resort called the Inn at Bay Harbor.  The plan was to drive with her parents to Michigan on Sunday, switching kids and drivers to relieve the stress of an 8 hour car trip.  A week before we left, her dad tells us that his friends want them to come early and that we would be driving up... alone...for 8 hours..with our children.   

Before I had children I always judged the parents who had DVD players in their cars.  It started with hand held DVD players and then standard built-in DVD players in minivans.  I felt bad for the children who were missing out on quality family time because selfish moms and dads couldn't entertain their own kids for 2 hours in a car on the way to grandmas house.  Back in my day, we didn't have DVD players and iPhones.  We entertained ourselves.  But now thinking about it, did we?  I remember taking a family vacation in a truck camper with my brother and sister laying in the bed above the truck cab, baking in the un-air conditioned camper, sliding around from side to side with every turn, occasionally coloring a coloring book, but mostly complaining to our parents through written notes held up to window (cause they couldn't hear us) about who hit who and when can we stop to pee.  We had no car seats back then or any type of child safety precautions.  So thinking about now, we mostly spent our time just staying alive in a moving car.  Now that I have children, who are restrained to their car seats and can move nothing but their mouths, I now love DVD players.  They are the greatest invention to parenting since pacifiers.  They are electronic pacifiers, good at any age.  So before we left, I took the boys to the library to pick out movies for the trip.  To say that the boys are "into" Pokemon is like saying  Romeo was "into" Juliet.  They are obsessed with Pokemon.  So in turn they choose Pokemon videos...12 of 16 Pokemon videos.  They would have chosen all 16 but I demanded for some sanity, a couple non-Pokemon videos.  If you are unfamiliar with Pokemon, just imagine someone squealing in a mind-numbingly high pitch just under dog hearing directly in your ear for a 30 minute episode.  And my kids brought 60 episodes for the trip.  Here is an example:

Yeah.  I am now reconsidering my view on in-car DVD players.

We left early in the morning with a plan to take our time, stop for lunch, have a nice long nap period and eventually arrive in the late afternoon when the kids woke up from their nap.  We get on the road and Nate falls asleep at 10:00.  He sleeps for a half an hour.  There were occasional fights about which Pokemon video to watch and I knew then that the kids had packed their "no fair" attitudes with them.  Drew decides that during this trip he will never let a drop of pee stay in his bladder for longer than 5 minutes.  So we had to stop on the side of the road for the kids to pee out of side of the van because there is a 5 minute time bomb in his bladder that will go off regardless if there is a toilet in front of him or not.  The side-of-the road pee, standing in the van doorway is not stressful.  The fact that Nate likes to turn around to talk to you while peeing is.  So Lindsey has to hold him forward as we try to keep all distractions to a minimum while he pees in silence.  Drew also decides to skip his nap today because he hates us.  We finally arrive in Northern Michigan after 8 long hours.  And what would you expect from 3 sleep-deprived boys who spent 8 exhausting hours in car?  Yep, energy.  Unbridled, pent up energy with no outlet.  So we took them to a nearby lake which we thought was a beautiful beach where we could swim and play in the sand till dinner.  We pull up to this "beach" which is being very generous calling it that.  There was about 5 feet of beach and then lake water.  I am used to beautiful ocean water with clean sand and surf.  This was a lake with muck, mud, tree branches, drift wood, and lake-borne diseases in the water.  But at this point we could have played in the sewer as long as it would wear the kids out.  The water's temperature was also 5 degrees.  But the kids loved it.  Well, Drew and Zachary loved it.  Nate decided that he too was used to ocean beaches (even though he has never been there) and refused to get in.  Z and D fought over the rubber rafts in the water but generally had a good time.

The vacation house we were to spend the first 5 days turns out to be a 2 story house in a small sub-division which was very nice except for one fact: it has no air conditioning.  It was 95 degrees in Michigan when we arrived.  I stepped out of the minivan into 95 degree heat and into the house in 98 degree heat.  My shirt instantly turned to wet rag.  As I searched the house for box fans, I realized I would now be wet at all times during my vacation.  I had also packed my "no fair" attitude.

And then there was dinner.  As I mentioned before, the boys had packed their "no fair" attitudes and weren't afraid to unpack and use abundantly.  We went to a beautiful bar/restaurant on Lake Michigan overlooking the yachts at Bay Harbor.  Dinner would have been fine but this restaurant also contained a parent's worst enemy: the stuffed animal claw game.  We even sat on the opposite side of the place but my kids sniffed it out like pack of bloodhounds.  I held them off long enough till after dinner to go look at it and I had no intention of playing it because I knew what could happen.  But remember, we were with their grandparents who apparently brought a fist full of one dollar bills with them.  So while I was with Drew, here comes Zachary with 3 one dollar bills for each kids to try the 2 50 cent per claw games.  For a little insight into Zachary, he is a very compassionate little boy who cares about his fellow man.  He gets this from his beautiful mother, who has an amazing gift for compassion and watching out for the underdog.  But there is a fine line between compassion and injustice.  Especially to Zachary when he thinks he is the underdog.  Then it is all about the injustice and how it is not fair.  So Zachary goes first at the claw game and spends his dollar going after this pink bear which he dislodges but does not win.  He then returns to the table defeated but OK.  No injustice done.  Then comes Drew.  He goes after the same bear, and wins it!  He grabs the bear and runs back to the table for everyone to share in his good fortune.  My thought process was this: "Yea! Drew, he did it, I am so proud of him, I can't believe.... oh no!  NO, don't run back to the table, DON'T SHOW ZACHARY!"  But there is Drew both hands holding this pink bear above his head like Simba above Pride Rock in triumph...right in front of Zachary.  And with tears in his eyes and anger in his heart, Zachary runs back to the machine with a 5 new dollars from Pop Pop to win his own prize.  Well, sad to say he never does and Nate seeing that Zachary gets to play so many times, unpacks his no fair attitude and begins to cry for his turn, only he has already spent his money and Pop Pop is out of dollars.  So we left the nice quiet restaurant with Zachary screaming in anger at the injustice of not winning, Nate crying about the lack of dollars and turns, and Drew dancing around with his new bear.  As we walked away with Nanna promising Zachary to buy him his own bear, Drew thinking of new songs to dance to with his bear in front of Zachary and Nate quiet because of a well-timed pacifier, I turn to Lindsey and tell her I've named the new bear "Victory: the Unfair bear."  And like all care bears that have a special power, Victory is able to shoot injustice out of his chest.
We return home to the sauna and boys decide that sleep is overrated especially since they skipped their naps today.  So after many veiled threats we all cried ourselves to sleep excited about the next day of vacation.

So ends Part 1,
The Joyful and Tired Dad

Bathroom Humor

For those of you who are easily offended by bathroom humor or are too disgusted when talking about all things toilet-related, this post isn't for you. But for those of you who can't help but laugh at a good fart, you are in for a treat.

I wanted to write down some stories about our boys and the toilet.  Because 1) I think they are hysterical, 2) so I won't forget these stories and 3) because I will have documented proof to embarrass them at a later date preferably high school graduation or their wedding reception. At this time I have officially potty-trained 3 boys for which I am going to make a t-shirt for myself and award myself a medal. I am still in talks with the mayor about earning a key to the city for this heroic feat but so far they've only offered a gold-plated plunger, which I will proudly accept and display on our mantle. Let me break down each kid individually.


Zachary:
At this time is 7 years old and has mastered the toilet. He being our first, we probably spent $500 - $1000 on all types of baby toilet seats, aiming targets for the toilet bowl, Playskool toilets that played songs when you flushed, and special educational DVDs like "Dora visits el bano" and "Thomas the Train goes toot toot at the station but poop poop in the potty." But of course, Zachary was going to potty train when he was good and ready. Don't you just hate those parents who say, "yes my little Jenny just looked at the potty and said 'I want to use that from now on' and we never had to do anything. She potty trained herself." But here I am looking into a recurring payment plan with Pampers due to the diaper debt and wondering if you'll be able to see the adult diaper under his graduation robe. Zachary waited and waited until he was ready. But he finally did get it.

One story I remember when he was 3. The back story is, like all parents, whenever Zachary would pee we would throw a "pee party" and cheer and yell because of the success. Well one time I took him into the men's restroom with me and had him stand against the wall while I washed my hands. Well another man came in to use the urinal and I could see Zachary curiously looking at him as we stood there in silence. And as soon as Zachary heard the pee hitting the urinal, Zachary yelled to me, "Daddy, HE DID IT!!!!!" So excited that this man was able to go pee pee in the urinal. He threw him his own "pee party." I always wonder if that was last time that man was ever able to pee in a urinal again.

Another story about Zachary and urinals. Around the same time in another public restroom and just discovering what they were, picked up a urinal cake and showed me, asking, "Daddy, what is this?" After throwing up and having him put it back, I replied, "well its poisonous and you only get to touch it once. So never touch it again if you want to live. Now lets go take a bath in bleach and never tell your mother." Well, actually I just screamed and told him never to touch it and had that same face you are wearing right now for about a week.


Drew:
Currently, as much as I am glad we are out of the diaper phase, I don't know if this next phase is any better: the butt-wiping phase. Now the 2 younger boys can hold their respective 1's and 2's, but I am still in charge of clean-up on aisle 2. Drew, the 4 year old, picked up "holding it" and making it to the toilet pretty quickly but he is still unsure of the hygiene part of toileting.

Lindsey tells the story of recently after Drew had gone poop in the potty, jumped up from the toilet and ran back into the living room to watch TV. Well he plopped down on the carpet and to Lindsey's horror, when he stood up there was a nice, round poop stain on the carpet. His butt cheeks had opened up to form a brown, stinky Rorschach test of poop on the carpet. It was a perfect butterfly or 2 goblets depending how you looked at it.

After much encouragement and training, we are getting him to wipe himself more. Of course just last week, I caught him taking all his dirty toilet paper and throwing it in the trash can instead of the toilet. But the best story is just yesterday he told me his process for checking himself. He told me after he poops, he always wipes his butt on the toilet seat and if there is poop on the seat, he has not gotten all of it yet. This explains a lot of things. Mysterious stains on the seat, recent extra toilet cleanings, and extra baths after the poop had spread down his legs, front and back.

Another Drew story back in May.  We were visiting my brother in Cincinnati for my nephews birthday party.  Everyone was outside after lunch playing in the yard or hanging out on the deck.  Drew went inside alone to poop.   When he was finished, he poked his head out of the bathroom and saw the only other person in the house, my brother’s mother – in – law.  Since she looked like a grandma, Drew said, “Excuse me.  Do you wipe butts?”  To which she replied, “I sure do,” and helped him out.  It reminds me of the old Chinese proverb, “the family that wipes together, stays together.”  Thanks Ramona.

Nate:
Our 2 year old was the fastest to grasp potty training and is also in the parental butt wiping phase. Not because he wants to be but because we demand it. If he had his way, he would always be pants-less and sitting on my pillow. The thing with Nate is that he has this need to mark his territory. Lindsey has found him standing in the pantry peeing on the potatoes. But who can blame him, he loves potatoes and those were now his. He also loves to stand on the bottom step of our deck, drop trough and pee on all the outdoor toys especially the ride-on toys that other kids love to play with. But to him, "if my dog can mark his tree, I can mark my toys. That will show them not to mess with my stuff." Thankfully I have not found pee-covered inside toys. But I am not too confident when I find a puddle in our house, its always the dog.

Nate also likes to play "poop fake". He will call me when he is ready to be wiped and let me get 3 good cleaning strokes in, then declare "more poop!" He will then proceed to have another poop marring all clean-up that I just did. Much like the "pump fake" in football, I fall for it every time. I think the stinker holds back half of his dump when he knows I am the wiper. He loves to "poop fake" me out.


Now you know some new things they don't teach you in "What to expect when you're expecting."

You're welcome,
The Joyful and Tired Dad

Differing Priorities

As an Ohio State Alumni and avid buckeye fan, I have a lot of pride in my Alma mater and love for the Ohio State football team. And like any Father, I look forward to imparting (or forcing) this love for my team to my son (or down his throat). So you can see why I had some high expectations when taking Zachary to Ohio State’s spring game at the Shoe on Saturday. I figured this would be a good practice run for when we would go to an actual game. This being the beginning of a long tradition of Father-Son Football Saturdays, going to the stadium year after year until one day as the first ever, 3 time Heisman winning quarterback of the Buckeyes, he hoists his 4th National Championship trophy above his head, will say to NBC sportscaster, “I couldn't have done this without the love and support of my father. And it all started because he took me to the OSU spring game when I was six and I fell in love with the game. Thanks Dad! Next stop the Superbowl!” But no pressure. I keep my future expectations low.

Well Zachary and I drive down to campus and park in the west campus parking lot with plans to take the CABS bus to the stadium. Now one of my memories of going to the OSU with my dad was parking far away, walking 2 miles to the stadium (to save money on parking), and my dad speed walking the whole time as he dodged in and out of the crowds like we were in an unspoken foot race with the rest of the fans with the ultimate goal of getting to our seats to then sit and wait for the game to start. I never understood what the rush was but it happened every time. So as Zachary and I were walking to the bus stop, I found myself walking faster and Zachary trailing behind. He was enjoying a leisurely stroll to the game as I was trying to bust tail to get our general admission seats with 30 minutes to go before the game started. We make it to the bus and we sit behind a dad with his 2 boys ages 4 and 5. As I am trying to point out the stadium and the twin towers as we get closer, Zachary begins a “poking” game with the 5 year old in front of him, not looking outside. We then walk to the stadium alongside Zachary’s new friends. And as thousands of OSU fans move toward the Horseshoe, among the chaos of the crowds and traffic, Zachary begins to play tag with his new friend. Dodging and weaving between people, getting in their way, stopping and starting, bumping into people. The priority for me was to take in the grandeur of the stadium as we approach and drink in the culture and comradery of OSU fans young and old coming together in one place to celebrate “our” team, and his priority was to not be “it.” As we get closer, we pull away from that family and go our separate ways because I know that if we were to sit by them, this game of tag would be the only game he cared about today.

We get into the stadium, grab some food, and find our seats. We are on A deck, so I am loving being so close. I have never and probably never will again be this close because I don’t give $5 million a year to the alumni association. The game starts and it holds his attention for about 10 minutes. And when I say “it”, I mean his hot dog. As expected, he is looking around and talking it all in. He watches the game when I point something out like “Look, number 5 has the football and he is going to pass it.” Otherwise, he looks at the scoreboard and around at the crowd. Then after the hot dog I notice that he is not watching the game at all but is strictly looking around at the crowd. He gets up walks away, comes back, and is generally very distracted. I finally ask him what he doing. I am thinking maybe he is looking for the bathroom or for more food or the awesomeness of OSU football is too much to take in and he is becoming emotional about his father bringing him to this significant moment in time where he falls in love with football and his entire collegiate career hangs on this moment where it all started. But he says to me, “I am looking for my new friend.” In a stadium of 60,000 people. So much for round 1 of the NFL draft. I tell him that he will probably not see his friend again because there are too many people here and he says to me, “But I didn’t get to say goodbye.” Doesn’t that melt your heart? I would have gone looking for him but there were probably 1000 other 5 year olds wearing red there so our chances for finding him were slim. After this I try to distract him by imparting my football wisdom to him. And in the middle of my telling him about the different plays and positions, he interrupts and yells “Brutus!” Apparently my fatherly wisdom about the game of football which was passed down to me by my father and now being passed down to my son was not as important as watching a guy wear a giant nut on his head as he twerked it to Rihanna.

After the Brutus booty show, we settle back in watching the game. Well, I am watching the game and he sitting quiet next to me. I decide to take out my phone to capture this beautiful moment on video. The massive waves of scarlet and gray , the roar of the crowd, the announcers calling plays, the team on the field, the gigantic scoreboard, etc. I get very sentimental, not believing that I will have documented proof of my first born son’s first Buckeye football game that we shared together that I can look back on and watch the awe and majesty in his eyes as he watches the game. And as I pan the crowd and the field and the scoreboard and drink in the moment as the band plays the fight song, I then pan to my eldest son…



Well it was only the Spring game, we'll try again in the fall...and not wear hats.
The Joyful and Tired Dad

Stay at Home Mom - The Religion

I am proud to present the newly formed Stay at Home Mom Religion - Mommyanity. Bring us your tired, your poor, your hungry, your spit-up on, your frazzled, your annoyed, your "I have had it up to here", your "done" and Mommyanity will give you rest.

The following images will get you acquainted with this new Stay at Home Mom religion:




Church




The Bible




The Father


Son


And Holy Spirit




The Choir




Sunday Best (the belt and high heel boots really dress up the sweats)




Church Service (One hour out of the week devoted to love and judgement)




Baptism (Symbolizes Death to Life and a special occasion when it happens)




Communion

Heaven



Hell

Small Group/Bible Study




Community Outreach/Service Projects









May Oprah be with you,
The Joyful and Tired Dad

An Innocent Conversation

We were driving in the van, me in the front seat, Nate in the middle row, and Zachary and Drew in the back seat. Everything was great and nobody was yelling, crying or throwing things, so it was an unusual. We had just returned from taking a walk in the park and playing on the playground in 30 degree weather. So I believe everyone was probably just defrosting. I had coats for everyone of them too so I was feeling pretty proud as a father. Not because we had left the house with coats on (because we didn't) but because once we got to the park, I ingeniously remembered that children tend to freeze in 40 degree weather and I happened to have all their coats/sweatshirts in the van from before. So I, responsibly, put on all the coats before our hike. You might not think that was a big deal, but to me I am impressed that they were all wearing shoes AND socks and 1 out of 3 was wearing underwear...maybe.

Anyway, we were driving home and I hear this little conversation strike up in the back seat. Drew turns to Zachary and with a puffed out chest and stern conviction, he very proudly announces, "I am the only one in this family who eats his own boogers!" To which I reply "NO. Do not eat your own boogers." So hearing the anguish in my voice, Zachary, our responsible child who is always trying to do right, says to Drew, "No Drew, you do not eat your own boogers around other people. You need to wait till you get home then you can eat them." And Drew non-chalantly answers "Oh,yeah. OK." To which I reply again, "No. We do not eat our own boogers." So picking up on my intonation and not my meaning, retracts his statement and says to Drew, "Oh, that's right. You need to wait till you get in your own room, and then you can eat your own boogers." Now without laughing, losing my own credibility and without crashing the car, I turn back and as seriously as possible state, "NO! It does not matter where you eat them. The point is you do no eat them at all!" I felt like I could now write my own Dr. Seuss book.

"Boogers boogers, up in there.
You do not eat them anywhere
Not where people can try to see
Not at home, while you pee.
Not in your room all alone
Not in the car or on the phone.
Do not taste them anywhere
Do not eat them, don't you dare.

Boogers boogers up in your nose
leave them there so no one knows
If you need to get them out
Grab a tissue and blow your snout
Not with a finger or a nail
cause more than likely, you will fail.
Cause as your nose begins to bleed
Daddy is judged by all who see.

So my new book "Oh the places you'll go - Nose Edition" will be released in summer 2012.

The Joyful and Tired Dad

Its the Most Wonderful Time of the Year!

So my choices today were to either write this blog or cry myself to sleep. And you are now reading my choice. It is now 3 days before Christmas and you would expect everyone to be excited about the coming Holiday and waiting in joyous anticipation to the promises of presents and Christmas meals and treats and gathering with your families to share this magical holiday season together, right? Well, not so much. Let me tell you about my day.

It begins at 5:30 with Nate crying in his room. When Nate wakes up, no one will get him to go back to sleep. So the alternative is to sleep on his floor while he babbles to himself and tries not to wake up the other 2. He finally starts talking loud enough at 7 that we exit the room to find out everyone else has been up already. Nate then joins Drew in a beautiful duet of whining and crying for food while breakfast cooks (and by "cooks" I mean microwavable sausage). So this is the first sign of a "good day." I leave for work, thankfully, and begin my day with 2 phone calls from my wife before I even arrive to work. They are not stress calls...yet. But the third call at 9:15 is. She and the kids have all officially lost it. In the hour that I have been gone, Drew hit Nate across the face with a foam nunchuk, Drew gets disciplined, Drew fights against discipline, Nate cries and screams at Lindsey, Lindsey cries and screams at me, and at the end of her irrational rant I get blamed for not doing the dishes or buying her a COSI/zoo membership, and get hung up on. I call back and tell her I will be home early. Not by choice but by necessity. After this phone call she takes the kids to the grocery store. When she is there, Zachary and Drew are put in the Eagle's nest. Nate stays with Lindsey and whines 85% of the time. Zachary and Drew get in a fight and the Giant Eagle worker breaks them up only to get back-talked to by Zachary. Lindsey gets paged to come pick up her unruly children. Once Drew is released, he runs to the candy aisle and steals 3 gummy sharks. Lindsey sweeps his mouth with her finger to clear it of the stolen merchandise and informs the Giant Eagle worker of the theft while Drew throws a fit on the floor screaming for everyone to turn and look. Then Drew gets up and runs out of the store. Lindsey leaves the other two to chase down the sprinting 3 year old, drags him back into the store, kicking and screaming, to join Nate who has started his own screaming chorus of the popular toddler anthem, "I Want, I Want, Gimme, Gimme, Why, AAAAAAAHHHHHH." She checks out and takes them to the car. Zachary begins to cry because not only did he not get a free cookie but he is not allowed to watch TV as a consequence for his behavior toward that adult worker. So she has achieved the "Crying Tifecta." All 3 losing their minds. It was at this point I had conveniently called her to ask for a recipe for a co-worker. I have perfect timing.

I came home and luckily avoided the trio of banshees because they were all down for their afternoon naps. Lindsey was able to join her mom to get her nails done as a stress reliever from this morning's chaos. I eat lunch and lay down on the couch to take a short power nap. I have 40 minutes until Zachary comes out of his room and no joke, 5 minutes after I close my eyes, Drew crys out. I run up, give him the Ipod touch to play a game, and I go back to lie down, 35 minutes left. At 5 more minutes, Zachary comes out and says he is so hungry he cant stand it. I tell him to stand it and get back in his room. 30 minutes left. I fall asleep. At 25 minutes left, Drew calls out again cause he is bored. I get him out and put him in Zachary's room. 25 minutes left. I fall asleep. Zachary opens his door. I tell him to shut it and if he opens again, I am adding time to his quiet time or to him, sentence. 15 minutes left. The door opens again. Now Drew is checking on the puppy. I tell him to wait. 10 minutes left. At 5 minutes and every minute after I hear loudly from their room, "5 more minutes. 4 more minutes. 3 more minutes..." So much for the power nap.

Lindsey comes home from the nail appointment and everyone is up and crazy. I tell her we are going to the store. She says "I hope not Target or Toys R Us 3 days before Christmas." And I say, "yes, because you know why? Because it is not here!" We run some errands and go to a nice dinner at Olive Garden. No mishaps or horseplay like the Mexican restaurant. The kids are great but Lindsey is not feeling too well.

We go to CVS to pick some medicine and while there Lindsey runs to the Minute Clinic to get checked out and I wait in the car with the boys. I leave the TV running in the car and the lights on. Drew also likes to have his overhead light on even though I've told him to turn it off while I am driving and while parked cause it could drain the battery. Lindsey is taking longer than expected at the Minute Clinic so I tell her we will still wait cause the boys are content with the TV in the van. But I notice the check engine light and oil light start coming on. Then the lights flicker. So I try to turn the car on and like "Up on the Housetop," click, click, click. But instead of "down the chimney with old St. Nick," the car wont start. To which Zachary immediately yells, "DREW!!! YOU BROKE THE CAR!!!" Now usually he is to blame for almost everything, but not this time. The alternator broke. So here we sit in the parking lot, stranded, 3 days before Christmas, with no TV. Well, it comes on for 10 seconds then shuts off, giving Nate a 1 second delay to begin screaming about it. And to top it all off, Zachary gets the farts. Now our windows have all steamed up as Zachary hot boxes the van while we wait for Lindsey's parents to show for a ride back home. The van will now need to be towed and get a new alternator 2 days before Christmas. When we load the kids in the back of my mother-in-law's small sedan in the rain, Zachary gets caught on Nate's left leg which we think he broke on Saturday. (the x-ray was negative, but he still wont weight bear and has been crawling around everywhere.) So as Nate cries so hard he cant make a sound, Lindsey picks him up to cradle him. By the way, she also just found out she has a double ear infection. Sing with me now, "Its the most wonderful time of the year!"

I am not writing this blog for sympathy but for acknowledgement of "Really??!!" I mean, 3 days before Christmas? I can guarantee you this was not the kind of White Christmas Bing Crosby was dreaming of. More like a broken leg, double ear infection, broken alternator, Drew screaming, Zachary blaming, Nate Crying, Dutch Oven Christmas.

Looking forward to spending Christmas Eve with an x-ray technician and a car repair man,
The Joyful and Tired Dad