It was one of those dinners. In theory, a nicely planned dinner out with the family where we would laugh and joke, share our hopes and dreams and enjoy each other's companies while literally writing the memories on our hearts that we will share for years to come about this wonderful meal we would share together. But that didn't happen. Here's what did.
We had just finished a nice afternoon at the playgorund where all 3 boys were able to run and play and enjoy themselves. But in parent terms it accomplished 2 things: 1) it was a time-killer till bedtime and 2) it was an energy-burner to make sure bed time happened soon and it would go smoothly. So next time you are at a park and you see parents encouraging their children to keep playing and keeping running, its not because they want them to have fun, its because its something to do and its to ensure an easy, quick bedtime.
Side note: As an adult your day/week is typically broken up by meals, work, weekends and social activities. Things you are looking forward to. Such as, "I can't wait till lunch. We are meeting up with my friend at this new restaurant." or "Saturday night is volleyball! I just have to make it through one more day." But as a parent, your day is broken up only by children sleeping. Such as, "Lets make it through lunch, then its nap time!" Or there's only 4 more hours till bedtime then....FREEDOM!!!"
I faced this today, when after naptime ended, I looked at the clock and thought, "what are we supposed to do for 5 more hours?" It was that dreaded time of day every parent fears, A.N. or T.B. Either timeframe will suffice and all parents should know it. If you say to another parent, "Its 4 T.B." They know its 4 hours "Till Bedtime". Or 2 A.N. 2 hours "After Nap." The count down is always ticking in every parents head. Its what replaces the biological clock in a person after they have had a child.
So luckily we came up with the playground idea. After the playground, we decided to get dinner at our favorite Mexican restaurant. A little torilla chips and quesadillas, what could go wrong? So we go and the kids start snacking immediately on torilla chips. This is wonderful cause you dont have to wait for a waiter to scrounge up crackers or croutons while you attempt to keep your child entertained by coloring a crappy drawing of a generic cartoon bird while they fight over who gets the blue crayon for 20 mintues until your food arrives. Sorry Applebee's but its true. Well they are all eating chips and I am enjoying the salsa until my 20 month old starts reaching for it as well. So of course, I give it to him. And he loves it! Pretty soon, the chips are just a means to an end, while he is shoveling only the salsa into his mouth, no longer eating the chips. I love Mexican places because they also bring your food so quickly. So their quesadillas come, but problem...they have chicken and peppers in them! I tell Zachary, the 6 year old, not to look inside like it will spoil the mystery of why its so good but he realizes its because once he sees its not cheese only, he will not eat it. So he is now only eating the fries that came with it. Drew, the 3 year old, is only eating the fries as well because if Zachary wont eat it, he wont either. But he does want ketchup with his fries. Of course after taking 2 bites of fries with ketchup he no longer wants the ketchup and no longer wants it on his plate either. We convince him after much arguing that he should keep it on his plate cause there is nowhere else to put a tablespoon of loose ketchup. But now after seeing this debate, Nate, the 20 month old now wants ketchup too. So at this point, Nate is now only eating salsa and ketchup for dinner! And apparently also heard from latest Vogue magazine that these 2 items were the latest fashion trend in Paris this season, so decided to spread both all over his face, arms and clothing. And during this whole scene, Drew is trying to return to the womb by being all over Lindsey and not letting her eat without being touched for 2 seconds. I am also convinced that Moms have some kind of internal magnet that causes their children to be touching them 24 hours a day. Its like the child can not help but touch them. But if they are not touching, chemical receptors fire in the child's brain to make them complain about something until they can be up in Mom's business again. So Drew is wiggling and jumping all over Lindsey despite the repeated asking for him to stop. When he does, he picks up his full cup of water, was asked to return it to the table, ignored that command, took the top off, and "accidentally" dropped into Lindsey's purse. Not around it. Not spilled the water that eventually washed to her purse. Literally poured the whole cup into the purse. Cell phone was pulled out dripping including the wallet and all other soaked pieces of paper. At this point, Lindsey stands up and announces "I'm done. We are leaving." While she goes to find the waiter, who checked on us 5 times in the first 5 minutes of our meal but now when we need him, has gone underground, joined the witness protection agency, and requires an APB and a whole search party to join hands and walk across the cornfield together to find him, Drew is wet and screaming, wont sit down and demands to go with mommy to find the Lindberg baby waiter. So I am now telling him to sit, telling Zachary to finish his dinner of chips and fries, and attempting unsuccessfully to wipe down the tomato-stained Tyra Banks. We finally get the check, pay it quickly, grab the kids and exit stage left. We go quickly because 1) Its 20 min T.B. and 2) We dont want to see the face of the bus boy that has to clean up our mess cause that is instant guilt. Its better not to know. We know the responsibility that comes with cleaning up after our family dinner. The only difference between eating out and eating in is that when we eat in, we have a dog that does 80% of the clean-up. As evidenced by her 50 pounds of extra body fat. She may be overweight, but our floors stay clean and she gets fed. Its a win win.
So that was our wonderful dinner out which makes me begin to understand why "kids eat free on Tuesday night ONLY." They must have extra bus boys on staff on Tuesdays. Or they bring in overweight dogs to clean up at the end of the night.
Off to clean our salsa/ketchup stained bathtub and to air out a purse,
THe Joyful and Tired Dad
Saturday, May 14, 2011
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
The Gatlinburg Vacation...I mean, Trip.
It was once explained to me that a vacation is a time you get away for relaxation. But a Trip is a time you get away... but with kids. (You see how I left out the "relaxation" part. So we just returned from our Gatlinburg "Trip."
We left Sunday day for the 7 hour minivan ride with me, Lindsey, and our 3 boys to Gatlinburg, Tennessee. The car ride was pretty uneventful, thanks to an in-car DVD player and plenty of snacks. There were 2 gas stops and one lunch stop. You may be thinking, "that was not a whole lot of stops for 7 hours" but we planned ahead and everyone was wearing diapers to cut out those unnecessary "bathroom breaks." When we arrived at Gatlinburg, we met my brother and his family along with my parents at a cabin in the Smoky mountains. When my brother asked Zachary how his trip was, Zachary answered, "Awesome!!!!!" which was news to me. He proceeded to tell him how we made 2 stops at a gas stations and got ring pops at both stops and got a McDonald's happy meal, with toy!
In our beautiful 3 story cabin, we got the upstairs room with private bathroom with included bidet. My 4 year old nephew told us this news when we arrived by stating, "you guys have an awesome bathroom and guess what is in it? A butt washer!!" Well apparently our boys did not hear what the bidet was used for because later that day Lindsey calls me upstairs. I go up and she tells me Zachary needs to take a shower. I look at Zachary whose face and head are dripping wet. She then tells me that Zachary decided to wash his face in the bidet, and now required a shower. Who would have thought washing your face would later necessitate a shower? Then later, Lindsey again calls me up and shows me a dripping wet Drew, and proceeds to tell me that he not only washed his face but took a drink from the bidet as well. And to make a triple play, that same day I caught Nate pulling used toilet paper out of the toilet.
The next day we went hiking with the 2 grandparents, my brother and his wife, Lindsey and I, and the 7 grandboys (3 of ours and 4 of my brothers). We went up the Rainbow Falls trail all along the mountain river giving us multiple opportunities to jump the rocks, pick up salamanders, walk across fallen trees over the river, and give Lindsey multiple "mom heart attacks" and freak-out moments. But she did so well letting boys be boys and kept her shouts of warnings to herself so that the boys could build confidence on their own and learn to be adventurous without someone holding their hands. It was a very poignant "kick them out of the nest and hope they fly" moment for her and luckily she and the boys did well. No one fell in or was hurt, except maybe the permanent fingernail marks left in Lindsey's hands from stress.
On the way down the mountain, I walked with my nephew Will who is 6 and my 2nd, Drew who is 3. Well Will loves to move and move fast especially when hiking. The only problem is that Drew wanted to hold his hand and mine as we walked down the mountain and his legs are half as long as Will's. So we went down the rocky, tree-limbed path at break-neck speed with Will in the lead pulling Drew and I down as fast as his little legs would allow. But I swear, Drew fell most of the way down the trail, with only Will and I holding him up. At one point I wondered if he was doing it on purpose but then I realized "I am having a hard time keeping up with the 6 year old, how is Drew doing it?" He would take 3 steps then all of the sudden he was hanging in mid-air, then 4 steps then mid-air, 3 steps, mid-air, etc. Will even turned around and said, "Stop doing that" to Drew but he couldn't help it. But bless his heart, Drew would not stop holding our hands. Probably cause he knew if he did, he would roll down the rest of the way!
That evening we went to a pizza parlor with a game room. The boys loved running around and playing games but Grandpa stopped me and told me that Drew needed to go to the bathroom. When I was about to take him, I noticed he didn't have to...he already started to. So what does any good dad do in that situation? I took him to mom. So we go to the patio where we are sitting and while we are discussing what to do, Drew takes his pants and underwear down on the patio and stands there for all to see. But not only that, he also begins peeing on the patio too. He might as well finish what he started, right? Luckily my brother has an extra pair of shorts from there 2 year old for Drew to wear, so crisis averted. Except for the wet spot we had to keep avoiding the rest of dinner. But for some reason, our 2 oldest boys kept having to go to the bathroom. I went to that pizza parlor bathroom 5 times for only 2 kids. Drew had to pee 2x, poop 1x, and Zachary pee 2x. Its not like they had a lot to drink, but for some reason, they saved a little bit each time they went. It was more popular than the arcade room. I thought about just staying in there, putting out a tip jar and handing out toilettes for the rest of the evening. It would have saved me 5 trips and I would have made a little extra vacation money.
Notice the pee stain on the floor.
The next day we went to the Aquarium in Gatlinburg where the thing Zachary most wanted to see was the gift shop. The second most important thing there, lunch. And one hour and $65 later, we left. The joys of parenting. He would have been more happy to eat lunch at home and go to the free playground down the road. But does he tell you that before or after you have spent the money and the frustration? And get this, they wont give you your money back if your kid is ungrateful for taking them to the aquarium. That is not a valid "reason for refund." I think most places should have the "ungrateful" clause built into their business. If a child does not fully appreciate the nice thing you were trying to do for them, 100% money back guarantee. It would take the pressure off Christmas and any Wendy's kids meal toy. I mean come on. What kid wants a DVD in their kids meal?
That night before dinner, Zachary went around with his cousin Will collecting caterpillars. (Another mom freak-out moment that Lindsey successfully navigated.) Will collected then in this green Easter egg. The day before, grandpa had handed these Easter eggs out filled with skittles. Now Will used it as his make-shift caterpillar collector. He must have had 20-30 caterpillars collected in this egg before dinner and put the closed egg on the table. Well, at the end of dinner, Drew decides to grab this egg and retrieve some delicious skittles for an after-dinner desert. It was like a candid camera, funniest home video moment. He opened the egg, and the caterpillars literally sprang from this egg! He freaked out so much, he screamed and jumped, he had the "gross-out" shiver as these things went everywhere! All over the dinner table, grandma, the floor, everywhere! It was so funny to watch his absolute moment of surprise and terror as his would-be skittles turned into 30 caterpillars.
The next day we packed up and headed home for the 7 hour car ride back. And let me tell you, I am not exaggerating when I say this, Lindsey is my witness to this, but Nate our 18 month old, screamed the entire 7 hours home! Part of the time he was upset, the other part I think he like to hear himself scream. Because he would scream then laugh at himself, then scream again and then laugh. If you want to know what it was like, record a screaming baby for 3 seconds, put on headphones, turn it up to 11 (Spinal Tap the movie reference), put it on continuous repeat, lock your self in a 3'x4' area, add annoying high-pitched cartoon character voices in the background from the DVD playing, with an undercurrent of a 3 year old and 5 year old arguing about who is or is not the parent, and stay in this place for 9 hours. You are allowed a 1 hour break for lunch, but then continue the noise-mageddon. And when Nate was not screaming, he was eating and eating and eating. It was the only thing that prevented the screaming was to have his mouth full. Lindsey and I both agreed that he probably consumed 5000 calories on the trip home. And you could tell what he ate because he wore most of it on his outfit and face.
Did Nate take his morning nap? for 30 minutes. Did Nate and/or Drew take their afternoon nap? Not one head nod. Not to mention, Nate is not only into the game of "If I drop something, they will pick it up, no matter how many times I drop it," but he is also into the game of "how far can I launch my pacifier and goldfish across the van." Yep, I was hit multiple times with his pacifier while driving. The thoughts that ran through my head during Screamfest 2011:
-After 7 hours, wouldn't he be hoarse by now?
-How many bones will I break going 65 mph on the highway if I were to abandon ship?
-Should I put my arms out in front of me to brace my fall or just tuck and roll?
-What illegal thing would I have to do and how long would I get to spend in jail before they would post bail? Is it worth one peaceful, quiet night of sleep?
-How expensive would it be to buy a hotel room for each of the kids to keep them separated from each other and me for one night?
-Where is the closet airport?
and the always popular:
-Why God? Why me?
Well, we made it home safely and in one piece. We had fun and made memories which is the most important part of the family vacation. The sad part is the memories that will stick with them will be about ring pops, gift shops, and bidets.
Hoping our trips will be vacations someday,
The Joyful and Tired Dad
We left Sunday day for the 7 hour minivan ride with me, Lindsey, and our 3 boys to Gatlinburg, Tennessee. The car ride was pretty uneventful, thanks to an in-car DVD player and plenty of snacks. There were 2 gas stops and one lunch stop. You may be thinking, "that was not a whole lot of stops for 7 hours" but we planned ahead and everyone was wearing diapers to cut out those unnecessary "bathroom breaks." When we arrived at Gatlinburg, we met my brother and his family along with my parents at a cabin in the Smoky mountains. When my brother asked Zachary how his trip was, Zachary answered, "Awesome!!!!!" which was news to me. He proceeded to tell him how we made 2 stops at a gas stations and got ring pops at both stops and got a McDonald's happy meal, with toy!
In our beautiful 3 story cabin, we got the upstairs room with private bathroom with included bidet. My 4 year old nephew told us this news when we arrived by stating, "you guys have an awesome bathroom and guess what is in it? A butt washer!!" Well apparently our boys did not hear what the bidet was used for because later that day Lindsey calls me upstairs. I go up and she tells me Zachary needs to take a shower. I look at Zachary whose face and head are dripping wet. She then tells me that Zachary decided to wash his face in the bidet, and now required a shower. Who would have thought washing your face would later necessitate a shower? Then later, Lindsey again calls me up and shows me a dripping wet Drew, and proceeds to tell me that he not only washed his face but took a drink from the bidet as well. And to make a triple play, that same day I caught Nate pulling used toilet paper out of the toilet.
The next day we went hiking with the 2 grandparents, my brother and his wife, Lindsey and I, and the 7 grandboys (3 of ours and 4 of my brothers). We went up the Rainbow Falls trail all along the mountain river giving us multiple opportunities to jump the rocks, pick up salamanders, walk across fallen trees over the river, and give Lindsey multiple "mom heart attacks" and freak-out moments. But she did so well letting boys be boys and kept her shouts of warnings to herself so that the boys could build confidence on their own and learn to be adventurous without someone holding their hands. It was a very poignant "kick them out of the nest and hope they fly" moment for her and luckily she and the boys did well. No one fell in or was hurt, except maybe the permanent fingernail marks left in Lindsey's hands from stress.
On the way down the mountain, I walked with my nephew Will who is 6 and my 2nd, Drew who is 3. Well Will loves to move and move fast especially when hiking. The only problem is that Drew wanted to hold his hand and mine as we walked down the mountain and his legs are half as long as Will's. So we went down the rocky, tree-limbed path at break-neck speed with Will in the lead pulling Drew and I down as fast as his little legs would allow. But I swear, Drew fell most of the way down the trail, with only Will and I holding him up. At one point I wondered if he was doing it on purpose but then I realized "I am having a hard time keeping up with the 6 year old, how is Drew doing it?" He would take 3 steps then all of the sudden he was hanging in mid-air, then 4 steps then mid-air, 3 steps, mid-air, etc. Will even turned around and said, "Stop doing that" to Drew but he couldn't help it. But bless his heart, Drew would not stop holding our hands. Probably cause he knew if he did, he would roll down the rest of the way!
That evening we went to a pizza parlor with a game room. The boys loved running around and playing games but Grandpa stopped me and told me that Drew needed to go to the bathroom. When I was about to take him, I noticed he didn't have to...he already started to. So what does any good dad do in that situation? I took him to mom. So we go to the patio where we are sitting and while we are discussing what to do, Drew takes his pants and underwear down on the patio and stands there for all to see. But not only that, he also begins peeing on the patio too. He might as well finish what he started, right? Luckily my brother has an extra pair of shorts from there 2 year old for Drew to wear, so crisis averted. Except for the wet spot we had to keep avoiding the rest of dinner. But for some reason, our 2 oldest boys kept having to go to the bathroom. I went to that pizza parlor bathroom 5 times for only 2 kids. Drew had to pee 2x, poop 1x, and Zachary pee 2x. Its not like they had a lot to drink, but for some reason, they saved a little bit each time they went. It was more popular than the arcade room. I thought about just staying in there, putting out a tip jar and handing out toilettes for the rest of the evening. It would have saved me 5 trips and I would have made a little extra vacation money.
Notice the pee stain on the floor.The next day we went to the Aquarium in Gatlinburg where the thing Zachary most wanted to see was the gift shop. The second most important thing there, lunch. And one hour and $65 later, we left. The joys of parenting. He would have been more happy to eat lunch at home and go to the free playground down the road. But does he tell you that before or after you have spent the money and the frustration? And get this, they wont give you your money back if your kid is ungrateful for taking them to the aquarium. That is not a valid "reason for refund." I think most places should have the "ungrateful" clause built into their business. If a child does not fully appreciate the nice thing you were trying to do for them, 100% money back guarantee. It would take the pressure off Christmas and any Wendy's kids meal toy. I mean come on. What kid wants a DVD in their kids meal?
That night before dinner, Zachary went around with his cousin Will collecting caterpillars. (Another mom freak-out moment that Lindsey successfully navigated.) Will collected then in this green Easter egg. The day before, grandpa had handed these Easter eggs out filled with skittles. Now Will used it as his make-shift caterpillar collector. He must have had 20-30 caterpillars collected in this egg before dinner and put the closed egg on the table. Well, at the end of dinner, Drew decides to grab this egg and retrieve some delicious skittles for an after-dinner desert. It was like a candid camera, funniest home video moment. He opened the egg, and the caterpillars literally sprang from this egg! He freaked out so much, he screamed and jumped, he had the "gross-out" shiver as these things went everywhere! All over the dinner table, grandma, the floor, everywhere! It was so funny to watch his absolute moment of surprise and terror as his would-be skittles turned into 30 caterpillars.
The next day we packed up and headed home for the 7 hour car ride back. And let me tell you, I am not exaggerating when I say this, Lindsey is my witness to this, but Nate our 18 month old, screamed the entire 7 hours home! Part of the time he was upset, the other part I think he like to hear himself scream. Because he would scream then laugh at himself, then scream again and then laugh. If you want to know what it was like, record a screaming baby for 3 seconds, put on headphones, turn it up to 11 (Spinal Tap the movie reference), put it on continuous repeat, lock your self in a 3'x4' area, add annoying high-pitched cartoon character voices in the background from the DVD playing, with an undercurrent of a 3 year old and 5 year old arguing about who is or is not the parent, and stay in this place for 9 hours. You are allowed a 1 hour break for lunch, but then continue the noise-mageddon. And when Nate was not screaming, he was eating and eating and eating. It was the only thing that prevented the screaming was to have his mouth full. Lindsey and I both agreed that he probably consumed 5000 calories on the trip home. And you could tell what he ate because he wore most of it on his outfit and face.
Did Nate take his morning nap? for 30 minutes. Did Nate and/or Drew take their afternoon nap? Not one head nod. Not to mention, Nate is not only into the game of "If I drop something, they will pick it up, no matter how many times I drop it," but he is also into the game of "how far can I launch my pacifier and goldfish across the van." Yep, I was hit multiple times with his pacifier while driving. The thoughts that ran through my head during Screamfest 2011:
-After 7 hours, wouldn't he be hoarse by now?
-How many bones will I break going 65 mph on the highway if I were to abandon ship?
-Should I put my arms out in front of me to brace my fall or just tuck and roll?
-What illegal thing would I have to do and how long would I get to spend in jail before they would post bail? Is it worth one peaceful, quiet night of sleep?
-How expensive would it be to buy a hotel room for each of the kids to keep them separated from each other and me for one night?
-Where is the closet airport?
and the always popular:
-Why God? Why me?
Well, we made it home safely and in one piece. We had fun and made memories which is the most important part of the family vacation. The sad part is the memories that will stick with them will be about ring pops, gift shops, and bidets.
Hoping our trips will be vacations someday,
The Joyful and Tired Dad
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
A Beautiful Water Birth
It was so beautiful, so organic, so natural, so awe-inspiring....then everyone ran in fear!
It all started at bath time. There were signs but I chose to ignore them. The first and most important sign was after I took off Nate's diaper in the bath, somehting small and brown fell out. If I was proactive, I would have investigated and learned the truth but so many different things have fallen out of his diaper before, how was I supposed to know it was the most obvious thing. But speaking to other parents, will someone please explain how a child wearing a onesie, pants, a shirt, and a sweatshirt, strapped to a highchair with a tray table over his lap, still manage to magically put green beans or carrots into his diaper during dinner. I mean, I think David Copperfield could film his next show featuring my child. Have a random audience member change his diaper and after one meal, reveal 4 of the 5 food items at dinner fall out of that same diaper. The grand finale would the 5th item found in the random audience member's shirt when they get changed that night. Has that ever happened to you? You take your shirt off at night and as it falls to your floor you think to yourself, "When did I eat bananas today?" only to realize the 18 month old did at breakfast!
So needless to say I didn't think anything of it, just picked it up and threw it into the toilet. Well the other boys jumped in the tub and bath time went as planned. Soap, rinse, repeat. As the boys were playing and I was grabbing a towel, the beautiful water birth occured! I realized this because Zachary yells, "Daddy, Nate pooped in the tub!!!" And sure enough, 2 little floaters joined the 3 kids and other toys floating around our tub. To which, I screamed, "Everyone out of the tub!" You would have thought Jaws himself was just spotted in the water. There was screaming and splashing and slipping and shear panic as they ran from the soggy tootsie rolls. As I was drying off Nate, Drew looks in the tub and starts sobbing and crying out "Mickey, no Mickey," as one of the Baby Ruths touches his Mickey Mouse bath toy. Like a wounded soldier, left behind to face the enemy, Drew mourned his loss until we could reassure him that Mickey would be ok after a dishwater bath of his own. And at the same time, Zachary tripped on nothing and fell down hurting his elbow. So after a shower, the 3 boys were clean...again.
There was a Spirit of Defication on our house today. It started at 5:30 am when our new 3 month old puppy, Joey, had diarhea in his cage during the night. Here is the succession of the following bowel movements: 2 more Joey diarhea piles in the house, then Nate pooped, then Drew, then a lull, then Joey had a second bath due to an accident, then Drew, then Zachary, then Joey in his cage again (3rd bath,) then Nate's water deuce, then Drew again. We're having someone come over tomorrow to pray for defication deliverance.
Sorry if this was too graphic or vulgar for some but it is truth. A hard truth for those non-parents out there unaware about this side of parenting. But a soft truth for those parents who deal with this stuff everyday. A soft, mooshy, water-logged, floating truth.
Now I am off to clorox the tub, the dog cage, the shower, and myself,
The Joyful and Tired Dad
It all started at bath time. There were signs but I chose to ignore them. The first and most important sign was after I took off Nate's diaper in the bath, somehting small and brown fell out. If I was proactive, I would have investigated and learned the truth but so many different things have fallen out of his diaper before, how was I supposed to know it was the most obvious thing. But speaking to other parents, will someone please explain how a child wearing a onesie, pants, a shirt, and a sweatshirt, strapped to a highchair with a tray table over his lap, still manage to magically put green beans or carrots into his diaper during dinner. I mean, I think David Copperfield could film his next show featuring my child. Have a random audience member change his diaper and after one meal, reveal 4 of the 5 food items at dinner fall out of that same diaper. The grand finale would the 5th item found in the random audience member's shirt when they get changed that night. Has that ever happened to you? You take your shirt off at night and as it falls to your floor you think to yourself, "When did I eat bananas today?" only to realize the 18 month old did at breakfast!
So needless to say I didn't think anything of it, just picked it up and threw it into the toilet. Well the other boys jumped in the tub and bath time went as planned. Soap, rinse, repeat. As the boys were playing and I was grabbing a towel, the beautiful water birth occured! I realized this because Zachary yells, "Daddy, Nate pooped in the tub!!!" And sure enough, 2 little floaters joined the 3 kids and other toys floating around our tub. To which, I screamed, "Everyone out of the tub!" You would have thought Jaws himself was just spotted in the water. There was screaming and splashing and slipping and shear panic as they ran from the soggy tootsie rolls. As I was drying off Nate, Drew looks in the tub and starts sobbing and crying out "Mickey, no Mickey," as one of the Baby Ruths touches his Mickey Mouse bath toy. Like a wounded soldier, left behind to face the enemy, Drew mourned his loss until we could reassure him that Mickey would be ok after a dishwater bath of his own. And at the same time, Zachary tripped on nothing and fell down hurting his elbow. So after a shower, the 3 boys were clean...again.
There was a Spirit of Defication on our house today. It started at 5:30 am when our new 3 month old puppy, Joey, had diarhea in his cage during the night. Here is the succession of the following bowel movements: 2 more Joey diarhea piles in the house, then Nate pooped, then Drew, then a lull, then Joey had a second bath due to an accident, then Drew, then Zachary, then Joey in his cage again (3rd bath,) then Nate's water deuce, then Drew again. We're having someone come over tomorrow to pray for defication deliverance.
Sorry if this was too graphic or vulgar for some but it is truth. A hard truth for those non-parents out there unaware about this side of parenting. But a soft truth for those parents who deal with this stuff everyday. A soft, mooshy, water-logged, floating truth.
Now I am off to clorox the tub, the dog cage, the shower, and myself,
The Joyful and Tired Dad
Sunday, December 12, 2010
A winter prayer
Dear Lord,
I know you created the heavens and the earth. You created all seasons, from the beauty of falling leaves in autumn to the wonderful falling snow of winter. And you also created children, from their innocent look on life to their joy and laughter about the littlest of things. You made everything good. But when you add the two of these things together, winter and children, why, oh why God, didn’t You create children’s winter gloves that easily go on little hands? I know there are thousands of types of gloves that are made for kids so why can’t I find a pair that will keep their hands warm but also will take less than an hour to put on a glove while my 5 year old dances around, ready to go outside and getting more and more frustrated every minute. He wants to “do it himself” but when unable he refuses to ask for help. When attempting to help him, he then yells “No I want to do it myself, but I can’t do it, but don’t help me, but I can’t do it.” So when he finally lets me, it seems someone has applied glue to his middle finger and ring finger because they will continually go into the same glove finger. And when they are finally separated, I lose the pinky. I know it’s in there but for some reason it’s gone. I do finally find the pinky but only after he makes a fist pulling the other 3 fingers out of their individual finger holes that we just spent 10 minutes doing. Thank you for making the thumb so easy. It’s the only reason I keep going because it gives hope that the other 4 will go in eventually. So after all fingers are in their respective holes, there are still 2 inches of fingerless glove fabric at the end of each glove finger so we do the awkward “stretch the kids arm out straight, tell him to stretch out his fingers, brace him against a wall, and shove the glove as hard as you can down onto his hand.” It is at this point he decides to loose all the joints in fingers so it’s like putting a glove onto 5 wet noodles. Eventually all fingers are in the correct finger holes and in their proper position and its time to do the other hand. He then informs me that he must go to the bathroom. So we took the glove off, he went potty and when he returned, I put him in mittens.
Lord, thank you for creating winter and snow and children and even winter gloves. But most of all, thank you for the easiest solution to putting winter gloves on kids: mom.
Looking forward to spring,
The Joyful and Tired Dad
I know you created the heavens and the earth. You created all seasons, from the beauty of falling leaves in autumn to the wonderful falling snow of winter. And you also created children, from their innocent look on life to their joy and laughter about the littlest of things. You made everything good. But when you add the two of these things together, winter and children, why, oh why God, didn’t You create children’s winter gloves that easily go on little hands? I know there are thousands of types of gloves that are made for kids so why can’t I find a pair that will keep their hands warm but also will take less than an hour to put on a glove while my 5 year old dances around, ready to go outside and getting more and more frustrated every minute. He wants to “do it himself” but when unable he refuses to ask for help. When attempting to help him, he then yells “No I want to do it myself, but I can’t do it, but don’t help me, but I can’t do it.” So when he finally lets me, it seems someone has applied glue to his middle finger and ring finger because they will continually go into the same glove finger. And when they are finally separated, I lose the pinky. I know it’s in there but for some reason it’s gone. I do finally find the pinky but only after he makes a fist pulling the other 3 fingers out of their individual finger holes that we just spent 10 minutes doing. Thank you for making the thumb so easy. It’s the only reason I keep going because it gives hope that the other 4 will go in eventually. So after all fingers are in their respective holes, there are still 2 inches of fingerless glove fabric at the end of each glove finger so we do the awkward “stretch the kids arm out straight, tell him to stretch out his fingers, brace him against a wall, and shove the glove as hard as you can down onto his hand.” It is at this point he decides to loose all the joints in fingers so it’s like putting a glove onto 5 wet noodles. Eventually all fingers are in the correct finger holes and in their proper position and its time to do the other hand. He then informs me that he must go to the bathroom. So we took the glove off, he went potty and when he returned, I put him in mittens.
Lord, thank you for creating winter and snow and children and even winter gloves. But most of all, thank you for the easiest solution to putting winter gloves on kids: mom.
Looking forward to spring,
The Joyful and Tired Dad
Thursday, December 9, 2010
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
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
Sunday, December 5, 2010
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
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
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
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.
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.
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