We've gone through quite a few favorite games since Owen turned into a toddler and now a young man. Peek-a-boo, where's Owen, and the game of just run screaming as loud as you can through wherever you are. He's really gotten into hide and seek lately. Not quite sure how the rules are supposed to work, but he grasps the overall concept, and if you can fall over giggling at the end, what the hey?
Obviously, you have to have a hider and a finder. Usually, Owen is the finder and one or both of us is the hider. He closes his eyes tight and puts his hands up to his face, counting to 5. Upon counting to 5, the fifth number being reached, he announces "Ready or not, here I come," as every good finder should. Inside the house, we hide behind the bathroom door, a floor length curtain, behind the couch, or in the alcove by the pantry. Occasionally, you can slip into the office or on to the basement steps. He wanders around the house looking for you, but he really just wants to be surprised. Therefore, the best hiding spots are the ones where you can be passed over, then jump out and yell "BOOOOOO!" right behind him. He'll jump, pee a little, and be reduced to fits of laughter as he tackles you.
If you find a REALLY good hiding spot, he'll give up and go play with his toys so you have to be somewhat selective. We were playing in the backyard once and he counted. Daddy hid behind one of the many large poplar trees back there and Owen never came looking for me in that area. He spent a good 2 minutes looking for me in the wrong places as I peeked out from behind the tree. He finally gave up, and spent another 5 minutes wandering around in the backyard, picking up sticks, looking at bugs, and other random toddler activities. Finally, I decided to sneak up on him and waited for his back to be turned. I crept up behind him and got to about 10 feet away when he happened to turn around so I rushed him and threw him skyward while making some sort of monster noise I came up with.
It scared the crap out of him, he'd obviously completely forgotten I was out there with him. But it took about 1.3 seconds to register it was his Daddy and I don't think he could breathe he was laughing so hard. After settling down, he said, "You hide again!"
On the rare occasion when he wants to be the hider, this is where we have failures in the hide and seek dynamic. His idea of hiding is getting in a corner, or putting his hands on the fridge, in plain sight. When you get to 5 and announce ready or not, you can't find him until he's ready to be found. Walk right past him, loudly wondering where he is. If you see him, he'll scream, "NO! I'm HIIIIIIIIDING!!!!!" When he's ready to be found, he will come running out at you yelling, "BOOOO!!!!!" so you have to act properly scared and often get tackled. Maybe Daddy has too much fun with hide and seek by teaching the scare/tackle version.
He's finally starting to grasp better hiding technique and is usually found peeking out from behind a tree, a curtain, or behind the couch. One of these days, I'll have to get him to hide really well. Then I can give up and maybe have some peace and quiet. Except I'd probably forget and he'd scare me to the point of peeing myself and giggling.
CK
Saturday, July 30, 2011
Thursday, July 28, 2011
The Mall Playground
We just returned from an hour or so at the little playground in the local mall. It's just too hot to go out after we almost melted this morning, so some A/C in a contained area where Owen could get some energy out was perfect. This particular playground is really more of a small play area packed with at least 2 dozen kids. No traditional playground equipment, just a bunch of hard foam animals in various poses for kids to climb on, slide down, jump from, and fall off. Foamed carpeting keeps the falls from hurting too much. Our lil' man always has a blast going crazy in there and there's enough white noise and other stuff going on that the baby is happy too.
My biggest complaint though is that the play area is really for kids about 6 and younger. Bigger kids are always running around on it, and even that's not a big deal MOST of the time. It's the one kid who is entirely too old (like 12) and has no awareness of his surroundings. Last time we were at the playground, this particular kid was about 10 or 11 or so, and was constantly doing dumb stuff like waiting for little kids to run by him and jump over their heads or trying to make ever farther jumps from the cat's head to the sombrero. When he slipped and fell during one landing, he whacked his head on a polar bear ass. He wasn't hurt, so I was free to laugh by pointing and doing the Nelson "Ha-ha!" Sure, if he broke an arm or split his head open, I'd be over there trying to help out with First Aid. But it is somewhat satisfying to see a thumping.
Today was an entirely different experience. There was a boy, maybe 7 or 8, with his mom following him around to pose him on the different animals for, I guess, "glamour shots". She was shooing other kids out of photos, having him put on designer sunglasses, and flash what appeared to be gang signs.
This was a little strange, considering there were probably 30 kids in a relatively small area, but the choice of outfits was what took it to another level of high comedy. The kid was in a stained t-shirt (like every kid on the planet) and athletic shorts. No underwear. We ALL know this because his athletic shorts was lacking in the ability to cover his hot cross buns more than halfway. It's one thing for a pair of shorts to fall down a bit while playing, but when mom is having you sit on a skunk for 3 minutes doing various poses while your vertical smile is saying hello...
Maybe I'm officially an old man shaking my fist in the yard and yelling, "Pull up your pants!" As you can tell from my last blog, I will never understand why the Lady Gaga's, Justin Bieber's, and whatever teeny-bop group comes next have success, but I'm really hoping the 8 year old public display of assfection will never be hip.
CK
My biggest complaint though is that the play area is really for kids about 6 and younger. Bigger kids are always running around on it, and even that's not a big deal MOST of the time. It's the one kid who is entirely too old (like 12) and has no awareness of his surroundings. Last time we were at the playground, this particular kid was about 10 or 11 or so, and was constantly doing dumb stuff like waiting for little kids to run by him and jump over their heads or trying to make ever farther jumps from the cat's head to the sombrero. When he slipped and fell during one landing, he whacked his head on a polar bear ass. He wasn't hurt, so I was free to laugh by pointing and doing the Nelson "Ha-ha!" Sure, if he broke an arm or split his head open, I'd be over there trying to help out with First Aid. But it is somewhat satisfying to see a thumping.
Today was an entirely different experience. There was a boy, maybe 7 or 8, with his mom following him around to pose him on the different animals for, I guess, "glamour shots". She was shooing other kids out of photos, having him put on designer sunglasses, and flash what appeared to be gang signs.
This was a little strange, considering there were probably 30 kids in a relatively small area, but the choice of outfits was what took it to another level of high comedy. The kid was in a stained t-shirt (like every kid on the planet) and athletic shorts. No underwear. We ALL know this because his athletic shorts was lacking in the ability to cover his hot cross buns more than halfway. It's one thing for a pair of shorts to fall down a bit while playing, but when mom is having you sit on a skunk for 3 minutes doing various poses while your vertical smile is saying hello...
Maybe I'm officially an old man shaking my fist in the yard and yelling, "Pull up your pants!" As you can tell from my last blog, I will never understand why the Lady Gaga's, Justin Bieber's, and whatever teeny-bop group comes next have success, but I'm really hoping the 8 year old public display of assfection will never be hip.
CK
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
I Don't Like That Music
As Owen has become more verbose, his likes and dislikes are becoming less obvious. By less obvious, I mean he used to give us an emphatic foot stomp and "NOOOOO!" for things he didn't like. Stuff he likes gets an emphatic foot stomp and "NOOOOO!" when you take the item away or stop the fun activity. Now, he'll actually just tell us if he doesn't like something most of the time.
This is definitely the case with music. As soon as we get in the car, he wants the music turned up and either listens along happily or announces "I don't like that music." His taste is pretty limited so far, BIG fan of Veggie Tales songs and James Brown's "I Got You (I Feel Good)." Everything else is "I don't like that music," stated over and over again until you skip to the next song for another "I don't like that music," or you ignore him. He even hates "Real Gone" by Sheryl Crow, the song they used for the opening credits of the movie Cars. If you were not aware, Cars is the greatest movie in the history of movies to all who are 3 feet tall and male.
I kind of ignored all this, until I started playing my 80s playlist off iTunes one afternoon. Fantastic stuff, some A-Ha, Duran Duran, Men at Work, Rick Springfield. And of course, Europe's "The Final Countdown." If you made a request that "The Final Countdown" be played at your funeral, I will rock out to it with air guitar. Don't blame me, you requested the song, you would have wanted it that way. But Owen hates the '80s. He wanted them off the speakers as soon as possible and almost threw a tantrum over it.
So I tried the Beatles. Magical Mystery Tour, Abbey Road, The White Album, A Hard Day's Night (just in case he prefers the early sober Beatles over the...medicated ones). No, no, no, and no. Ugh, this is not my kid.
Maybe he's got some weird musical tastes so I decided to bust out some of my different loves. A little Irish/Celtic music because who doesn't like a happy jig or a drinking song with innuendo? Apparently Owen AND his mother don't like jigs and/or bawdy drinking songs. Some Classic Rock, like the Stones, Zeppelin, ZZ Top. "I don't like that music." He doesn't like the Oldies, Classical, Jazz, Funk, or Crooners. I know he's not some Emo kid, so Alternative stuff like R.E.M. and Dave Matthews is right out.
If you're thinking The Wiggles, a Rebecca Black, or a Justin Bieber type since he is, technically, a kid, stop it. Just stop it. I consider it bad parenting at best and child abuse at worst to let Bieber into my home and I will cut him out of the will if he ever pushes play on an autotuned song.
For now, I think I'm stuck listening to Veggie Tales and James Brown on a loop. The really cool thing about hearing "I Feel Good" all the time is that he's started to sing along with it. But not the whole song, only one section with the horn licks, "SO GOOD! Buh buh buh bum, BUUUUUUUMMMMMMM!!!!!!!" It's pretty entertaining to listen to him sing along with the Godfather of Soul and I kind of think he's got the creative genius of an Andy Kaufman by just picking one part of the song to sing. We'll have to work on some of JB's other hits, like "Get Up Offa That Thing," "Papa's Got A Brand New Bag," and "Sex Machine." His Mom's going to love that last one.
CK
This is definitely the case with music. As soon as we get in the car, he wants the music turned up and either listens along happily or announces "I don't like that music." His taste is pretty limited so far, BIG fan of Veggie Tales songs and James Brown's "I Got You (I Feel Good)." Everything else is "I don't like that music," stated over and over again until you skip to the next song for another "I don't like that music," or you ignore him. He even hates "Real Gone" by Sheryl Crow, the song they used for the opening credits of the movie Cars. If you were not aware, Cars is the greatest movie in the history of movies to all who are 3 feet tall and male.
I kind of ignored all this, until I started playing my 80s playlist off iTunes one afternoon. Fantastic stuff, some A-Ha, Duran Duran, Men at Work, Rick Springfield. And of course, Europe's "The Final Countdown." If you made a request that "The Final Countdown" be played at your funeral, I will rock out to it with air guitar. Don't blame me, you requested the song, you would have wanted it that way. But Owen hates the '80s. He wanted them off the speakers as soon as possible and almost threw a tantrum over it.
So I tried the Beatles. Magical Mystery Tour, Abbey Road, The White Album, A Hard Day's Night (just in case he prefers the early sober Beatles over the...medicated ones). No, no, no, and no. Ugh, this is not my kid.
Maybe he's got some weird musical tastes so I decided to bust out some of my different loves. A little Irish/Celtic music because who doesn't like a happy jig or a drinking song with innuendo? Apparently Owen AND his mother don't like jigs and/or bawdy drinking songs. Some Classic Rock, like the Stones, Zeppelin, ZZ Top. "I don't like that music." He doesn't like the Oldies, Classical, Jazz, Funk, or Crooners. I know he's not some Emo kid, so Alternative stuff like R.E.M. and Dave Matthews is right out.
If you're thinking The Wiggles, a Rebecca Black, or a Justin Bieber type since he is, technically, a kid, stop it. Just stop it. I consider it bad parenting at best and child abuse at worst to let Bieber into my home and I will cut him out of the will if he ever pushes play on an autotuned song.
For now, I think I'm stuck listening to Veggie Tales and James Brown on a loop. The really cool thing about hearing "I Feel Good" all the time is that he's started to sing along with it. But not the whole song, only one section with the horn licks, "SO GOOD! Buh buh buh bum, BUUUUUUUMMMMMMM!!!!!!!" It's pretty entertaining to listen to him sing along with the Godfather of Soul and I kind of think he's got the creative genius of an Andy Kaufman by just picking one part of the song to sing. We'll have to work on some of JB's other hits, like "Get Up Offa That Thing," "Papa's Got A Brand New Bag," and "Sex Machine." His Mom's going to love that last one.
CK
Thursday, July 21, 2011
Don't Know What to Call This One
Owen and the wife are both slowed down a bit by colds this week. Owen seems to be over his, but the wife is in the depths at the moment. I was rocking Lily in our room and she brought little man upstairs for bedtime this evening. The wife sat down on the bed and looked at me with puffy red eyes, a little snot running down her face, and sarcastically wheezed, "I feel sexy."
Except she said it a little too loudly, so Owen cried out with glee, "I feel sexy TOO!" I don't why I'M in trouble now since I didn't say it, but apparently my laughing uncontrollably reinforces bad behavior and/or language we want him to avoid. It's one of those moments that I will definitely recall forever and probably recount decades from now.
I was reminded how fast this time of their lives will go and suddenly, I'm looking at a teenager, high school grad, and beyond. This morning a lot of email traffic started flying about a young man I knew vaguely through my weekend hobby. He took his own life and it's been with me all day. I only met him once and didn't know him very well. I don't know his parents but my heart goes out to them. I can't imagine what they're going through and never, never want to. Like the old quote says, 'Parents should never have to bury their children.' I hope that his parents can eventually find peace.
Since becoming parents 2 and a half years ago, both the wife and I have awoken on many mornings to explain the vivid dreams of one or both our kids falling down stairs, getting lost, etc. Thankfully, the one time Owen did fall down the stairs, he emerged with only a small bruise. Two yellow jacket stings that barely fazed him last week, sprained ankle that isn't slowing him down this week, and two eternally scraped up knees. I just hope that's the worst stuff they ever have to deal with.
Sure, becoming a SAHD has put a strain on the family through finances and being in close proximity all the time but I'm so glad to be with them everyday. The late night screaming fests, the stomping of the foot and attitude laced "NO!", and blatant ignoring of my voice when he's playing with the electrical outlet. We recall Owen being a tougher baby to handle than Lily so far, but I remember those first smiles, the chuckles he made way more than the late nights.
Lily has started smiling, but she's a very serious baby. I often will get one small smile a day, if I'm lucky. She just started laughing in the last couple of days and I will put up with any amount of screaming to get the half second smile or giggle. There will be times that I'll want to Homer Simpson choke the boy or take away Lily's...uhm...pony? But I will not stop loving the hell out of them no matter what.
CK
Except she said it a little too loudly, so Owen cried out with glee, "I feel sexy TOO!" I don't why I'M in trouble now since I didn't say it, but apparently my laughing uncontrollably reinforces bad behavior and/or language we want him to avoid. It's one of those moments that I will definitely recall forever and probably recount decades from now.
I was reminded how fast this time of their lives will go and suddenly, I'm looking at a teenager, high school grad, and beyond. This morning a lot of email traffic started flying about a young man I knew vaguely through my weekend hobby. He took his own life and it's been with me all day. I only met him once and didn't know him very well. I don't know his parents but my heart goes out to them. I can't imagine what they're going through and never, never want to. Like the old quote says, 'Parents should never have to bury their children.' I hope that his parents can eventually find peace.
Since becoming parents 2 and a half years ago, both the wife and I have awoken on many mornings to explain the vivid dreams of one or both our kids falling down stairs, getting lost, etc. Thankfully, the one time Owen did fall down the stairs, he emerged with only a small bruise. Two yellow jacket stings that barely fazed him last week, sprained ankle that isn't slowing him down this week, and two eternally scraped up knees. I just hope that's the worst stuff they ever have to deal with.
Sure, becoming a SAHD has put a strain on the family through finances and being in close proximity all the time but I'm so glad to be with them everyday. The late night screaming fests, the stomping of the foot and attitude laced "NO!", and blatant ignoring of my voice when he's playing with the electrical outlet. We recall Owen being a tougher baby to handle than Lily so far, but I remember those first smiles, the chuckles he made way more than the late nights.
Lily has started smiling, but she's a very serious baby. I often will get one small smile a day, if I'm lucky. She just started laughing in the last couple of days and I will put up with any amount of screaming to get the half second smile or giggle. There will be times that I'll want to Homer Simpson choke the boy or take away Lily's...uhm...pony? But I will not stop loving the hell out of them no matter what.
CK
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
Mental Health Day
I had some work stuff to do this morning, so I headed into the office, organized some files, and headed to a job site. It was a really nice break, I got to have adult discussion with big acronyms and jargon, found out that the scope of work we came up with was a good one, and the client seems to be pretty happy. I got home about 1:45 and walked into a quiet home.
Quiet because everyone was asleep. The wife wasn't, but she was mostly catatonic from a rough night. The boy was actually napping too, a rare occurrence these days. He's come down with a bit of a cold in the last 24 hours, so the wife decided to just have a nice quiet day watching tv and letting him rest. I really think it was a respite for Lily as well. She reportedly spent most of the morning lounging around and napping while Owen generally played with a few toys quietly while staring at yet another episode of "The Cat in the Hat Knows a Lot About That". The wife said it was recommended as an educational program, so it was a productive morning. Thankfully, it's relatively entertaining and well done, especially the 6th time you've been through the episodes.
Once I was back in SAHD mode, the wife went to work by replacing girl baby with her laptop. Lily promptly fell asleep on me in the baby carrier and was out for a good three hours. Once the boy awoke, the wife went and got him, where we spent more time watching "Cat." Daddy got in a nap, Owen rested, and everyone generally had a nice day off. I think we'll be back to normal tomorrow as Owen is already showing signs of his healthy attitude. After dinner, he dumped his big basket o' toys out onto the floor and thought about a tantrum or two.
It was nice to have an 'off' day, we'll pretend this one never happened when it comes to averaging out how much tv a kid watches and it's damaging effects on their developing brain. He did learn the phrase "It's a pleasure to meet you," today so I'll chalk it up to a win overall.
CK
Quiet because everyone was asleep. The wife wasn't, but she was mostly catatonic from a rough night. The boy was actually napping too, a rare occurrence these days. He's come down with a bit of a cold in the last 24 hours, so the wife decided to just have a nice quiet day watching tv and letting him rest. I really think it was a respite for Lily as well. She reportedly spent most of the morning lounging around and napping while Owen generally played with a few toys quietly while staring at yet another episode of "The Cat in the Hat Knows a Lot About That". The wife said it was recommended as an educational program, so it was a productive morning. Thankfully, it's relatively entertaining and well done, especially the 6th time you've been through the episodes.
Once I was back in SAHD mode, the wife went to work by replacing girl baby with her laptop. Lily promptly fell asleep on me in the baby carrier and was out for a good three hours. Once the boy awoke, the wife went and got him, where we spent more time watching "Cat." Daddy got in a nap, Owen rested, and everyone generally had a nice day off. I think we'll be back to normal tomorrow as Owen is already showing signs of his healthy attitude. After dinner, he dumped his big basket o' toys out onto the floor and thought about a tantrum or two.
It was nice to have an 'off' day, we'll pretend this one never happened when it comes to averaging out how much tv a kid watches and it's damaging effects on their developing brain. He did learn the phrase "It's a pleasure to meet you," today so I'll chalk it up to a win overall.
CK
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
Brilliant Idea
As I drove to Chick-fil-A this afternoon for a milkshake and playground time out of the heat and humidity, I realized there is a great business market for me. Both kids struggled with nap time. There were no afternoon naps, so both passed out once strapped into their seats and subjected to the gentle vibrations of the car, A/C, and the soothing sounds of Veggie Tales.
This is typically the case. Anytime we drive anywhere, Lily sleeps the whole time and Owen will pass out if he's tired. I'm introducing my new Snooze Mobile. We get a 15 passenger van, trick it out with a bunch of seats with the LATCH system, top of the line car seats and bases. Paint the inside in soothing, sleepy-time colors. Black out the windows so minimal sunlight gets in. State of the art sound system to crank the lullabies at the perfect volume.
Your kid screaming at the top of his lungs because he didn't get a nap? Got chores you can't get finished because the sparkle in your eye is obnoxious? Just want to pass out face down on your own couch with a glass of red wine spilled on the rug? Call us, we'll come get the little stinke...blessing and drive them around for as long as you like. It's like drop in day care places, except they snore the whole time.
When they wake up, we bring them back to your house and dump them in the yard for some cash money. I can't think of any downsides. Except traffic, red lights, bumps, need of a snack, thirst, or my penchant for screaming obscenities at driver's of lesser quality than myself. Tough to get repeat business the first time a little one yells, "Move your #&%!" I may have to tweak it a little to perfect it, but I'm on to a winner!
CK
This is typically the case. Anytime we drive anywhere, Lily sleeps the whole time and Owen will pass out if he's tired. I'm introducing my new Snooze Mobile. We get a 15 passenger van, trick it out with a bunch of seats with the LATCH system, top of the line car seats and bases. Paint the inside in soothing, sleepy-time colors. Black out the windows so minimal sunlight gets in. State of the art sound system to crank the lullabies at the perfect volume.
Your kid screaming at the top of his lungs because he didn't get a nap? Got chores you can't get finished because the sparkle in your eye is obnoxious? Just want to pass out face down on your own couch with a glass of red wine spilled on the rug? Call us, we'll come get the little stinke...blessing and drive them around for as long as you like. It's like drop in day care places, except they snore the whole time.
When they wake up, we bring them back to your house and dump them in the yard for some cash money. I can't think of any downsides. Except traffic, red lights, bumps, need of a snack, thirst, or my penchant for screaming obscenities at driver's of lesser quality than myself. Tough to get repeat business the first time a little one yells, "Move your #&%!" I may have to tweak it a little to perfect it, but I'm on to a winner!
CK
Monday, July 11, 2011
Today is a great day
Full disclosure, poop jokes contained herein.
The sun is shining brighter. Birds are whistling at my window sill. Beer is colder and crisper (I'm not really drinking right now since it's 9 AM, but I'll bet it would be). I'm pretty sure I'm gonna see a rainbow when I look outside.
Owen pooped in the potty by himself. Just walked in there, plopped himself down on the toilet, and plopped himself down. He came in yelling all about his accomplishment. Since he often tells us proudly that he has accomplished blowing up his underpants, excuse us for being a little jaded and expecting to find it on the $4,000 Persian Rug.
But, it was in the potty. The victory was sweet, exactly what I think it would be like to win a Super Bowl, Wimbledon, the Indy 500, and Kentucky Derby in a single glorious moment. Add the unintentional comedy of his joy when telling his Mommy, "It splashed!" and it definitely seems like we're getting really close to having this figured out.
Of course, this could just be a flash in the...wait for it...bowl. Only time will tell if we have turned a corner, but a boy can dream.
CK
The sun is shining brighter. Birds are whistling at my window sill. Beer is colder and crisper (I'm not really drinking right now since it's 9 AM, but I'll bet it would be). I'm pretty sure I'm gonna see a rainbow when I look outside.
Owen pooped in the potty by himself. Just walked in there, plopped himself down on the toilet, and plopped himself down. He came in yelling all about his accomplishment. Since he often tells us proudly that he has accomplished blowing up his underpants, excuse us for being a little jaded and expecting to find it on the $4,000 Persian Rug.
But, it was in the potty. The victory was sweet, exactly what I think it would be like to win a Super Bowl, Wimbledon, the Indy 500, and Kentucky Derby in a single glorious moment. Add the unintentional comedy of his joy when telling his Mommy, "It splashed!" and it definitely seems like we're getting really close to having this figured out.
Of course, this could just be a flash in the...wait for it...bowl. Only time will tell if we have turned a corner, but a boy can dream.
CK
Red vs. Blue
So we had our first political argument with Owen last night. It was just before dinner and I offered him some milk. Apparently, he is a Republican, as he respectfully requested red milk through his normal foot stomp and , "NO! I want RED milk!". All we had was blue milk. Not actual milk color, but the cap on top of the white milk container with white milk inside.
Since we only had blue-capped milk, I proposed a wonderful compromise of blue milk and reached across the great divide by pouring him a nice cold sippie-cup and handing it over. All I requested was a "Thank you." And a 43 million dollar pork project for my basement, but we'll hammer that out later.
The Great Communicator received this gift with Kim Jong Il level diplomacy by slapping it out of my hand and launching into a massive tirade about the discontented proletariat, complete with screaming, tears, foot-stomping, shoving of plates of dinner, and attempted throwing of the disgusting blue milk filled sippie-cup. I think we were about 2 minutes from a military parade complete with tanks and ballistic missiles to demonstrate a steadfast commitment to red milk.
Thankfully, cooler heads prevailed and bipartisanship ruled the day as the wife and I generally ignored the threats and both sides came to an agreement. The boy would settle for blue milk, accompanied with chicken, rice, and carrots, but would not be forced to eat the asparagus and corn. In the future we will hide the colored caps of all milk and juice products so as not to anger the sensibilities of the lil' banana republic dictator. Hooray Democracy!
CK
Since we only had blue-capped milk, I proposed a wonderful compromise of blue milk and reached across the great divide by pouring him a nice cold sippie-cup and handing it over. All I requested was a "Thank you." And a 43 million dollar pork project for my basement, but we'll hammer that out later.
The Great Communicator received this gift with Kim Jong Il level diplomacy by slapping it out of my hand and launching into a massive tirade about the discontented proletariat, complete with screaming, tears, foot-stomping, shoving of plates of dinner, and attempted throwing of the disgusting blue milk filled sippie-cup. I think we were about 2 minutes from a military parade complete with tanks and ballistic missiles to demonstrate a steadfast commitment to red milk.
Thankfully, cooler heads prevailed and bipartisanship ruled the day as the wife and I generally ignored the threats and both sides came to an agreement. The boy would settle for blue milk, accompanied with chicken, rice, and carrots, but would not be forced to eat the asparagus and corn. In the future we will hide the colored caps of all milk and juice products so as not to anger the sensibilities of the lil' banana republic dictator. Hooray Democracy!
CK
Thursday, July 7, 2011
Hypothetical Scenario 1
If I was going to make banana pudding for an afternoon snack and a two and a half year old (we'll call him...Bowen) wants a banana. I need the bananas for the pudding, but I am feeling benevolent and give him a chunk from one of them. "Bowen" is not happy with this, as he wants his own, whole banana, and pitches a screaming fit of epic proportions. The chunk of banana he received is thrown on the floor multiple times and is soon covered in dirt and hair.
My question, if such a hypothetical situation were to occur, is: "Am I a terrible father if I find the tantrum funny?"
On a side note, "Bowen" spent so much time telling me he wanted a whole banana and ignoring the piece he got that the dogs ended up enjoying his chunk o' banana and he got none. Didn't want any of the banana pudding when it was snack time.
CK
My question, if such a hypothetical situation were to occur, is: "Am I a terrible father if I find the tantrum funny?"
On a side note, "Bowen" spent so much time telling me he wanted a whole banana and ignoring the piece he got that the dogs ended up enjoying his chunk o' banana and he got none. Didn't want any of the banana pudding when it was snack time.
CK
Monday, July 4, 2011
72 hours of freedom
The last three days have been a mixture of blood, sweat, and a few tears. The wife took both kids (there are only two of them, right?) to her parent's place for the long weekend. I was both excited and a little bummed. Excited because it gives me a taste of that bachelor freedom from years ago. Bummed because I have a ton of fun with them.
I had big plans to get some work done around the house. The iPod was charged and loaded, all the heavy machinery was ready to go, and I did get a ton of stuff finished over the course of the weekend. Of course, I also spent a lot of time trying to come up with toddler friendly words to replace the old sailor friendly language I usually use when I cut my finger, slam a thumb, or drop the heavy machinery on my foot. I was really trying to practice because Owen is starting to want to help with things. Pretty sure "Son of a..." isn't the best thing to enthusiastically yell in front of someone who likes repeating terms ad nauseum that have been enthusiastically yelled. I'm currently fond of "Bust my buffers!" "Cinders and ashes!" and "Pit stop!" Okay, I stole them from Thomas the Tank Engine and the movie Cars, what do you want from me?
Not only did I catch up on projects around the home, I managed to squeeze some time with my parents on their boat. I was astonished to discover that taking a toddler on the boat means I'm exhausted at the end of the day. Going on the boat without the toddler results in a day on the lake that ends with me feeling rested. Even took a short nap out there. A NAP!
I did miss the family and couldn't wait to see them when they came home this afternoon. The car pulled up in the driveway, the door opened, and I was greeted by the exhausted mother of my children, a screaming little boy, and a girl baby that would be screaming within 60 seconds. Our house finally felt like a home again. All that peace and quiet just wasn't right, turns out I kind of missed the chaos. Not much, but I did miss it. The clock currently shows 9:30 on the Fourth of July with fireworks going off all over the neighborhood. We'd both rather be in bed asleep right now. Life is back to normal.
Back to the salt mines tomorrow as a SAHD. Just need to remember to use my new toddler friendly epithets as I gently parent them through life.
CK
I had big plans to get some work done around the house. The iPod was charged and loaded, all the heavy machinery was ready to go, and I did get a ton of stuff finished over the course of the weekend. Of course, I also spent a lot of time trying to come up with toddler friendly words to replace the old sailor friendly language I usually use when I cut my finger, slam a thumb, or drop the heavy machinery on my foot. I was really trying to practice because Owen is starting to want to help with things. Pretty sure "Son of a..." isn't the best thing to enthusiastically yell in front of someone who likes repeating terms ad nauseum that have been enthusiastically yelled. I'm currently fond of "Bust my buffers!" "Cinders and ashes!" and "Pit stop!" Okay, I stole them from Thomas the Tank Engine and the movie Cars, what do you want from me?
Not only did I catch up on projects around the home, I managed to squeeze some time with my parents on their boat. I was astonished to discover that taking a toddler on the boat means I'm exhausted at the end of the day. Going on the boat without the toddler results in a day on the lake that ends with me feeling rested. Even took a short nap out there. A NAP!
I did miss the family and couldn't wait to see them when they came home this afternoon. The car pulled up in the driveway, the door opened, and I was greeted by the exhausted mother of my children, a screaming little boy, and a girl baby that would be screaming within 60 seconds. Our house finally felt like a home again. All that peace and quiet just wasn't right, turns out I kind of missed the chaos. Not much, but I did miss it. The clock currently shows 9:30 on the Fourth of July with fireworks going off all over the neighborhood. We'd both rather be in bed asleep right now. Life is back to normal.
Back to the salt mines tomorrow as a SAHD. Just need to remember to use my new toddler friendly epithets as I gently parent them through life.
CK
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