No, not like a mid-life crisis or anything like that.. But the whole dynamic of my home just changed, and it's taking me some time to get used to it. For those of you who might be first time readers, or those of you who haven't followed me from the start I'll give you some background. I'm a stay at home dad. I was injured on the job and have been off since while things are getting settled legally and while I've gone through treatments, shots, etc... I have been off since December of 2012 and have been blogging about my time home with my boys. I have 4 boys, 2 of which have been with me since that day in 2012, and another was born in 2013...
Well, all that changed this past Monday. The twins started pre-school. They go full time Monday through Thursday from 8:30am to 3:30pm. So everything has changed. I not only get my oldest off and on the bus, but I have to get the twins around and to school on time as well. That requires waking the baby earlier than he's used to and toting him around. Thank goodness he's such a good sport about it.
Well, having been with the twins about half their lives I knew this day would come where they'd go off to school. I didn't foresee however me having such a hard time with it. But it became very real to me about 2 weeks ago when we went to visit their school and their teacher came to our home to visit them. I knew my little guys were close to taking that next step into the next phase of their lives. Sadly, I was not ready..
They were beyond excited which made it a little easier to see them off. But their first day rolled around this past Monday. They were bouncing off the walls and ready to go. Half of me told myself everything is going to be just fine, they're excited, you should be excited for them too. The other half wanted to "accidentally forget" to take them.. But I know that wouldn't be fair to them.. So they got dressed, got their shoes on, grabbed their backpacks, and were ready to go.. After dropping Alex off at his grandma's we were on our way.
We got there and got the code to sign them in and out on the computer, then walked down to the class room.. I was doing good, I was holding up and feeding off their excitement and enjoyed seeing how ready they were and how anxious they were to get to class. Parents were allowed to stick around for as long as they wanted and have breakfast with their kids, so I stuck around. I didn't eat anything but sat with them while they ate. They were too excited to eat all their breakfast and were soon off playing, leaving me at the table by myself. That's when it hit me. They were OK with leaving me. They were off in there own little world, playing with toys and other kids, and not once looking up or around to make sure I was there or was near. This should be a proud moment for me because they're so ready and so OK with being on their own that they aren't bothered by Mom or Dad leaving. But part of me wanted them to at least look up to make sure I was still around. I sat there for about 5 or so minutes just watching them play, marveling at how grown up they look, and being blown away at how fast time has flown since they were born. It feels like it was just yesterday that we got the news that we were having twins, then watching them come into this world, taking their first steps, and now they're starting school... Things will never be the same again. They will fall into the school schedule and routine that will take them through their next 13 years, they will lose a little of that innocence as they are around other kids and not at home full time. So I sat there thinking of all this and felt that lump in my throat and felt my eyes start to sting. I knew then, it was time to go but in the greater scheme of things, it was time to let go. I know that may come across as overly dramatic but it's true, and I've spent so much time with them, and invested so much time with them, that it feels like I'm letting that part of my life go and moving on to a new part of life. Which essentially I am...
So with all the dignity and grace a 36 year old man on the verge of tears can muster, I got up and walked over to where they were playing and got their attention. I told them that I was going to be taking off. Part of me was interested in seeing how Jonah responded because he doesn't like to be left alone or behind. So I brace myself to see Jonah lose it, even if it's just a little. Because if he loses it, I'm done and there will be no "saving it." But both boys look up at me and without missing a beat both say simultaneously "OK." OK? That's it? I'm not mad by the response, but taken aback.. They were really OK with me leaving. They were ready for this. They were going to be just fine. I wasn't ready for that fully. I honestly expected some resistance or trepidation. So, they both ran over to me, hugged me, gave me high fives, then ran back to what they were doing.. Not once looking back.. So, just to be sure I said "OK boys, I'm taking off." They respond with "Bye Dad."
With that, I start walking out and get about half way down the hall when that lump in my throat returns, and I can feel my eyes sting. I wipe my eyes JUST as their teacher walks out of the supply room..... Great... I'm sure she see's this all the time. But I'm not one who is usually quick to show emotion. So I feel like this giant weepy freak. I quickly try to regain composure and she immediately notices me doing so and says "it's ok dad, they're going to be fine." I just kinda smile and nod, I want to say "it's not them I'm worried about." But I just say "yeah, just tough to see them grow up." She agrees and says "we'll see you this afternoon." And I turn and walk out.
I get to my car and sit there for a few minutes. I never fully broke down. But it took me a minute to wipe my eyes and make sure I was going to not lose it.
So, here we are after week one of them being in school. They LOVE it. They are so excited every morning to get to go. I have to fight them to come home. Which in the big picture I would rather have than to fight them to go. I'm doing better with it all. And Alex and I are adjusting to life with a quiet house for a large portion of the day. He has napped better since they've started. I've started putting him down earlier around 12:30pm, and have to wake him at 3 pm to go get the boys. Today is the first day they've had off since they started and they're already asking when they can go back. But it's made me appreciate today more, we wrestled a little more than normal this morning, and things have been good today. So maybe this is going to be a blessing in disguise. It's freed me up during the day to be able to leave the house. I took Alex up to Jill's work to visit yesterday. So maybe this will be good for all involved.... But it's still hard to see them grow so quickly..
Anyway, I realize this isn't my normal entry that is laced with humor and sarcasm. But hey, life isn't always funny. Thanks for allowing me to put that aside for a minute and share a deeper moment for me. I promise to bring back the regular entries next time.
Until then next time...
Be Well
Friday, October 3, 2014
Friday, August 29, 2014
Life's Been Good To Me So Far.....
I think half the fun of writing in my blog is coming up with song titles that kind of go along with what my blog entry will be about. So this is fun because I get to use on of my favorite musicians Joe Walsh.
Anyway, It's been awhile since I've posted last and I apologize for that. Have you ever had those times in life where you just felt like you lost ALL motivation? Like you have NOTHING left to give to anyone or anything? That's how I've been feeling as of late. Like a zombie just stumbling through life. I've done my best not to whine about it to anyone in my life or on Facebook. Because honestly, what good does whining do? And who wants to sit and listen to me complain about absolutely nothing?
I've been up to a bit as of late. In August we took a day and went "camping" overnight. And by camping I mean staying at a hotel in Hart, Michigan. See, I don't camp.. I've tried tent camping and quickly found out that while I do love the outdoors, I'm not meant to sleep in it.. The one time we tried camping for a half week in a tent was a dumpster fire. It rained so hard one night that we had mini lakes all over the tent. It was cold, the air mattress kept losing air, and it poured all night long. The only person that slept like a baby that night was Caleb. And he was a baby at that time. He was a few months old at that point and didn't seem fazed at all by the temperature or rain. You see, with the exception of a few years every year since 1999 I have went with my wife and her family to what is called "Family Camp." It's a camp her church uses every August for a week in Pentwater, Michigan. The first year I went it was so hot that we left half way through the week. And that was after I'm pretty sure I had sun poisoning from getting sunburned so bad while swimming in Lake Michigan. If you don't supply your own tent or camper, you can stay in these old army canvas tents. The tents are on a platform and can sleep around 10 or maybe slightly more. What isn't in the brochure is the copious amounts of daddy long legs that come with these tents... And I'm not talking 1 or 2 throughout the week... I'm talking anywhere from a half dozen to a dozen in your tent at any given moment. And if it's chilly outside and you have a heater in your tent, that is apparently a HUGE green light throughout the spider community for them to invade your tent... So you can only imagine my thrill when it's time to go to bed. Usually it consists of brushing my teeth and taking benadryl to knock myself out. But that is only before I take a broom and do my best impression of Miguel Cabrera inside the tent. Swinging at anything that moves on the floor or walls or ceiling of that tent. I must look like a crazed person to anyone that walks by. But you haven't experienced the slumber of angels until you've had a daddy long legs spider walk across your face in the middle of the night.. Because that has happened... I've had them walk across my head, my face, arms... It's like walking into one of your nightmares, and then trying to sleep. I don't really ever sleep well there.
That being said, we went again this year. The last few years due to small children we've went for a day or two and stayed in a hotel. That to me is camping... We sleep, wake up, eat at the hotel, then spend the day at the camp. I made mention before how my kids have never peed on me or worse. Yeah, I've been thrown up on and I've even done the parental "catch it in your hands without thinking deal." But this was a first for me. Alex needed a clean up in aisle poo. So I take him to the van, put him on his changing pad, and get his diaper undone and off. I clean him up and he lets loose this long, arching, fountain of pee. It was majestic, and I'm pretty sure had it not been pee I would have saluted and waited for the national anthem to play. But, I just stood there dumbfounded as he drenches me and himself in this Bellagio-esque fountain of pee. All down the from of my legs, my shoes, socks... soaked... He drenched his sock, the changing pad, and the floor of the van. Well done sir, well done.. I know this seems like a small deal to some of you who have been peed on, poo'd on, and had every conceivable bottle fluid on you at some point or another by your children. But this was my first and it was a whirlwind of emotions.. At first, I was like, "huh, so this is what it's like.." Followed by a little anger and asking the baby why he'd do that to me.. Like he's gonna answer me.. He was content to splash in his pee on the floor like a monkey you'd see do the same at a zoo.. So after anger came paralysis.. I will allow you 15 seconds of laugh time....................................................................... OK.. Yes, paralysis. Not having dealt with this before and being suddenly pee covered you don't know exactly how to react. Kind of like the tough guy who is a 455th degree black belt in 45 different forms of Kung Fu, then on the street when a lady is being mugged he freezes and watches it all go down, without lifting a finger.. That was me.. Sure, I'd laughed at Jill before as she has been peed on, poo'd on, etc... But, then it happens to me and I turn into the Tin Man from Wizard of Oz.. I just freeze... I'm standing there pee running into my socks, him splashing around like a deranged seal, and all I can do is yell for Jill. I yell what has happened and she responds with "what do you want me to do about it? Clean him up." Well played.. So I clean him up, change him, change me, wipe out the fan and put his changing pad on the top of the van to dry. I'm thankful there will be no more children, because I don't want to go through that again.
My laptop died on me as well recently. My hard drive decided life wasn't worth living and died. With it, it took about 50 some pieces of writing that was going to go toward this book idea I have. I've had people offer such helpful pieces of advice and comments as "you didn't back up your work?" "you didn't save it on a drive or anything?" No, no I didn't.. Had I have, I wouldn't be upset about it would I? And it's not like you plan for a crash of your hard drive... But alas, I guess I have no one to blame but myself for not doing that. So I now get to go back and try to find all this lost work as some of it is on Facebook. Some I can recreate from memory. But lesson learned. Everything is going on my flash drive from now on.
Jill ran her first 5 k recently so that is pretty awesome. I cheered her on by staying home with the baby and drinking coffee. But that is a huge accomplishment for her and for that I'm proud. It's not something I could ever do. She plans on doing it again next year and Caleb is planning on doing it with her. I'll be at the finish line with a Whopper in my hand and ketchup stains all over me cheering her on...
Caleb is getting ready to start his last year in elementary school... I can't begin to tell you how old this makes me feel... Next year he will be in a new school, junior high, and this makes my head hurt a little.. To add to this the twins are starting full day, Monday through Thursday pre-school. I'm actually struggling with this a little bit.. I've been home with them now for a good amount of time and it will be hard at first not having them home all day with me. It'll be just me and Alex.. It will be quiet... I'll have a little more maneuverability to go places as I'll just be lugging one kid with me as opposed to three. So there are pluses.
That really catches you up on what's been going on with me here the last few months. Not much of anything. Life has been good. I will do my best to update this more. I just get into a funk and don't try. I am going to get started on book pitches by the middle of September!
Until Next Time...
Be Well
Anyway, It's been awhile since I've posted last and I apologize for that. Have you ever had those times in life where you just felt like you lost ALL motivation? Like you have NOTHING left to give to anyone or anything? That's how I've been feeling as of late. Like a zombie just stumbling through life. I've done my best not to whine about it to anyone in my life or on Facebook. Because honestly, what good does whining do? And who wants to sit and listen to me complain about absolutely nothing?
I've been up to a bit as of late. In August we took a day and went "camping" overnight. And by camping I mean staying at a hotel in Hart, Michigan. See, I don't camp.. I've tried tent camping and quickly found out that while I do love the outdoors, I'm not meant to sleep in it.. The one time we tried camping for a half week in a tent was a dumpster fire. It rained so hard one night that we had mini lakes all over the tent. It was cold, the air mattress kept losing air, and it poured all night long. The only person that slept like a baby that night was Caleb. And he was a baby at that time. He was a few months old at that point and didn't seem fazed at all by the temperature or rain. You see, with the exception of a few years every year since 1999 I have went with my wife and her family to what is called "Family Camp." It's a camp her church uses every August for a week in Pentwater, Michigan. The first year I went it was so hot that we left half way through the week. And that was after I'm pretty sure I had sun poisoning from getting sunburned so bad while swimming in Lake Michigan. If you don't supply your own tent or camper, you can stay in these old army canvas tents. The tents are on a platform and can sleep around 10 or maybe slightly more. What isn't in the brochure is the copious amounts of daddy long legs that come with these tents... And I'm not talking 1 or 2 throughout the week... I'm talking anywhere from a half dozen to a dozen in your tent at any given moment. And if it's chilly outside and you have a heater in your tent, that is apparently a HUGE green light throughout the spider community for them to invade your tent... So you can only imagine my thrill when it's time to go to bed. Usually it consists of brushing my teeth and taking benadryl to knock myself out. But that is only before I take a broom and do my best impression of Miguel Cabrera inside the tent. Swinging at anything that moves on the floor or walls or ceiling of that tent. I must look like a crazed person to anyone that walks by. But you haven't experienced the slumber of angels until you've had a daddy long legs spider walk across your face in the middle of the night.. Because that has happened... I've had them walk across my head, my face, arms... It's like walking into one of your nightmares, and then trying to sleep. I don't really ever sleep well there.
That being said, we went again this year. The last few years due to small children we've went for a day or two and stayed in a hotel. That to me is camping... We sleep, wake up, eat at the hotel, then spend the day at the camp. I made mention before how my kids have never peed on me or worse. Yeah, I've been thrown up on and I've even done the parental "catch it in your hands without thinking deal." But this was a first for me. Alex needed a clean up in aisle poo. So I take him to the van, put him on his changing pad, and get his diaper undone and off. I clean him up and he lets loose this long, arching, fountain of pee. It was majestic, and I'm pretty sure had it not been pee I would have saluted and waited for the national anthem to play. But, I just stood there dumbfounded as he drenches me and himself in this Bellagio-esque fountain of pee. All down the from of my legs, my shoes, socks... soaked... He drenched his sock, the changing pad, and the floor of the van. Well done sir, well done.. I know this seems like a small deal to some of you who have been peed on, poo'd on, and had every conceivable bottle fluid on you at some point or another by your children. But this was my first and it was a whirlwind of emotions.. At first, I was like, "huh, so this is what it's like.." Followed by a little anger and asking the baby why he'd do that to me.. Like he's gonna answer me.. He was content to splash in his pee on the floor like a monkey you'd see do the same at a zoo.. So after anger came paralysis.. I will allow you 15 seconds of laugh time....................................................................... OK.. Yes, paralysis. Not having dealt with this before and being suddenly pee covered you don't know exactly how to react. Kind of like the tough guy who is a 455th degree black belt in 45 different forms of Kung Fu, then on the street when a lady is being mugged he freezes and watches it all go down, without lifting a finger.. That was me.. Sure, I'd laughed at Jill before as she has been peed on, poo'd on, etc... But, then it happens to me and I turn into the Tin Man from Wizard of Oz.. I just freeze... I'm standing there pee running into my socks, him splashing around like a deranged seal, and all I can do is yell for Jill. I yell what has happened and she responds with "what do you want me to do about it? Clean him up." Well played.. So I clean him up, change him, change me, wipe out the fan and put his changing pad on the top of the van to dry. I'm thankful there will be no more children, because I don't want to go through that again.
My laptop died on me as well recently. My hard drive decided life wasn't worth living and died. With it, it took about 50 some pieces of writing that was going to go toward this book idea I have. I've had people offer such helpful pieces of advice and comments as "you didn't back up your work?" "you didn't save it on a drive or anything?" No, no I didn't.. Had I have, I wouldn't be upset about it would I? And it's not like you plan for a crash of your hard drive... But alas, I guess I have no one to blame but myself for not doing that. So I now get to go back and try to find all this lost work as some of it is on Facebook. Some I can recreate from memory. But lesson learned. Everything is going on my flash drive from now on.
Jill ran her first 5 k recently so that is pretty awesome. I cheered her on by staying home with the baby and drinking coffee. But that is a huge accomplishment for her and for that I'm proud. It's not something I could ever do. She plans on doing it again next year and Caleb is planning on doing it with her. I'll be at the finish line with a Whopper in my hand and ketchup stains all over me cheering her on...
Caleb is getting ready to start his last year in elementary school... I can't begin to tell you how old this makes me feel... Next year he will be in a new school, junior high, and this makes my head hurt a little.. To add to this the twins are starting full day, Monday through Thursday pre-school. I'm actually struggling with this a little bit.. I've been home with them now for a good amount of time and it will be hard at first not having them home all day with me. It'll be just me and Alex.. It will be quiet... I'll have a little more maneuverability to go places as I'll just be lugging one kid with me as opposed to three. So there are pluses.
That really catches you up on what's been going on with me here the last few months. Not much of anything. Life has been good. I will do my best to update this more. I just get into a funk and don't try. I am going to get started on book pitches by the middle of September!
Until Next Time...
Be Well
Sunday, July 27, 2014
What Does The Cat Say????
Hey all! I know it's been awhile since I've put anything up here. I apologize for that. I honestly felt a serious slip in creativity or things to write about. Anyway, let's get on with this post. Caleb just spent the last week at church camp and I want to thank you all who took the time to email him. He had a huge stack of emails he brought home from you guys. You guys are amazing and you rock! Thank you so much for taking a moment to brighten his day!
That being said. I try to be a little creative in my letters to him. Just in case he's having a bad day, or maybe is home sick a little. So, I will try to throw a funny line in there somewhere or something just completely off the wall that may catch him off guard. This year was no exception. But I think I took it to another level this year by having our cat Akasha write him an email.. He loved it and shared it with his entire cabin. One of his counselors came up to me when I was signing Caleb out to come home and says. "Caleb is a great kid, he's a good listener, and that story about the cat was great man." So, I thought I'd share the letter with you and hopefully you enjoy it as much as Caleb and the entire Walnut cabin did..
Meow... *looks around*.... Ok, the dad isn't around me... Hey, it's me Kash.. Dad just walked away from the laptop and went into the bathroom, so I thought I'd send you an email. I don't know how much time I have so I'll make this as quick as possible.
Do you know how hard it is to type with no thumbs or real fingers?? I apologize for the mistakes if there are any.....
Not much going on around here.. The baby seems happy today... He's screaming a lot which I guess is how baby humans let you know they're happy... Seems like it'd be so much easier to just purr and rub his face on things like I do but whatever....
The two boys that look alike are a couple of pests... I try to show them I can be nice and wish them no harm. But they insist on chasing me, while making lion noises... It's really humiliating to be scared by humans making the noises of my larger, more deadly, relatives. But sometimes in the heat of the moment I think it really could be a lion... Turns out, I'm usually wrong.... I try saying Hi to them when I walk into the room, but they don't seem to understand me... The dad seems to understand me, he's usually pretty nice to me, and says Hi to me usually after I greet him. The boys are a little slow I guess.... Humans....
The mom still doesn't like me. So I just stay away from her.
Meow... Meow.... *looks around* Sorry, I thought I heard the bathroom door open...
So, the last few days have been pretty busy for me. I woke up, ate, gave myself a bath, then laid down for a nap.... I woke up, ate, gave myself a bath, then took another nap.... I then woke up, ate, used my litter box, cleaned behind my ears, then took a nap... I tell you, there are not enough hours in the day to be a cat... OH, I almost forgot to tell you.. I ALMOST got my tail last night.... I could see it sneaking up on me, so I tried attacking it, but it's much faster than I thought it'd be... But I promise you this.... I WILL get it one day and it WILL be sorry for following me around all the time...
Uh oh, the bathroom door is opening, I gotta go.... Have fun, be good, and I'll try to send you another letter if my paws aren't too tired...
Meow,
Kash
So there you have it. I hope to get some more going here soon.
Until next time.
Be Well,
Rob
That being said. I try to be a little creative in my letters to him. Just in case he's having a bad day, or maybe is home sick a little. So, I will try to throw a funny line in there somewhere or something just completely off the wall that may catch him off guard. This year was no exception. But I think I took it to another level this year by having our cat Akasha write him an email.. He loved it and shared it with his entire cabin. One of his counselors came up to me when I was signing Caleb out to come home and says. "Caleb is a great kid, he's a good listener, and that story about the cat was great man." So, I thought I'd share the letter with you and hopefully you enjoy it as much as Caleb and the entire Walnut cabin did..
Meow... *looks around*.... Ok, the dad isn't around me... Hey, it's me Kash.. Dad just walked away from the laptop and went into the bathroom, so I thought I'd send you an email. I don't know how much time I have so I'll make this as quick as possible.
Do you know how hard it is to type with no thumbs or real fingers?? I apologize for the mistakes if there are any.....
Not much going on around here.. The baby seems happy today... He's screaming a lot which I guess is how baby humans let you know they're happy... Seems like it'd be so much easier to just purr and rub his face on things like I do but whatever....
The two boys that look alike are a couple of pests... I try to show them I can be nice and wish them no harm. But they insist on chasing me, while making lion noises... It's really humiliating to be scared by humans making the noises of my larger, more deadly, relatives. But sometimes in the heat of the moment I think it really could be a lion... Turns out, I'm usually wrong.... I try saying Hi to them when I walk into the room, but they don't seem to understand me... The dad seems to understand me, he's usually pretty nice to me, and says Hi to me usually after I greet him. The boys are a little slow I guess.... Humans....
The mom still doesn't like me. So I just stay away from her.
Meow... Meow.... *looks around* Sorry, I thought I heard the bathroom door open...
So, the last few days have been pretty busy for me. I woke up, ate, gave myself a bath, then laid down for a nap.... I woke up, ate, gave myself a bath, then took another nap.... I then woke up, ate, used my litter box, cleaned behind my ears, then took a nap... I tell you, there are not enough hours in the day to be a cat... OH, I almost forgot to tell you.. I ALMOST got my tail last night.... I could see it sneaking up on me, so I tried attacking it, but it's much faster than I thought it'd be... But I promise you this.... I WILL get it one day and it WILL be sorry for following me around all the time...
Uh oh, the bathroom door is opening, I gotta go.... Have fun, be good, and I'll try to send you another letter if my paws aren't too tired...
Meow,
Kash
So there you have it. I hope to get some more going here soon.
Until next time.
Be Well,
Rob
Friday, June 20, 2014
I Wanna Be Sedated.....
Most of you know this title as a song from The Ramones.. This title however, takes on a little more meaning for me. As you all know by now, I have four boys. I love them to death, I would die for any one of them without thinking twice. That being said, I don't ever ever ever want any more kids.... Four is more than enough for me. With that in mind, allow me to over share with you people for awhile. Allow me to take you on a journey... One of shame.... One of pain.... One of over exposure.... I am of course referring to the fact I recently had a vasectomy..
The decision to have this procedure done, was one that was made simple by the fact that I have four boys.... As I said, I love them to death.. But I'm also pretty sure that they will in fact be the death of me.. They fight constantly, they scream constantly, someone is always crying, and I think I've personally watched more punches traded than in any 5 UFC matches you could pick out of a hat... Also, by having this procedure done, we hope to quell the question asked most to us............ "So are you guys going to try for a girl??" This question is asked more frequently than I care to mention. At first, I thought the people asking this question were joking. I mean, you DO see three of the four of our demons running around terrorizing whatever place we happen to be at don't you? So when I would hear this question I would instantly laugh out of the sheer ridiculousness of it. Then I'd notice the person asking the question staring at me like a deer about to get plowed by a car. Like I was the crazy person for laughing at such a question. Fighting the urge to grab this person by the collar, get an inch from their face, and scream "Do you NOT see these four kids?????? They're trying to kill me... I know they all look innocent.... I know they all are extremely cute... But it's part of their plan!!! They plot on me on a daily basis to slowly but surely drain the life out of me... And YOU have the nerve to ask if we're going to try for a girl?!?!?!?! See the baby?? HE WAS TRYING FOR A GIRL!!! I don't make girls apparently... You'd have thought I'd have learned that after the identical twins that I was destined to have all boys... But noooooo, I thought hey, the twins were a fluke maybe there's a girl in there somewhere... WRONG... Another boy... And the biggest one yet.... If we were to try for a girl ma'am, we'd most likely end up with a walking, talking toddler who is in fact ANOTHER BOY... So NO we will NOT be trying for a girl...." But alas, I don't... I swallow that rant, smile politely and say "Noo noo, I think we're done..." And you would be surprised at the number of people who continue to push after that answer. "Ohhhh come on... What's one more???" Ohhh I don't know, the final nail in my coffin?? The straw that breaks the camel's back when it comes to my sanity??? Not to mention send us directly into poverty, because I'm not sure if you're aware, but kids are expensive...
So all that being said, the decision was made to have the vasectomy done. Mind you, I wasn't exactly clapping like a mentally deranged seal at the idea. I know several guys who won't have it done due to fear. So to say I was looking forward to this is not even close to the truth. So I call up a local urologist and set up an appointment for a consultation. The day comes for the consultation and I'm a little on edge because I have NO idea what is going to happen. I mean, I know I'm not going to walk in and have them tackle me in the doorway and do the procedure right then and there, but I still am on edge. They call me back, take me to my room, and tell me to have a seat in the comfy chair. Ok, not so bad... A nice nurse comes in, takes my vitals and takes out a DVD. She looks at me and says "I hope you like cheesy 80's videos, because you're about to sit through 12 minutes of it and it's horrible." I like her... So she pops it in, turns it up, and starts walking out the door and says "When it's over, open the door so I know you've watched it, that or I'll hear the laughing coming from the room."
The video was every bit as awful as said it'd be. It starts off with this dude who I'm pretty sure was the head of Cobra Kai in Karate Kid grilling on his deck. He's wearing these shorts that even Richard Simmons would probably say were too short and a polo shirt with loafers... I am by no means a man of fashion but the least of this man's concerns should have been having a vasectomy.. His dressing that way should be birth control enough... So he's grilling and there's an inner monologue running as he watches his wife and kids swimming, he says "I love my wife and kids, but we have 2 kids and that's more than enough for me, but I love my wife and so maybe it's time we do something to make sure we don't have any more children."
At this point I want to travel back in time and punch this guy in the baby maker for dressing like that, and for whining about having two kids.. Sir, we had two at once, quit your whining and put on some pants..
So after talking to his wife, they decide to have the vasectomy. Cut to the doctor's office, they're sitting there and the doctor has just finished explaining the procedure, the guy is no longer smiling, and the doctor asks if he has any questions.. The greatest moment in this video then takes place... The guy looks all sheepish, clears his throat, and asks...... "By having this procedure done, it won't make me any less of a man will it????" And he looks as if he's about to cry. I literally laughed out loud in this room, by myself.... I wanted so badly for the doctor to say, "well sir, you may find yourself becoming more and more attracted to the male form.... You may even develop a lisp, an affinity for sundresses, and a new found love for all things Judy Garland...." And just watch the guy come unhinged... I mean seriously, people are afraid of that when it comes to vasectomy's? Personally, I was afraid of the pain.. Anyway, so the video mercifully comes to an end. The nurse walks in and says "awful huh? If my husband dressed like that he'd be lucky to have two kids.." Again, I like her...
So she tells me to sit tight and that the doctor would be in shortly. Ok, no problem.. Doctor comes in, hands me paperwork, we set up the day and time for the procedure, she explains what could possibly go wrong then she stops and starts writing on her pad. I'm thinking "hey, this wasn't so bad.." Wrong.... She turns around and says "ok, drop your pants and what not to your ankles." The horror.... The sheer, uncomfortable, violating horror.... After an "exam", she says "ok good to go.." I just lay there and cry softly to myself. I get up, dressed and follow her out of the room. We head down the hall, she drops me at the desk, goes into her office and starts typing on her laptop when it dawns on me... SHE NEVER WASHED HER HANDS!!!! So the shame of my visit has turned to disgust and amazement at how gross this lady is... I quickly get my prescriptions, get my card with my date and time on it and run out of there as quickly as possible before she starts eating something....
Day of the procedure comes.. I take my one Valium and one Norco that put me on goofy street. We head in, they almost immediately call me back. I strip down, but am allowed to leave my socks on, because that will save my dignity.. I lay on the table and pull the cover over me. Doctor comes in and he is wearing gloves. I feel somewhat better. He grabs this contraption and says "this is to numb you locally, it's going to feel like a series of rubber bands snapping your genitals.." Yes, because that's a normal Wednesday hobby of mine.... He says it like it's a normal occurrence to snap oneself with a rubber band in an area that is meant to be treated nicely.... Psycho... So he starts and he's dead on accurate... He does about 4 to 6 on each side and after the first three you don't really feel it. But those first three are terrible... After that, I honestly don't remember much.. The drugs must have really kicked in. I do remember the smell of burning as he cauterized the area. But that is really about it. All in all I was in and out in about 45 minutes to an hour..
I slept the rest of the day pretty much. The next 48 hours the pain set in and was pretty bad. So I spent it taking pain killers and sleeping. But the pain really took off after that. There are no words to describe the pain other than it's like you step out of bed and a horse kicks you in your business.... You pretty much want to fall over and die right there. A lot of ice, a lot of pain killers. We are 15 days out right now from having it done and I'm still experiencing some pain. Especially when certain infants kick me there while I'm feeding them, causing me to react by yelling out in pain, which in turn, causes the baby to cry... I can't win....
I love them to death... But they're constant reminders that I made the right decision. I would never tell a guy to NOT have it done. But, I will be honest when I tell them it's not a lot of fun, it does in fact hurt quite a bit, and you'll hate life for the first week after. But there is also some relief in the finality of it all, knowing there will be no more babies. I'm ready to move on to the stage of watching my four boys grow up, which they're doing quickly.
Anyway, so there you have it... Thank for allowing me to over share with you for a few minutes... Hopefully it wasn't too graphic for you.
Until Next Time,
Be Well.......
The decision to have this procedure done, was one that was made simple by the fact that I have four boys.... As I said, I love them to death.. But I'm also pretty sure that they will in fact be the death of me.. They fight constantly, they scream constantly, someone is always crying, and I think I've personally watched more punches traded than in any 5 UFC matches you could pick out of a hat... Also, by having this procedure done, we hope to quell the question asked most to us............ "So are you guys going to try for a girl??" This question is asked more frequently than I care to mention. At first, I thought the people asking this question were joking. I mean, you DO see three of the four of our demons running around terrorizing whatever place we happen to be at don't you? So when I would hear this question I would instantly laugh out of the sheer ridiculousness of it. Then I'd notice the person asking the question staring at me like a deer about to get plowed by a car. Like I was the crazy person for laughing at such a question. Fighting the urge to grab this person by the collar, get an inch from their face, and scream "Do you NOT see these four kids?????? They're trying to kill me... I know they all look innocent.... I know they all are extremely cute... But it's part of their plan!!! They plot on me on a daily basis to slowly but surely drain the life out of me... And YOU have the nerve to ask if we're going to try for a girl?!?!?!?! See the baby?? HE WAS TRYING FOR A GIRL!!! I don't make girls apparently... You'd have thought I'd have learned that after the identical twins that I was destined to have all boys... But noooooo, I thought hey, the twins were a fluke maybe there's a girl in there somewhere... WRONG... Another boy... And the biggest one yet.... If we were to try for a girl ma'am, we'd most likely end up with a walking, talking toddler who is in fact ANOTHER BOY... So NO we will NOT be trying for a girl...." But alas, I don't... I swallow that rant, smile politely and say "Noo noo, I think we're done..." And you would be surprised at the number of people who continue to push after that answer. "Ohhhh come on... What's one more???" Ohhh I don't know, the final nail in my coffin?? The straw that breaks the camel's back when it comes to my sanity??? Not to mention send us directly into poverty, because I'm not sure if you're aware, but kids are expensive...
So all that being said, the decision was made to have the vasectomy done. Mind you, I wasn't exactly clapping like a mentally deranged seal at the idea. I know several guys who won't have it done due to fear. So to say I was looking forward to this is not even close to the truth. So I call up a local urologist and set up an appointment for a consultation. The day comes for the consultation and I'm a little on edge because I have NO idea what is going to happen. I mean, I know I'm not going to walk in and have them tackle me in the doorway and do the procedure right then and there, but I still am on edge. They call me back, take me to my room, and tell me to have a seat in the comfy chair. Ok, not so bad... A nice nurse comes in, takes my vitals and takes out a DVD. She looks at me and says "I hope you like cheesy 80's videos, because you're about to sit through 12 minutes of it and it's horrible." I like her... So she pops it in, turns it up, and starts walking out the door and says "When it's over, open the door so I know you've watched it, that or I'll hear the laughing coming from the room."
The video was every bit as awful as said it'd be. It starts off with this dude who I'm pretty sure was the head of Cobra Kai in Karate Kid grilling on his deck. He's wearing these shorts that even Richard Simmons would probably say were too short and a polo shirt with loafers... I am by no means a man of fashion but the least of this man's concerns should have been having a vasectomy.. His dressing that way should be birth control enough... So he's grilling and there's an inner monologue running as he watches his wife and kids swimming, he says "I love my wife and kids, but we have 2 kids and that's more than enough for me, but I love my wife and so maybe it's time we do something to make sure we don't have any more children."
At this point I want to travel back in time and punch this guy in the baby maker for dressing like that, and for whining about having two kids.. Sir, we had two at once, quit your whining and put on some pants..
So after talking to his wife, they decide to have the vasectomy. Cut to the doctor's office, they're sitting there and the doctor has just finished explaining the procedure, the guy is no longer smiling, and the doctor asks if he has any questions.. The greatest moment in this video then takes place... The guy looks all sheepish, clears his throat, and asks...... "By having this procedure done, it won't make me any less of a man will it????" And he looks as if he's about to cry. I literally laughed out loud in this room, by myself.... I wanted so badly for the doctor to say, "well sir, you may find yourself becoming more and more attracted to the male form.... You may even develop a lisp, an affinity for sundresses, and a new found love for all things Judy Garland...." And just watch the guy come unhinged... I mean seriously, people are afraid of that when it comes to vasectomy's? Personally, I was afraid of the pain.. Anyway, so the video mercifully comes to an end. The nurse walks in and says "awful huh? If my husband dressed like that he'd be lucky to have two kids.." Again, I like her...
So she tells me to sit tight and that the doctor would be in shortly. Ok, no problem.. Doctor comes in, hands me paperwork, we set up the day and time for the procedure, she explains what could possibly go wrong then she stops and starts writing on her pad. I'm thinking "hey, this wasn't so bad.." Wrong.... She turns around and says "ok, drop your pants and what not to your ankles." The horror.... The sheer, uncomfortable, violating horror.... After an "exam", she says "ok good to go.." I just lay there and cry softly to myself. I get up, dressed and follow her out of the room. We head down the hall, she drops me at the desk, goes into her office and starts typing on her laptop when it dawns on me... SHE NEVER WASHED HER HANDS!!!! So the shame of my visit has turned to disgust and amazement at how gross this lady is... I quickly get my prescriptions, get my card with my date and time on it and run out of there as quickly as possible before she starts eating something....
Day of the procedure comes.. I take my one Valium and one Norco that put me on goofy street. We head in, they almost immediately call me back. I strip down, but am allowed to leave my socks on, because that will save my dignity.. I lay on the table and pull the cover over me. Doctor comes in and he is wearing gloves. I feel somewhat better. He grabs this contraption and says "this is to numb you locally, it's going to feel like a series of rubber bands snapping your genitals.." Yes, because that's a normal Wednesday hobby of mine.... He says it like it's a normal occurrence to snap oneself with a rubber band in an area that is meant to be treated nicely.... Psycho... So he starts and he's dead on accurate... He does about 4 to 6 on each side and after the first three you don't really feel it. But those first three are terrible... After that, I honestly don't remember much.. The drugs must have really kicked in. I do remember the smell of burning as he cauterized the area. But that is really about it. All in all I was in and out in about 45 minutes to an hour..
I slept the rest of the day pretty much. The next 48 hours the pain set in and was pretty bad. So I spent it taking pain killers and sleeping. But the pain really took off after that. There are no words to describe the pain other than it's like you step out of bed and a horse kicks you in your business.... You pretty much want to fall over and die right there. A lot of ice, a lot of pain killers. We are 15 days out right now from having it done and I'm still experiencing some pain. Especially when certain infants kick me there while I'm feeding them, causing me to react by yelling out in pain, which in turn, causes the baby to cry... I can't win....
I love them to death... But they're constant reminders that I made the right decision. I would never tell a guy to NOT have it done. But, I will be honest when I tell them it's not a lot of fun, it does in fact hurt quite a bit, and you'll hate life for the first week after. But there is also some relief in the finality of it all, knowing there will be no more babies. I'm ready to move on to the stage of watching my four boys grow up, which they're doing quickly.
Anyway, so there you have it... Thank for allowing me to over share with you for a few minutes... Hopefully it wasn't too graphic for you.
Until Next Time,
Be Well.......
Monday, June 16, 2014
Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes, Turn and face the strange...
Was of course a lyric from David Bowie's song "Changes".. But the meaning of the word changes was brought close to home recently by Caleb. Allow me to fill you in and share my horror with you...
Caleb is in 4th grade now, he just turned 10 years old. He's gotta be pushing just under 5ft tall and he's starting to not look like such a little kid anymore. Well, he comes home one day about a month ago with a packet that he says I need to sign and send back with him. Ok, no biggie, he has these all the time. Then he says the words that freeze me dead in my tracks... "It's about sex ed..." So, after my heart beat regulated and I could see straight again, I took said packet from him and told him I'd look it over and get it to him in a few minutes. The packet was an outline of the sex ed classes the school was going to conduct, what it was going to cover, and how we should prepare ourselves for the fall out of the dumpster fire they're about to start....
I was somewhat relieved to see that his school was primarily going to be focusing on puberty and what it entails, how the body changes, what they can expect to happen, etc.. The Jr. High kids would be tackling how babies are made, where they come from, and what they can do to lower teen pregnancy. We never had sex education in my school growing up. I have mentioned this to several people who all in turn look at me like I'm Michael Vick applying for a job as a dog show judge.. Apparently I'm the odd man out in this situation and most other schools offered Sex Ed to their students... Anyway, so I read this paper and it's uncomfortable. Not because of what it says so much, but because I knew this time in his life was coming and he is the type of kid to ask the questions I never would've at his age. Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying that's a flaw, I'm glad he's comfortable enough to ask these questions. Just there are times where I wish I wasn't the one fielding them. So I sign the paper saying he can participate in this class because we feel it will be to his benefit to know what's coming down the road.
So the dates come and go that the classes are supposed to take place. I'm expecting him to come home with questions and am mentally prepping myself for this, giving myself this mental pep talk, psyching myself up.. But days go by with no word from him. I took the approach if he has questions he will come to me with them. I didn't want to bombard him or share things with him he wasn't ready to hear. So I figured he'd hit me with whatever his 10 year old brain could come up with. But nothing.... So I figured either he's too embarrassed to ask me anything, or, the school did a really good job of explaining things. So I let it ride until......... 2 weeks later.........
It's 11:30 pm, he goes to bed about 8:30 pm. Everyone is in bed, I'm enjoying my quiet time watching a documentary on Netflix. I hear rustling in the kitchen, not unusual, Caleb will come down and get drinks sometimes, then pop into the living room to tell me good night. So per usual he walks into the living room. This time he sits down on the couch in front of me. After about 2 minutes of being silent, he turns to me and says "You know that class I took at school?" I say "yeah". He says "do you mind if I ask you some questions that I have about it??" In my head instantly I scream NOOOOOOOOOO! Like Vader below.
Caleb is in 4th grade now, he just turned 10 years old. He's gotta be pushing just under 5ft tall and he's starting to not look like such a little kid anymore. Well, he comes home one day about a month ago with a packet that he says I need to sign and send back with him. Ok, no biggie, he has these all the time. Then he says the words that freeze me dead in my tracks... "It's about sex ed..." So, after my heart beat regulated and I could see straight again, I took said packet from him and told him I'd look it over and get it to him in a few minutes. The packet was an outline of the sex ed classes the school was going to conduct, what it was going to cover, and how we should prepare ourselves for the fall out of the dumpster fire they're about to start....
I was somewhat relieved to see that his school was primarily going to be focusing on puberty and what it entails, how the body changes, what they can expect to happen, etc.. The Jr. High kids would be tackling how babies are made, where they come from, and what they can do to lower teen pregnancy. We never had sex education in my school growing up. I have mentioned this to several people who all in turn look at me like I'm Michael Vick applying for a job as a dog show judge.. Apparently I'm the odd man out in this situation and most other schools offered Sex Ed to their students... Anyway, so I read this paper and it's uncomfortable. Not because of what it says so much, but because I knew this time in his life was coming and he is the type of kid to ask the questions I never would've at his age. Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying that's a flaw, I'm glad he's comfortable enough to ask these questions. Just there are times where I wish I wasn't the one fielding them. So I sign the paper saying he can participate in this class because we feel it will be to his benefit to know what's coming down the road.
So the dates come and go that the classes are supposed to take place. I'm expecting him to come home with questions and am mentally prepping myself for this, giving myself this mental pep talk, psyching myself up.. But days go by with no word from him. I took the approach if he has questions he will come to me with them. I didn't want to bombard him or share things with him he wasn't ready to hear. So I figured he'd hit me with whatever his 10 year old brain could come up with. But nothing.... So I figured either he's too embarrassed to ask me anything, or, the school did a really good job of explaining things. So I let it ride until......... 2 weeks later.........
It's 11:30 pm, he goes to bed about 8:30 pm. Everyone is in bed, I'm enjoying my quiet time watching a documentary on Netflix. I hear rustling in the kitchen, not unusual, Caleb will come down and get drinks sometimes, then pop into the living room to tell me good night. So per usual he walks into the living room. This time he sits down on the couch in front of me. After about 2 minutes of being silent, he turns to me and says "You know that class I took at school?" I say "yeah". He says "do you mind if I ask you some questions that I have about it??" In my head instantly I scream NOOOOOOOOOO! Like Vader below.
But, knowing it's my duty as a father, I tell him "sure, what'cha got?" My mind is going a million miles per hour because this kid is very intelligent and can come up with great questions. He excuses himself to go grab the paper that he brought home outlining what all they covered. He sits down by me on the couch and looks at it. The following conversation takes place...
Caleb: They gave us this paper, it has a list of things on it that we could experience. Do you mind if I run through them? I mean, you're pretty much the only guy that I'm around all the time so I figured you'd be a good one to review this with in case I have any questions..
Me: (feeling somewhat relieved) So you just want to review it? Do you have any questions before we begin?
Caleb: Nope, no questions. But I want to make sure.
Me: Ok, shoot.
Caleb: Here is the checklist of what I may experience (mind you he JUST turned 10 and in my opinion isn't really experiencing any of them yet.)
Moodiness - Yes, I've been moody.
Wanting Independence - I definitely want my independence.
Crushes - Yeah, I have had crushes.
(then comes my favorite thing ever, one of the greatest things he's ever said)
Hair Growth - (he rubs his head) Well, you just cut my hair and it's still short so I would say that my hair isn't growing that quickly....
(at this point I am DYING on the inside... I don't have the heart to tell him that it's not quite what they meant, so I let it go and file that away mentally for later)
Me: That's the list, do you have any questions on what will happen or anything about what you learned?
Caleb: No, I'm comfortable with everything. I just wanted to go over it all to see if any new questions popped up.
(at this point it feels like an elephant has been lifted off my chest.)
Caleb: Well, I do have one question that is somewhat unrelated.
Me: alright, shoot.
Caleb: Where do babies come from and how are they made?
Me: Uhhhhhhhhh... What?????????
Caleb: Babies, I've always wanted to know where they come from and how they're made.
(At this point I would've rather him just walk over to me and slap me across the face)
Me: Well buddy.....(awkward silence)......This is probably something your mother and I should discuss and then come back to you about. (In my defense it does say to do that on his paperwork) So what I'll do is talk to your mom about it, figure out how we want to approach the subject, and sit down with you and talk it out ok?
Caleb: Good idea dad, I think mom may know more about it than you after all she's had 4 babies..
Me: You're probably right..
So.. That was pretty awful and awkward. I know she and I are going to have to tackle this subject soon because he's not the type to forget. Luckily he's on vacation this week. We figure we'll let him ask questions about what he wants to know so as to not over explain things, or tell him things he's not ready to hear. Either way this should be interesting.
And to think, we get to go through this 3 more times!!!
A belated Happy Fathers Day to all you dad's out there!!
Until Next time,
Be Well....
Tuesday, May 20, 2014
The Less You Speak, The More You Hear....
Hi, my name is Rob and I am an introvert... To those who truly know me this is about as shocking as being told water is wet. But, there are some that this could possibly surprise. I have never been one of those people who could jump on stage and perform, or put themselves out there without thinking twice. I want to be, I so desperately would love to be that kinda person. But my own line of thinking has sabotaged any chance of that happening. How you might ask? Let's flashback to my High School years. I wasn't always this introverted. At High School dances I would jump on stage with 4-5 other guys and dance YMCA and act like a complete fool, I would make scenes at restaurants just to make others laugh, I was very outspoken and opinionated. And it's that stage of my life that has made me the opposite today.. Head spinning yet? Do I sound enough like a complete head case? I am afraid of the person I used to be.. Because I KNOW they are out there. I was horribly judgmental, and made fun of people for everything they did that I thought wasn't cool (like I was Fonzie and the epitome of cool). So when I want to let go, sing, dance, do something crazy in front of people, I instantly think about 17 yr old me and KNOW that there someone like that around that will make fun of me or judge me. It's really quite sad. I shouldn't care what people think of me. But sadly, I do. Funny thing is, I don't care if you like me. But I won't give you a reason to make fun of me or judge me. As I stop to re-read this I realize how perfectly crazy I sound...
But there is a whole other side to my being introverted. I don't talk a whole lot. If you know me and I'm comfortable around you I will talk all day. I will act goofy and do the things I'm afraid of being judged for. I will let go and not care. But there are so few that I've reached that level with.
Take my small group for example. I have NO problems with them. I like them all and trust them to the point I've shared some very personal things with them. But during our group meetings and lessons I don't speak out very often. Sometimes not at all. Is it because I'm bored or don't want to be there? Not at all. I am listening, contemplating, and learning. But I don't have anything to contribute, I don't feel comfortable speaking up, I learn more by keeping my mouth shut and taking it all in from those who do know more than me. But I get the distinct feeling that some in our group may take issue with my being quiet. And that bothers me a little. If someone could spend a group in my mind and body they would see what it feels like to be me. What it feels like to not feel like you know enough to contribute, to not feel confident enough to talk. But to also see just how much I am getting out of watching and listening to everyone around me. It's not a slight against the group, it's not me being lazy or not caring, it's me being me. And I have honestly considered leaving our group because of all this. I don't see too many true introverts in our group, not to the level I am. Sure, everyone has a group or two where they don't contribute as much or sometimes even at all. But I feel like maybe they think I'm holding everyone back. And that's the last thing I want to do. So I struggle with the feelings of wanting to go, not wanting to go, not wanting to talk, wanting to talk, and where I fit in among everyone else. Good Lord, I think I may need a shrink...
My level of being an introvert climbed to the next level recently.. I look back on this incident with humor and a slight amount of horror. Let me fill you in:
Jill and I were shopping at Tanger's Outlet Mall in Howell recently.. She ducked into Maurices and was in there for about an hour. It was a beautiful day so I decided to park it on a bench outside the store and people watch for awhile. So, I've been sitting there about 30 minutes, minding my own business, texting with Chuck, watching people, enjoying the weather, when it happened........ A gentleman who was a little older than I am comes walking up the walk. I can see by his facial expression and body language he's looking to sit down.. I have three choices to make right now.. 1. Get up and leave. 2. Lay down on the bench and deny him room. 3. Suck it up and pretend he doesn't exist. I chose option 3. I'm someone who HATES small talk. If you're a complete stranger and you attempt small talk, I will shut you down most likely. It's uncomfortable, it's awkward, and it's not necessary. Every silence does NOT need to be filled with talk of the weather, sports, or random crap I care nothing about discussing with you. I'm someone who can sit in silence and stare at you for 30 minutes and be perfectly fine. But this guy apparently did NOT share my views on this... He ambles over and parks it next to me on the bench.. And you can just feel that he's going to talk to me. It's inevitable... So I continue to text on my phone and read random Tweets that I subscribe to. Hoping he'll see me doing this and take a hint... Wrong..... Dead wrong.... Here's how the conversation went... We'll call him Amirite Guy because that's what he likes to say.. For those of you unfamiliar with Amirite.. Here is the definition of the word..
Amirite Guy: Shopping with the wife, how about you?
Me: Yeah, she's in the store behind me...
Amirite Guy: This shopping stuff is brutal Amirite???
Me: Yeah ( going for the shut down)
Amirite Guy: Look at all these bags we're carrying, we're a couple of bags short of being pack mules Amirite??
Me: Yeah, pretty much.
Ok, this is where I'm not proud of myself.... Yet, I think it to be pretty funny. I can tell he's going to keep talking and turn this into a raging dumpster fire.. As we're sitting there I slyly hit the volume button on my phone and raise the volume up then hit "test" to play my ringtone.... Can you see where this is headed?? My ringtone starts playing... I let it go for 2-3 seconds then silence it or "answer my phone"... And I pretend to take a phone call.. In FULL conversation with absolutely no one. He's looking at me and I hold up the one finger like I'm telling him "sorry, I need to take this call it'll be a minute.." He starts fiddling with his bag, and after about 30-40 seconds of me talking to NOBODY, he finally gets up and walks into the store where his wife is.. I stop the conversation but cautiously keep the phone to my ear for about 10 seconds to make sure he's not watching me and waiting to spring through the door and hit me with more AMIRITES... I put my phone down and continue to text and read, about 5 minutes later he comes out with his wife and they head the opposite way... Phew... Crisis averted... Part of me feels bad for shutting Amirite Guy down, part of me is self high fiving myself for creative thinking to get myself out of forced awkward conversation.
But that little interaction is a snippet into how I feel about small talk. If I don't know you and we have no real topic to discuss it's better to just remain silent. If I know you, I will talk with you. I'm still not the strongest at small conversations but I will talk to you because I care enough to talk to you. It's weird. And I wish I didn't feel that way but it's who I am.
I took two aptitude tests just for giggles to see what kind of job they would recommend for me. Both tests told me I should be a writer.. Is there something to this? I do love writing... And it instantly brought to mind a quote I once heard about being an introverted writer..
John Green once said “Writing is something you do alone. Its a profession for introverts who want to tell you a story but don't want to make eye contact while doing it."
It's a sad but true statement. I love writing. I love using humor and making people laugh. And if I can make people laugh through my written or typed words then mission accomplished. I couldn't do nearly as well face to face.
But hey, my being introverted just broke my 2 month slump of not writing here. And hopefully this will launch another run of entries in the upcoming weeks and months....
Until Next Time....
Be Well
But there is a whole other side to my being introverted. I don't talk a whole lot. If you know me and I'm comfortable around you I will talk all day. I will act goofy and do the things I'm afraid of being judged for. I will let go and not care. But there are so few that I've reached that level with.
Take my small group for example. I have NO problems with them. I like them all and trust them to the point I've shared some very personal things with them. But during our group meetings and lessons I don't speak out very often. Sometimes not at all. Is it because I'm bored or don't want to be there? Not at all. I am listening, contemplating, and learning. But I don't have anything to contribute, I don't feel comfortable speaking up, I learn more by keeping my mouth shut and taking it all in from those who do know more than me. But I get the distinct feeling that some in our group may take issue with my being quiet. And that bothers me a little. If someone could spend a group in my mind and body they would see what it feels like to be me. What it feels like to not feel like you know enough to contribute, to not feel confident enough to talk. But to also see just how much I am getting out of watching and listening to everyone around me. It's not a slight against the group, it's not me being lazy or not caring, it's me being me. And I have honestly considered leaving our group because of all this. I don't see too many true introverts in our group, not to the level I am. Sure, everyone has a group or two where they don't contribute as much or sometimes even at all. But I feel like maybe they think I'm holding everyone back. And that's the last thing I want to do. So I struggle with the feelings of wanting to go, not wanting to go, not wanting to talk, wanting to talk, and where I fit in among everyone else. Good Lord, I think I may need a shrink...
My level of being an introvert climbed to the next level recently.. I look back on this incident with humor and a slight amount of horror. Let me fill you in:
Jill and I were shopping at Tanger's Outlet Mall in Howell recently.. She ducked into Maurices and was in there for about an hour. It was a beautiful day so I decided to park it on a bench outside the store and people watch for awhile. So, I've been sitting there about 30 minutes, minding my own business, texting with Chuck, watching people, enjoying the weather, when it happened........ A gentleman who was a little older than I am comes walking up the walk. I can see by his facial expression and body language he's looking to sit down.. I have three choices to make right now.. 1. Get up and leave. 2. Lay down on the bench and deny him room. 3. Suck it up and pretend he doesn't exist. I chose option 3. I'm someone who HATES small talk. If you're a complete stranger and you attempt small talk, I will shut you down most likely. It's uncomfortable, it's awkward, and it's not necessary. Every silence does NOT need to be filled with talk of the weather, sports, or random crap I care nothing about discussing with you. I'm someone who can sit in silence and stare at you for 30 minutes and be perfectly fine. But this guy apparently did NOT share my views on this... He ambles over and parks it next to me on the bench.. And you can just feel that he's going to talk to me. It's inevitable... So I continue to text on my phone and read random Tweets that I subscribe to. Hoping he'll see me doing this and take a hint... Wrong..... Dead wrong.... Here's how the conversation went... We'll call him Amirite Guy because that's what he likes to say.. For those of you unfamiliar with Amirite.. Here is the definition of the word..
A word that draws attention to a particularly clever (or not so much) play on words. Used primary on internet message boards.
How about this weather??? If it were any hotter you could cook eggs on the sidewalk Amirite??
Amirite Guy: Shopping with the wife, how about you?
Me: Yeah, she's in the store behind me...
Amirite Guy: This shopping stuff is brutal Amirite???
Me: Yeah ( going for the shut down)
Amirite Guy: Look at all these bags we're carrying, we're a couple of bags short of being pack mules Amirite??
Me: Yeah, pretty much.
Ok, this is where I'm not proud of myself.... Yet, I think it to be pretty funny. I can tell he's going to keep talking and turn this into a raging dumpster fire.. As we're sitting there I slyly hit the volume button on my phone and raise the volume up then hit "test" to play my ringtone.... Can you see where this is headed?? My ringtone starts playing... I let it go for 2-3 seconds then silence it or "answer my phone"... And I pretend to take a phone call.. In FULL conversation with absolutely no one. He's looking at me and I hold up the one finger like I'm telling him "sorry, I need to take this call it'll be a minute.." He starts fiddling with his bag, and after about 30-40 seconds of me talking to NOBODY, he finally gets up and walks into the store where his wife is.. I stop the conversation but cautiously keep the phone to my ear for about 10 seconds to make sure he's not watching me and waiting to spring through the door and hit me with more AMIRITES... I put my phone down and continue to text and read, about 5 minutes later he comes out with his wife and they head the opposite way... Phew... Crisis averted... Part of me feels bad for shutting Amirite Guy down, part of me is self high fiving myself for creative thinking to get myself out of forced awkward conversation.
But that little interaction is a snippet into how I feel about small talk. If I don't know you and we have no real topic to discuss it's better to just remain silent. If I know you, I will talk with you. I'm still not the strongest at small conversations but I will talk to you because I care enough to talk to you. It's weird. And I wish I didn't feel that way but it's who I am.
I took two aptitude tests just for giggles to see what kind of job they would recommend for me. Both tests told me I should be a writer.. Is there something to this? I do love writing... And it instantly brought to mind a quote I once heard about being an introverted writer..
John Green once said “Writing is something you do alone. Its a profession for introverts who want to tell you a story but don't want to make eye contact while doing it."
It's a sad but true statement. I love writing. I love using humor and making people laugh. And if I can make people laugh through my written or typed words then mission accomplished. I couldn't do nearly as well face to face.
But hey, my being introverted just broke my 2 month slump of not writing here. And hopefully this will launch another run of entries in the upcoming weeks and months....
Until Next Time....
Be Well
Monday, February 24, 2014
Do You Hear What I Hear.... Unfortunately...
Hey all! I'm starting to notice a trend or pattern here.. I seem to get the itch to write about every 5-6 days and then I can usually fire off two entries in 2-3 days then wait another 5-6 days. I must need a little time for material to present itself.. That, and having 4 kids, and stuff to do around here does keep one busy.. If you didn't notice the changes when you first came to the blog, you're blind... But in all seriousness, I had a person or two mention that the print was a little small for them to read. So you will notice I changed the size and font for the title page of the blog, I changed the size and font for the entry titles and dates, and I made the actual print of the entries bigger and more bold. Hopefully this will be of help as you lovingly read through every entry I've ever posted...EVER... I've decided that I am going to stop using my families actual names and replace them with nicknames. Some people have expressed they have difficulty following which kids is which and what order they're in. I will be coming up with those names shortly, I am open to suggestions as well :)
That being said, let's dive into this entry!!
I'd had some entries as of late that did not deal with or talk about my son's art classes. As you may have read in past entries (and if you haven't, stop now and immediately go back to do so.) his classes are a breeding ground for material for this blog. The hour that I sit and wait for him in his class offers me a sneak peek into the lives and parenting styles of dozens of sets of parents. And not that they're bad parents, but they seem to leave said parenting styles at home and let their kids terrorize anyone in their path, namely me...
I seem to be a magnet for every hyper, over stimulated, sugar buzzing, machine gun question firing, little kid in the city of Jackson. They all seem to have at one point or another found their way over to me and peppered me with questions on what I'm doing, what games I have on my phone, or they just sit there and stare into my soul and make attempts to steal it... And if it's not the kids, it's an over bearing stage mom who has pinned her hopes and dreams on the acting skills of her 6 year old daughter. Or the parents that think because I'm sitting by myself that I need a small talk buddy. When in fact I'd just as soon run into traffic with a blindfold on than engage in painful talk about the weather, or your kids.. Either way it's a guarantee I won't be left alone. However, that being said, 2 weeks ago I did make it through a class with NO unwanted interaction from kids or over friendly parents. I thought I'd stepped into another dimension.
So silly me, I foolishly thought when I got up there this past Saturday, and there was NO ONE there that I would have "another week of being left alone.." I was wrong... I was so very very wrong... I will preface the start of why, with a question to you... Do you know anyone or have you ever experienced being out in public, let's say at lunch/dinner, you're at the restaurant, sitting with your spouse/significant other, you're being respectful keeping your conversation to a hushed tone, but beside you there is a couple who you can tell are friendly people and they engage in this conversation, but they do so at a level that seems to be for YOUR benefit? Like they're having the normal conversation but are trying to be funny or witty and doing it like they're trying to entertain you. As I read this, I feel like I make no sense and am slightly crazy... Or you're in line at the grocery store and the couple in front of you are having a "play fight"only doing it loud enough for you to hear like it's supposed to be funny and entertaining, possibly even cute...
Well this as I mentioned above, is what happened with me this past Saturday... I came upstairs, found my normal sitting place away from main traffic, settled in, and immediately began brainstorming for the blog, trying to come up with topics to talk about and what not. And I got about 10 minutes in and I hear this loud conversation coming up the stairs... Great... I see them round the corner and stop to scope out a place to sit... 4 other empty tables, and a circle of 6 chairs to choose from.. Nope, they sense the dread I feel at the thought of them picking my table and start walking my way.. I mean honestly, any other table or seat in the place... But I apparently look lonely and desperate for company so over they wander. It's two ladies, friends I assume who each have a daughter in ballet. I gained this bit of knowledge through unwanted small talk. But, I politely nod and say that my son is in a cartooning class to which they basically ignore me and return to their conversation.. Really?? You bother me to say hi, make idle talk, and bore me with the details of why you're there, none of which am I at all interested in. Then, I in politeness return small talk only to be met with no reaction or answer.. And you wonder why I want people to sit elsewhere. So as I sit there playing scenes of their demise in comical ways over and over in my head, they decide to ramp up their conversation by about 60 decibels.. I can't even hear the voices in my head clearly now, and they don't like it when I ignore them, either intentionally or otherwise... So let me set the scene for you, we're at a 6-8 foot table. I'm sitting at one end, they are sitting down at the other one on one side of the table, the other at the end of the table. So, for the sake of identification we'll call lady one Flo and her friend is Mabel. Flo immediately throws this military grade mom bag on the table, shaking my coffee, and my nerves.. She climbs into this bag and comes out with knitting materials which is met with approving "oooooh's" from Mabel... Flo then goes into painstakingly LONG detail of how she came to choose the colors for the scarf she is making... And how she's a huge fan of pastels... But not just any old pastel, she prefers yellows, blues, greens, and BOOOM!!!! Sorry, in my head I just shot myself with a bazooka.. But Mable is intrigued and approves of the colors Flo has chosen.. Mabel then goes into a diatribe about how she has sausage fingers and couldn't possibly learn how to knit/crochet/whatever.. And that she is so uncoordinated that she would most likely end up stabbing herself with a knitting needle.. To which I almost chime in with "well let's not be hasty, maybe you should give this whole knitting thing a whirl..." But I try my best to continue with brainstorming. At this point the conversation feels like it's between Flo and Mabel, but being discussed loud enough for me to enjoy. Mabel asks Flo why she doesn't sell them and make some money because her craftsmanship is outstanding, Flo replies with the fact she does it as a hobby and to make people happy and not to make BOOOOOOM!! Sorry, in my head I just belly flopped onto a landmine... She's not in it for money was her point.. I look up quickly to see what time it is and get a glimpse of Flo and Mabel. Now my descriptions are not meant to be attacks, but honest evaluations of what I see. Flo, was never properly trained in the art of make up application... She has not learned that it's Covergirl, not Dutchboy.. She looks like a smaller version of Mimi from the Drew Carey Show, like you'd almost expect her feet to honk when she walks, and like she's a threat to throw a pie at you at any given second... Mabel is younger, and was clearly a smoker, as I smelled smoke on her when she walked by me. She reminded me of a Guns-n-Roses fan who time warped from 1989 to our table. So, I return to my notepad and Flo is doing a running commentary for everyone's benefit as she knits. She's counting stitches out loud, she's explaining something about an "H stitch" or something, and trying to walk Mabel on how to make stitches. This whole process is lost on Mabel who after every instruction reiterates the fact she could never learn to knit and while it's beautiful she most likely will never try...
The conversation then takes a turn to where they want to go to lunch.. This topic of discussion takes a "heated" turn. And by heated, I mean they playfully argue loud enough for my listening pleasure... They talk about going to Olive Garden because they're in the mood for good Italian food. Might want to check Taco Bell for some authentic Mexican food while you're at it. Mable says she could do Italian and suggests Fazoli's... I just want to go home... They then complain about the prices of some local deli's downtown. Then out of nowhere Flo puts her knitting away. She and Mabel stand up and put their coats on and head out to pick up their kids!!!! I immediately break into a 5 minute Snoopy happy dance.. It looked a lot like this...
So I look at the clock.. I still have about 20 minutes left. A mom from a previous entry appears. She is the mom who let her son with Strep run all over coughing on people, and was sharing contaminated snacks with other kids.. She parks at a table 2 down from me which is fine. Then proceeds to forget about her son. He is doing wind sprints back and forth across the room, clearly violating the "No Running" sign. He's close enough I could easily stick a foot out and end his cardiovascular activities. But she pipes up with the following (we'll call him Andy). "Andy get back here, if you don't get back here a stranger is going to take you..." Seriously?? That's your go-to parenting move? Threatening your kid with being abducted.... How warped are you?? She repeats this three times.. Telling him if he doesn't come back and stay in sight that a stranger would take him... Then I stop and think about it... He's down by ME.... I'm the only other person in the room.. Am I the stranger you're threatening your kid with??? I'm the only "stranger" in sight... Great.. Make me out to be the boogieman.... I wouldn't abduct your little Andy if you paid me. I'd leave him right where he is so he could terrorize everyone else. But thank you for including me in your scare tactic with your son.. Nothing says neighborly like using the only other person in the room to threaten your son with abduction... Why don't you just tell him I drive a van that says "Free Candy" on it...
Anyway, they left soon enough and just in time for Caleb to come out of class. And not a moment too soon, I'm pretty much in a dead sprint by the time we hit the door to leave. Well, at least I only have until April 12th to do this.... I'm offering in invitation to anyone who'd like to accompany me to one of these sessions and experience this for yourself!! Please... For my sanity...
I will try to get another entry out here later this week. I have a running list of about 30 topics to go from ranging on a vast variety of topics from deeply personal to one's that are very light and require little thought or emotional investment. As always, thank you for stopping by. Be sure to subscribe, leave comments, suggestions, or questions on your way out. Using the options on the right hand side of the blog..
Until Next Time,
Be Well...
That being said, let's dive into this entry!!
I'd had some entries as of late that did not deal with or talk about my son's art classes. As you may have read in past entries (and if you haven't, stop now and immediately go back to do so.) his classes are a breeding ground for material for this blog. The hour that I sit and wait for him in his class offers me a sneak peek into the lives and parenting styles of dozens of sets of parents. And not that they're bad parents, but they seem to leave said parenting styles at home and let their kids terrorize anyone in their path, namely me...
I seem to be a magnet for every hyper, over stimulated, sugar buzzing, machine gun question firing, little kid in the city of Jackson. They all seem to have at one point or another found their way over to me and peppered me with questions on what I'm doing, what games I have on my phone, or they just sit there and stare into my soul and make attempts to steal it... And if it's not the kids, it's an over bearing stage mom who has pinned her hopes and dreams on the acting skills of her 6 year old daughter. Or the parents that think because I'm sitting by myself that I need a small talk buddy. When in fact I'd just as soon run into traffic with a blindfold on than engage in painful talk about the weather, or your kids.. Either way it's a guarantee I won't be left alone. However, that being said, 2 weeks ago I did make it through a class with NO unwanted interaction from kids or over friendly parents. I thought I'd stepped into another dimension.
So silly me, I foolishly thought when I got up there this past Saturday, and there was NO ONE there that I would have "another week of being left alone.." I was wrong... I was so very very wrong... I will preface the start of why, with a question to you... Do you know anyone or have you ever experienced being out in public, let's say at lunch/dinner, you're at the restaurant, sitting with your spouse/significant other, you're being respectful keeping your conversation to a hushed tone, but beside you there is a couple who you can tell are friendly people and they engage in this conversation, but they do so at a level that seems to be for YOUR benefit? Like they're having the normal conversation but are trying to be funny or witty and doing it like they're trying to entertain you. As I read this, I feel like I make no sense and am slightly crazy... Or you're in line at the grocery store and the couple in front of you are having a "play fight"only doing it loud enough for you to hear like it's supposed to be funny and entertaining, possibly even cute...
Well this as I mentioned above, is what happened with me this past Saturday... I came upstairs, found my normal sitting place away from main traffic, settled in, and immediately began brainstorming for the blog, trying to come up with topics to talk about and what not. And I got about 10 minutes in and I hear this loud conversation coming up the stairs... Great... I see them round the corner and stop to scope out a place to sit... 4 other empty tables, and a circle of 6 chairs to choose from.. Nope, they sense the dread I feel at the thought of them picking my table and start walking my way.. I mean honestly, any other table or seat in the place... But I apparently look lonely and desperate for company so over they wander. It's two ladies, friends I assume who each have a daughter in ballet. I gained this bit of knowledge through unwanted small talk. But, I politely nod and say that my son is in a cartooning class to which they basically ignore me and return to their conversation.. Really?? You bother me to say hi, make idle talk, and bore me with the details of why you're there, none of which am I at all interested in. Then, I in politeness return small talk only to be met with no reaction or answer.. And you wonder why I want people to sit elsewhere. So as I sit there playing scenes of their demise in comical ways over and over in my head, they decide to ramp up their conversation by about 60 decibels.. I can't even hear the voices in my head clearly now, and they don't like it when I ignore them, either intentionally or otherwise... So let me set the scene for you, we're at a 6-8 foot table. I'm sitting at one end, they are sitting down at the other one on one side of the table, the other at the end of the table. So, for the sake of identification we'll call lady one Flo and her friend is Mabel. Flo immediately throws this military grade mom bag on the table, shaking my coffee, and my nerves.. She climbs into this bag and comes out with knitting materials which is met with approving "oooooh's" from Mabel... Flo then goes into painstakingly LONG detail of how she came to choose the colors for the scarf she is making... And how she's a huge fan of pastels... But not just any old pastel, she prefers yellows, blues, greens, and BOOOM!!!! Sorry, in my head I just shot myself with a bazooka.. But Mable is intrigued and approves of the colors Flo has chosen.. Mabel then goes into a diatribe about how she has sausage fingers and couldn't possibly learn how to knit/crochet/whatever.. And that she is so uncoordinated that she would most likely end up stabbing herself with a knitting needle.. To which I almost chime in with "well let's not be hasty, maybe you should give this whole knitting thing a whirl..." But I try my best to continue with brainstorming. At this point the conversation feels like it's between Flo and Mabel, but being discussed loud enough for me to enjoy. Mabel asks Flo why she doesn't sell them and make some money because her craftsmanship is outstanding, Flo replies with the fact she does it as a hobby and to make people happy and not to make BOOOOOOM!! Sorry, in my head I just belly flopped onto a landmine... She's not in it for money was her point.. I look up quickly to see what time it is and get a glimpse of Flo and Mabel. Now my descriptions are not meant to be attacks, but honest evaluations of what I see. Flo, was never properly trained in the art of make up application... She has not learned that it's Covergirl, not Dutchboy.. She looks like a smaller version of Mimi from the Drew Carey Show, like you'd almost expect her feet to honk when she walks, and like she's a threat to throw a pie at you at any given second... Mabel is younger, and was clearly a smoker, as I smelled smoke on her when she walked by me. She reminded me of a Guns-n-Roses fan who time warped from 1989 to our table. So, I return to my notepad and Flo is doing a running commentary for everyone's benefit as she knits. She's counting stitches out loud, she's explaining something about an "H stitch" or something, and trying to walk Mabel on how to make stitches. This whole process is lost on Mabel who after every instruction reiterates the fact she could never learn to knit and while it's beautiful she most likely will never try...
The conversation then takes a turn to where they want to go to lunch.. This topic of discussion takes a "heated" turn. And by heated, I mean they playfully argue loud enough for my listening pleasure... They talk about going to Olive Garden because they're in the mood for good Italian food. Might want to check Taco Bell for some authentic Mexican food while you're at it. Mable says she could do Italian and suggests Fazoli's... I just want to go home... They then complain about the prices of some local deli's downtown. Then out of nowhere Flo puts her knitting away. She and Mabel stand up and put their coats on and head out to pick up their kids!!!! I immediately break into a 5 minute Snoopy happy dance.. It looked a lot like this...
So I look at the clock.. I still have about 20 minutes left. A mom from a previous entry appears. She is the mom who let her son with Strep run all over coughing on people, and was sharing contaminated snacks with other kids.. She parks at a table 2 down from me which is fine. Then proceeds to forget about her son. He is doing wind sprints back and forth across the room, clearly violating the "No Running" sign. He's close enough I could easily stick a foot out and end his cardiovascular activities. But she pipes up with the following (we'll call him Andy). "Andy get back here, if you don't get back here a stranger is going to take you..." Seriously?? That's your go-to parenting move? Threatening your kid with being abducted.... How warped are you?? She repeats this three times.. Telling him if he doesn't come back and stay in sight that a stranger would take him... Then I stop and think about it... He's down by ME.... I'm the only other person in the room.. Am I the stranger you're threatening your kid with??? I'm the only "stranger" in sight... Great.. Make me out to be the boogieman.... I wouldn't abduct your little Andy if you paid me. I'd leave him right where he is so he could terrorize everyone else. But thank you for including me in your scare tactic with your son.. Nothing says neighborly like using the only other person in the room to threaten your son with abduction... Why don't you just tell him I drive a van that says "Free Candy" on it...
Anyway, they left soon enough and just in time for Caleb to come out of class. And not a moment too soon, I'm pretty much in a dead sprint by the time we hit the door to leave. Well, at least I only have until April 12th to do this.... I'm offering in invitation to anyone who'd like to accompany me to one of these sessions and experience this for yourself!! Please... For my sanity...
I will try to get another entry out here later this week. I have a running list of about 30 topics to go from ranging on a vast variety of topics from deeply personal to one's that are very light and require little thought or emotional investment. As always, thank you for stopping by. Be sure to subscribe, leave comments, suggestions, or questions on your way out. Using the options on the right hand side of the blog..
Until Next Time,
Be Well...
Tuesday, February 18, 2014
Under The Bus You Go.....
Just wanted to take a second at the start here to thank you all for humoring me and reading my blog. I realize it's nothing special, just words used to describe the insanity that is staying at home with 3 boys, and having 4 boys over all. But it means a lot that you would take a few minutes and share in that craziness, then offer suggestions, comments, and ask questions afterward. Thanks to you guys my blog has had over 1,000 hits since January 1st. And it's been picked up and put up on a couple of sites where people can go and search for blogs. I'll get the info out when I get the exact info myself. But keep reading, keep commenting, asking questions, etc... So now that I've taken 45 seconds of your life you'll never get back. Let's dive into this entry...
I've discovered as I've said in the past that I am a master interrogator. I can get my kids to crack in seconds when something has gone down. It takes cunning, guile, intelligence, and a mean, stare a hole through your soul glare... Or, it just takes two 4 year old children who don't want to get in trouble, so they throw the other under the bus. Case in point today.. I went to put the Wii controller on the charger as I had noticed it starting to not respond. I get out into the kitchen, place the controller on the charger, and wait for the glow of the comforting blue light to appear to let me know Wii usage is only a short time away... A few seconds pass and no light... So I sit there staring at it like I can control it with my mind. Still no light, I shake it because that's what most technically sound people do when faced with a technical problem. No light.. I sit there and swat and paw at it like a mentally challenged bear, complete with grunting. Again, no light... Finally it dawns on me to take the controller off the charger (don't judge me, it's been a long morning). I lift the controller off and what do I see? The gold connectors that the controllers rest against to take their charge have all been pulled out and twisted... And not like "oops I may have just bent that accidentally." This was full out Lenny from Of Mice and Men, pet the bunnies and snap their necks, bent and twisted...
I loudly say "what the heck happened to the Wii charger?" Both the twins come sprinting over and stop in front of me and look at me like deer in headlights. Jonah goes "what happened dad, did YOU break the charger?" I respond with "no... looks like someone was messing with it and twisted all the connectors on it, who could have done that?" Josh instantly goes, "Jonah, it was definitely Jonah dad, why did he break it?"
Now, my powers of deduction have taught me over the last year or two that 98% of the time, the first twin to speak up and throw the other under the bus, is the true guilty party... But to give him the benefit of the doubt, more like I wanted to see how far he'd bury himself, I say "oh, Jonah did it?" Josh goes "yeah, he must have done it while you were sleeping at night.. Right... So out of obligation and just to make sure it wasn't him I look at Jonah and say "Jonah, did you do it?" He goes "it wasn't me dad, it was Joshy." But in a way that wasn't panicked or sounded like a cover up. So again, I turn my attention to Josh and sternly say "What did you do Josh?" I realize that this sounds pretty accusatory but you'd be surprised at how easily and quickly kids spill the truth when you act like you already know what happened or that they did it.
Now Josh looks uncomfortable and I know I have him. He's taken to doing this thing like detectives do in shows where they rub their chins while they think.. So I ask him again. "What did you do Josh? How did it get broken?" He's rubbing his chin for a moment, stops, and goes. "It happened while I was asleep.. I must have been sleeping and came down stairs and broke it.." My mind instantly flies to the episode of Friends where Joey can't lie and tells stories of raccoon's being at fault.. Like this:
I stop him as he continues to ramble.. I say "Josh, please just tell me how you did it?" And he starts rubbing his chin more, stops, and goes "I need help dad.." That came out of left field.... Help with what I ask.. "With words dad, I need help with words." I'm conflicted at this point.. I'm pretty angry, but I'm also trying to stifle laughter because he's so random and weird... I become a little more stern "Josh, either tell me what you did and how you broke it or you will sit in time out for a very long time." He looks up at me and goes "ohhh fine..." The proceeds to make little pincers with his thumb and forefinger, and says, "the little tweezers, just used the little tweezers you know.." No, I don't know... We to my knowledge do not own tweezers in this household. So it becomes apparent at this point that I'm NEVER going to find out how the charger was broken. But I do know who broke it. And I guess at this point that's enough for me.
They are amazingly quick to throw the other under the bus as I've said. But what's funny is when I've caught something Caleb has done. All three boys are sitting in the living room, and I come out and ask "who's done this???" Knowing full well it was Caleb... Instantly the boys turn on each other and start throwing the other under the bus.. Wow, talk about no honor among thieves.. They're willing to blame the other for things they had to have known they didn't do... Then to top it off Caleb will pick a twin and blame him. This past week, Caleb found it necessary to take my bar of soap and proceed to carve and gouge it with the sail from a toy boat with all the skill of a sculptor who's been hit in the head with a brick a few times... So I get up one morning, stumble to the bathroom and see this bar of soap on the edge of the bath tub that looks like it suffered some horrific prison shower attack, and now lays mangled and disfigured, if you look closely you can still see the outline of what used to be a bar of soap.... But now only a heap of soap, deeply shanked and carved remains.. I don't think the soap saw it coming... Probably for the best... I ask Caleb why he would do that to my bar of soap.. He ponders it for a second and says "Oh, I thought it was mine..."
Ohhhh OK... Because if it's yours it makes it ok to do that, and makes it less weird and creepy... I reply with "No, that was MY soap, why did you do it?" He sits back on the couch and looks up at me and shrugs and says " I was using the bathroom dad, I was reading a magazine and must not have realized what I was doing........" Um.... WHAT?!?!? At this point he's won, not on account of telling the truth or giving a reasonable answer.. But on account that what he said was so off the wall weird that my head exploded everywhere... I literally had to repeat what he said back to him, just to make sure I heard him correctly... I say "you were using the bathroom, and you were reading a magazine and didn't realize what you were doing??" He looks at me dead pan and says "uh huh, Highlights.. I was reading Highlights." Second explosion goes off in my head... Still trying to grasp this I go over it with him, if anything to hopefully point out how ludicrous this really sounds... I say "ok, you're in bathroom using it, you have a magazine at least in one hand, how do you carve a bar of soap with only one hand? Because you have to hold the soap steady, then gouge, carve, and stab it with the other." At this point I'm less concerned apparently with WHY he did it and more interested in the logistics of HOW he did it.. He sits there a second and then shrugs and says "I'm not really sure, maybe the magazine was on the edge of the tub or on the floor and I had my hands free?" Ok, checkmate, you win.. This mental game of chess is over and I'm beat. I realize I'm not going to get a straight answer out of him, let alone one that makes sense and doesn't make my head hurt. I'm starting to think he knew what he was doing.... He figured, if I keep doing this verbal soft shoe with every question he asks, he'll eventually give up... Well sir, well played... If you played those chances, you win... And I tip my hat to you.. Because at 9 years old, you managed to say just the right things to blow my mind and eventually give up because you're so weird and random... Kinda proud... Kinda scared for the next 8-10 years to see what he cooks up as he gets older.. I have a feeling I am going to rapidly age once he hits 13-14 years old...
What have I gotten myself into? The only child I have relative control over is Alex, the baby. And that's just because he doesn't move yet... Outside of that he controls me too... Feed me, change me, entertain me, don't you dare leave the room fat man... The other 3 I fear are smarter than me already... My fear lay in them figuring this out... When they figure out they're smarter than I am it's over.. Just like when they realize there are 3 of them and 1 of me... I really think they're starting to realize this already.. They attack with the mindset "you might get one of us, but you can't get all of us.." And usually by this time two of them have decided who the sacrificial lamb is going to be and do away with him and make their get away. If I had hair it'd probably be gray. But I think my hair could see the future and that I would have four boys, so it bailed on me by the time I was 21.. But that's another story for another day...
On a positive note, Detroit Tiger baseball is back!! Spring Training for the entire team officially began today. The Daytona 500 is this Sunday.. So the elements of spring are starting to pop up.. We just need to get rid of the foot and half of snow we have in our yard....
Anyway, my next blog will most likely be my annual baseball post. Because I can never talk about baseball enough.. Love love love the game...
Until Then,
Be Well.....
P.S. I just found these and really want to get them for the boys...
I've discovered as I've said in the past that I am a master interrogator. I can get my kids to crack in seconds when something has gone down. It takes cunning, guile, intelligence, and a mean, stare a hole through your soul glare... Or, it just takes two 4 year old children who don't want to get in trouble, so they throw the other under the bus. Case in point today.. I went to put the Wii controller on the charger as I had noticed it starting to not respond. I get out into the kitchen, place the controller on the charger, and wait for the glow of the comforting blue light to appear to let me know Wii usage is only a short time away... A few seconds pass and no light... So I sit there staring at it like I can control it with my mind. Still no light, I shake it because that's what most technically sound people do when faced with a technical problem. No light.. I sit there and swat and paw at it like a mentally challenged bear, complete with grunting. Again, no light... Finally it dawns on me to take the controller off the charger (don't judge me, it's been a long morning). I lift the controller off and what do I see? The gold connectors that the controllers rest against to take their charge have all been pulled out and twisted... And not like "oops I may have just bent that accidentally." This was full out Lenny from Of Mice and Men, pet the bunnies and snap their necks, bent and twisted...
I loudly say "what the heck happened to the Wii charger?" Both the twins come sprinting over and stop in front of me and look at me like deer in headlights. Jonah goes "what happened dad, did YOU break the charger?" I respond with "no... looks like someone was messing with it and twisted all the connectors on it, who could have done that?" Josh instantly goes, "Jonah, it was definitely Jonah dad, why did he break it?"
Now, my powers of deduction have taught me over the last year or two that 98% of the time, the first twin to speak up and throw the other under the bus, is the true guilty party... But to give him the benefit of the doubt, more like I wanted to see how far he'd bury himself, I say "oh, Jonah did it?" Josh goes "yeah, he must have done it while you were sleeping at night.. Right... So out of obligation and just to make sure it wasn't him I look at Jonah and say "Jonah, did you do it?" He goes "it wasn't me dad, it was Joshy." But in a way that wasn't panicked or sounded like a cover up. So again, I turn my attention to Josh and sternly say "What did you do Josh?" I realize that this sounds pretty accusatory but you'd be surprised at how easily and quickly kids spill the truth when you act like you already know what happened or that they did it.
Now Josh looks uncomfortable and I know I have him. He's taken to doing this thing like detectives do in shows where they rub their chins while they think.. So I ask him again. "What did you do Josh? How did it get broken?" He's rubbing his chin for a moment, stops, and goes. "It happened while I was asleep.. I must have been sleeping and came down stairs and broke it.." My mind instantly flies to the episode of Friends where Joey can't lie and tells stories of raccoon's being at fault.. Like this:
I stop him as he continues to ramble.. I say "Josh, please just tell me how you did it?" And he starts rubbing his chin more, stops, and goes "I need help dad.." That came out of left field.... Help with what I ask.. "With words dad, I need help with words." I'm conflicted at this point.. I'm pretty angry, but I'm also trying to stifle laughter because he's so random and weird... I become a little more stern "Josh, either tell me what you did and how you broke it or you will sit in time out for a very long time." He looks up at me and goes "ohhh fine..." The proceeds to make little pincers with his thumb and forefinger, and says, "the little tweezers, just used the little tweezers you know.." No, I don't know... We to my knowledge do not own tweezers in this household. So it becomes apparent at this point that I'm NEVER going to find out how the charger was broken. But I do know who broke it. And I guess at this point that's enough for me.
They are amazingly quick to throw the other under the bus as I've said. But what's funny is when I've caught something Caleb has done. All three boys are sitting in the living room, and I come out and ask "who's done this???" Knowing full well it was Caleb... Instantly the boys turn on each other and start throwing the other under the bus.. Wow, talk about no honor among thieves.. They're willing to blame the other for things they had to have known they didn't do... Then to top it off Caleb will pick a twin and blame him. This past week, Caleb found it necessary to take my bar of soap and proceed to carve and gouge it with the sail from a toy boat with all the skill of a sculptor who's been hit in the head with a brick a few times... So I get up one morning, stumble to the bathroom and see this bar of soap on the edge of the bath tub that looks like it suffered some horrific prison shower attack, and now lays mangled and disfigured, if you look closely you can still see the outline of what used to be a bar of soap.... But now only a heap of soap, deeply shanked and carved remains.. I don't think the soap saw it coming... Probably for the best... I ask Caleb why he would do that to my bar of soap.. He ponders it for a second and says "Oh, I thought it was mine..."
Ohhhh OK... Because if it's yours it makes it ok to do that, and makes it less weird and creepy... I reply with "No, that was MY soap, why did you do it?" He sits back on the couch and looks up at me and shrugs and says " I was using the bathroom dad, I was reading a magazine and must not have realized what I was doing........" Um.... WHAT?!?!? At this point he's won, not on account of telling the truth or giving a reasonable answer.. But on account that what he said was so off the wall weird that my head exploded everywhere... I literally had to repeat what he said back to him, just to make sure I heard him correctly... I say "you were using the bathroom, and you were reading a magazine and didn't realize what you were doing??" He looks at me dead pan and says "uh huh, Highlights.. I was reading Highlights." Second explosion goes off in my head... Still trying to grasp this I go over it with him, if anything to hopefully point out how ludicrous this really sounds... I say "ok, you're in bathroom using it, you have a magazine at least in one hand, how do you carve a bar of soap with only one hand? Because you have to hold the soap steady, then gouge, carve, and stab it with the other." At this point I'm less concerned apparently with WHY he did it and more interested in the logistics of HOW he did it.. He sits there a second and then shrugs and says "I'm not really sure, maybe the magazine was on the edge of the tub or on the floor and I had my hands free?" Ok, checkmate, you win.. This mental game of chess is over and I'm beat. I realize I'm not going to get a straight answer out of him, let alone one that makes sense and doesn't make my head hurt. I'm starting to think he knew what he was doing.... He figured, if I keep doing this verbal soft shoe with every question he asks, he'll eventually give up... Well sir, well played... If you played those chances, you win... And I tip my hat to you.. Because at 9 years old, you managed to say just the right things to blow my mind and eventually give up because you're so weird and random... Kinda proud... Kinda scared for the next 8-10 years to see what he cooks up as he gets older.. I have a feeling I am going to rapidly age once he hits 13-14 years old...
What have I gotten myself into? The only child I have relative control over is Alex, the baby. And that's just because he doesn't move yet... Outside of that he controls me too... Feed me, change me, entertain me, don't you dare leave the room fat man... The other 3 I fear are smarter than me already... My fear lay in them figuring this out... When they figure out they're smarter than I am it's over.. Just like when they realize there are 3 of them and 1 of me... I really think they're starting to realize this already.. They attack with the mindset "you might get one of us, but you can't get all of us.." And usually by this time two of them have decided who the sacrificial lamb is going to be and do away with him and make their get away. If I had hair it'd probably be gray. But I think my hair could see the future and that I would have four boys, so it bailed on me by the time I was 21.. But that's another story for another day...
On a positive note, Detroit Tiger baseball is back!! Spring Training for the entire team officially began today. The Daytona 500 is this Sunday.. So the elements of spring are starting to pop up.. We just need to get rid of the foot and half of snow we have in our yard....
Anyway, my next blog will most likely be my annual baseball post. Because I can never talk about baseball enough.. Love love love the game...
Until Then,
Be Well.....
P.S. I just found these and really want to get them for the boys...
Wednesday, February 12, 2014
The Art Of Chaos....
So I've been sitting here recently trying to come up with different blog topics. I've had some good ones come through from you readers who are kind enough to make suggestions. I had one come through not too long ago, and it's been one of those ideas that has stuck in my mind. I haven't used it yet because a small voice in my head keeps saying "dude, nobody is going to care." But you know what? It's my blog, and this person pitched the idea. So I'm going to run with it and we'll see where we end up... It'll either take off like a majestic eagle in flight or crash miserably like the mentally challenged sparrow did into my bay window last year... Either way.. Here we go..
The suggestion as it came through was "what is a day like in the life of a stay at home dad." I am for the most part in my definition a stay at home dad. A job title I honestly never thought I'd hold. One that is both a great blessing and one sometimes I wondered if I'm being punished for something... But either way, I will take you through a day for me. So prepare some other reading material just in case and accept my apologies in advance this goes the way of the Hindenburg....
I as some of you may or may not know am the father of 4 boys. Ages 9, 4, 4, and 7 months... The three oldest start their day far before me. They are usually up at the butt crack of dawn anywhere from 5:30 to 7am.. A fact I promise you they will regret later in life when they can't sleep in. And a fact I come to regret about 1pm that day when they turn into Tasmanian demon spawns of emotion.. Jill is usually up by 5:30 and takes control as referee until I roll out of bed. My alarm goes off at 7:30am and I instantly cringe and want to do this...
After coming to grips with the fact that I do have to get up, and convince myself that the kids would not be alright on their own. I roll out of bed, get dressed, and stumble out of the sanctuary that is our bedroom.. There is a light at the end of the hallway but walking toward this light is like taking Ex-lax and Imodium and seeing what one wins... You don't know what you're going to get.. I guess I could have used the Forrest Gump box of chocolates line, but I like to really paint that mental picture in your head, while keeping it classy. Most days, there is a child either screaming or crying for any given number of reasons. There is the rare occasion where all three of them are quietly sitting on the couch minding their business. But let's be realistic, Halley's Comet comes around more often than that happens. So more days than not, I stumble out into the living room after a short verbal exchange with Jill about who has eaten, who has changed, who went potty, and the most important piece of information.. How is Caleb this morning?? I may receive some judgement for that last statement but don't judge unless you know what it's like. Caleb has ADHD, and is on medication for that. But he doesn't take his meds in the morning until around 7:45-8am. So anything before he takes his meds is a crap shoot. There are mornings he comes down the stairs and you can just see in his eyes he's looking for a fight, and me not being the perkiest of morning people, am usually happy to oblige. And that will set the tone for the morning.. Others he is quiet and reserved and just wants to be left alone. This Caleb is fine, he does what he's told, maybe a little slower than normal but it's a trade off you accept. Then there is Tasmanian Devil on crack Caleb. This Caleb is the toughest for me to deal with. I am as I stated NOT a morning person. And I can picture Caleb laying in his bed, when his eyes shoot open and he just starts to vibrate to the point he flies out of bed. From the time he hits the floor he's going 150 miles per hour, he's running from room to room, talking at just below a full out scream, picking on his brothers to get a reaction, and is just a blur throughout the house. By this time Jill is walking and/or running out the door.
I now go into auto pilot for a few minutes. The baby if everything goes well and the boys don't wake him should be out for another 45 to 60 min. I stop Caleb long enough to go through our morning checklist, backpack put together and lunch put in? Take your pills? Do you have your hat and gloves? Homework folder? If answers yes to all of these I will let him continue on his way. Otherwise, it turns into the job trying to talk to Hammy from Over The Hedge... Once that is settled, I will find out how the twins are, if they're hungry, if they've eaten, etc.. Most times they don't want to eat right away. Like me in that aspect, can't get out of bed and eat immediately. Quick look at the clock shows 8:15am, time to get Caleb out the door to wait for the bus. He after stopping to break ice off the eaves, kick snow, walk through every snowbank, and bang on windows, finally makes it to the end of the drive way. The boys and I take up our usual positions on the couch in the front living room to watch him wait for the bus.. This usually turns into snoring myself back awake, and the boys making these faces looking at me like I was Michael Vick walking into a Petco. Then they proceed to mock my snoring. Bus pulls up, Caleb jumps on and away he goes.. He'll be home around 4pm.
We wander back into the kitchen. I stop them and ask them what they want for breakfast. This daily routine alone has given me the confidence that I could be a pretty good interrogator. Because it usually takes a few minutes of doing everything but sitting them at a table with a bright spot light on their faces to get them to give me a straight answer. Eventually I will list all the possibilities they can have several times and they'll go with the very first thing I said.. Usually pop tarts or chocolate chip waffles... So I make their breakfast, turn some cartoons on Netflix and FINALLY grab a cup of coffee. Glance at the clock 8:45am... I collapse into the recliner and drink my coffee praying for the caffeine to kick in. I get about 10 to 15 minutes on average before I hear babbling coming from the baby monitor...
There is always that brief moment where I hear the baby start talking/babbling that I cringe... Go ahead, I'll give you a few seconds to judge me............................................... Ok, long enough... A baby as those of you who have had them know can be exhausting. There are times where I am physically tired from the slapstick comedy routine I have to put on in times of his being fussy just to keep him from screaming and crying. And when he wakes in the morning there is that moment where you realize you have to get him up, and pray he's calm, happy, and easy all day. That's where the cringe comes from, when he's sleeping peacefully there's no worry as to what mood he'll be in. So I get up and go to the kitchen, grab a baby bowl, a bottle, formula, cereal and get to making his breakfast. Bottle made, cereal made, I pour more coffee, set it all on the table, get his chair out and head to his room. Now, this is the part I usually end up feeling guilty for cringing. I walk through the door and it's like Christmas morning to him every morning. Kind of like a dog really.. Beyond happy to see you and loses control of himself. Arms flailing, legs kicking, smiling, and making his weird grunting noises.
I exchange pleasantries with him, and grab him, carry him over to the changing table. This cannot be done without the obligatory swinging around that causes him to laugh. Onto the table, 95% chance he's wet through to his onesie. Jill is kind enough to get clothes out for him in the morning otherwise he ends up looking like Stevie Wonder dressed him in the dark... Changed, dressed, and off to the kitchen. Into the highchair, bib the size of Texas draped across him. I pull him up and start shoveling spoonfuls of the most horrible looking cereal I've ever seen. The twins are finishing their breakfast and come say morning to Alex. Morning is the easiest meal to feed him. Cereal and a bottle... Sometimes left over food from the night before. He finishes, gets cleaned up and out of the chair. And into the living room and into his bouncy seat. I put on some Baby Einstein-ish program and the three of them are riveted. I head to the kitchen and finally grab some breakfast for me. Glance at the clock, 9:50am.
I manage to get some breakfast, head into the living room where begins the longest stretch of my day. He's not due to eat lunch until 1pm or after. The twins don't eat until 12-12:30pm. This is where I play with Alex, wrestle with the twins, and suffer through children's shows that make me irrationally angry. Calliou for those of you who don't know, is THE WORST cartoon ever created.. If you don't that agree with that claim, I challenge you to watch it for an hour straight.. By the end of that 60 minutes you'll find him to be the most annoying child in the history of children.. He whines incessantly, his voice is just above the level that makes dogs heads explode, and the stories themselves are just plain awful... It makes me want to push my finger through my eye, into my brain, and swirl it around to hopefully forget what had been seen... This time is also met with me finding myself fighting to keep my eyes open. There will be times that all 3 are watching a cartoon and suddenly I'm brought back to consciousness with a slap, poke, or yell in my ear.. It's usually only a few minutes but just enough time to where there has almost been need of professional cleaning of said recliner afterward... Glance at the clock, 11:22 am.
Finally lunch rolls around, twins again need to hear what's on today's menu 3 or 4 times. They make up their mind. I make their food, they're eating and happy. I look at the clock and it's 12:45pm. Alex will sometimes catch a cat nap between breakfast and lunch. If he does it's usually only 20 minutes because the twins are at this stage of being genetically incapable of being quiet for longer than that. So I pick him up, take him to his room and change his diaper. I bring him out to the kitchen and put him in his chair. Jill again is nice enough to take out today's selection of baby food for lunch. So I make a small bottle, cereal, grab his food. I usually play some music during lunch. Music I would be ashamed to be caught listening to if another adult walked in, but am more than happy to belt out for the boys.. But whatever you think it's not 90's Pop music, and it's NOT N'Sync, Backstreet Boys, Oasis, or various dance music... I feed him lunch, give him the rest of his bottle, and tell the boys it's quiet time. During this time they can watch a movie on Netfilx, lay on the couch and play their Leapsters. I take Alex to his room, check his butt, throw his sleep sack on him, and put him in bed. Hit the mobile and close his door.
This for me, is my time. I grab some lunch, do some dishes, empty the dishwasher if needed. Usually make more coffee, make any phone calls that need to be made. Other times it's when I can sit down and hammer out a blog. I get up every 10 minutes or so and check on the boys. But during this time, if they're quiet, I leave them alone.
Baby stirs in his room and I again fight the selfish feeling of wanting to be angry. Glance at the clock and it's 3:58pm... He's slept over 2 hours. I finish up what I'm doing and head into his room.. Again, met with flailing limbs and squeals. That kind of greeting never gets old. It's when they get to Caleb's age and your arrival is met with looks of indifference that it gets old. I get him up, change him and bring him out to the living room. Throw him in his stand up jumper and sit next to him in the chair. Caleb is usually getting home from school about this time and again it's a day to day crap shoot as to what Caleb you're going to get when he walks through the door. Some days he's happy and jokey, others he walks in and immediately unleashes a verbal tirade against the twins, there are days he'll walk in and burst into tears after a bad day or because he doesn't want to be bored at home. During this time if it's needed I will start getting things around for dinner. Or sometimes even make dinner myself. And it's just a waiting game until Jill gets home around 5:20pm.
You know looking back at this post it almost makes my day seem not that hectic. But I have to tell you, that it a lot of times feels like I'm being pulled in 50 different directions throughout the day. There are water/drink needs, fights to break up, randomly crying baby issues, poopy diapers, snack requests, and unforeseen issues that seem to pop up.
It's really not as bad as I may make it out to seem.. There is a certain lack of adult interaction during my days and that sometimes can be tough. Winter weather also have proven to be a tough issue as the boys cannot get outside like they can during the summer. So if you ever see a Facebook status that seems like I'm complaining about spending time with my kids it's probably not as it seems. It's just frustration. Things could definitely be worse and there are a lot of worse things in life than spending time with your kids on a daily basis.
But I hope that gives you a little more of a look at what our days are like around here. They're crazy, loud, busy, and can be tiring. But this is probably part of the reason I stay up until 1am. I can't shut my mind off at night, and come 9pm ALL THE KIDS ARE ASLEEP!! I get to just sit on the couch, watch Parks and Rec or Storm Chasers and talk to Jill. And it's amazing. I love my kids.. But I look forward to and love that time frame from 9pm to 1am... It's time to just unwind, blank out, and just enjoy the quiet that is kids sleeping...
Anyway, thank you for your suggestions.. Keep them coming in please! Subscribe subscribe subscribe!! Use the options on the right hand side of this blog to sign up, or drop me a line, comment, idea, whatever... And do me a favor, if you like this blog, and know other parents who might enjoy it too please pass a link onto your friends, family, whomever you wish. Part of what I'm doing with this blog, book idea, and all involved is to get this out to as many people as possible to see if this venture is worth the time I put into it. If anything I can say it is because I love to write and I appreciate the feedback, comments, ideas, questions, I've received so far. Keep them coming!!!
Until Next Time,
Be Well.....
p.s. You can follow me at the following places by clicking on the name - Twitter @RefRobG
or find me on Facebook at RobGibson15
The suggestion as it came through was "what is a day like in the life of a stay at home dad." I am for the most part in my definition a stay at home dad. A job title I honestly never thought I'd hold. One that is both a great blessing and one sometimes I wondered if I'm being punished for something... But either way, I will take you through a day for me. So prepare some other reading material just in case and accept my apologies in advance this goes the way of the Hindenburg....
I as some of you may or may not know am the father of 4 boys. Ages 9, 4, 4, and 7 months... The three oldest start their day far before me. They are usually up at the butt crack of dawn anywhere from 5:30 to 7am.. A fact I promise you they will regret later in life when they can't sleep in. And a fact I come to regret about 1pm that day when they turn into Tasmanian demon spawns of emotion.. Jill is usually up by 5:30 and takes control as referee until I roll out of bed. My alarm goes off at 7:30am and I instantly cringe and want to do this...
I now go into auto pilot for a few minutes. The baby if everything goes well and the boys don't wake him should be out for another 45 to 60 min. I stop Caleb long enough to go through our morning checklist, backpack put together and lunch put in? Take your pills? Do you have your hat and gloves? Homework folder? If answers yes to all of these I will let him continue on his way. Otherwise, it turns into the job trying to talk to Hammy from Over The Hedge... Once that is settled, I will find out how the twins are, if they're hungry, if they've eaten, etc.. Most times they don't want to eat right away. Like me in that aspect, can't get out of bed and eat immediately. Quick look at the clock shows 8:15am, time to get Caleb out the door to wait for the bus. He after stopping to break ice off the eaves, kick snow, walk through every snowbank, and bang on windows, finally makes it to the end of the drive way. The boys and I take up our usual positions on the couch in the front living room to watch him wait for the bus.. This usually turns into snoring myself back awake, and the boys making these faces looking at me like I was Michael Vick walking into a Petco. Then they proceed to mock my snoring. Bus pulls up, Caleb jumps on and away he goes.. He'll be home around 4pm.
We wander back into the kitchen. I stop them and ask them what they want for breakfast. This daily routine alone has given me the confidence that I could be a pretty good interrogator. Because it usually takes a few minutes of doing everything but sitting them at a table with a bright spot light on their faces to get them to give me a straight answer. Eventually I will list all the possibilities they can have several times and they'll go with the very first thing I said.. Usually pop tarts or chocolate chip waffles... So I make their breakfast, turn some cartoons on Netflix and FINALLY grab a cup of coffee. Glance at the clock 8:45am... I collapse into the recliner and drink my coffee praying for the caffeine to kick in. I get about 10 to 15 minutes on average before I hear babbling coming from the baby monitor...
There is always that brief moment where I hear the baby start talking/babbling that I cringe... Go ahead, I'll give you a few seconds to judge me............................................... Ok, long enough... A baby as those of you who have had them know can be exhausting. There are times where I am physically tired from the slapstick comedy routine I have to put on in times of his being fussy just to keep him from screaming and crying. And when he wakes in the morning there is that moment where you realize you have to get him up, and pray he's calm, happy, and easy all day. That's where the cringe comes from, when he's sleeping peacefully there's no worry as to what mood he'll be in. So I get up and go to the kitchen, grab a baby bowl, a bottle, formula, cereal and get to making his breakfast. Bottle made, cereal made, I pour more coffee, set it all on the table, get his chair out and head to his room. Now, this is the part I usually end up feeling guilty for cringing. I walk through the door and it's like Christmas morning to him every morning. Kind of like a dog really.. Beyond happy to see you and loses control of himself. Arms flailing, legs kicking, smiling, and making his weird grunting noises.
I exchange pleasantries with him, and grab him, carry him over to the changing table. This cannot be done without the obligatory swinging around that causes him to laugh. Onto the table, 95% chance he's wet through to his onesie. Jill is kind enough to get clothes out for him in the morning otherwise he ends up looking like Stevie Wonder dressed him in the dark... Changed, dressed, and off to the kitchen. Into the highchair, bib the size of Texas draped across him. I pull him up and start shoveling spoonfuls of the most horrible looking cereal I've ever seen. The twins are finishing their breakfast and come say morning to Alex. Morning is the easiest meal to feed him. Cereal and a bottle... Sometimes left over food from the night before. He finishes, gets cleaned up and out of the chair. And into the living room and into his bouncy seat. I put on some Baby Einstein-ish program and the three of them are riveted. I head to the kitchen and finally grab some breakfast for me. Glance at the clock, 9:50am.
I manage to get some breakfast, head into the living room where begins the longest stretch of my day. He's not due to eat lunch until 1pm or after. The twins don't eat until 12-12:30pm. This is where I play with Alex, wrestle with the twins, and suffer through children's shows that make me irrationally angry. Calliou for those of you who don't know, is THE WORST cartoon ever created.. If you don't that agree with that claim, I challenge you to watch it for an hour straight.. By the end of that 60 minutes you'll find him to be the most annoying child in the history of children.. He whines incessantly, his voice is just above the level that makes dogs heads explode, and the stories themselves are just plain awful... It makes me want to push my finger through my eye, into my brain, and swirl it around to hopefully forget what had been seen... This time is also met with me finding myself fighting to keep my eyes open. There will be times that all 3 are watching a cartoon and suddenly I'm brought back to consciousness with a slap, poke, or yell in my ear.. It's usually only a few minutes but just enough time to where there has almost been need of professional cleaning of said recliner afterward... Glance at the clock, 11:22 am.
Finally lunch rolls around, twins again need to hear what's on today's menu 3 or 4 times. They make up their mind. I make their food, they're eating and happy. I look at the clock and it's 12:45pm. Alex will sometimes catch a cat nap between breakfast and lunch. If he does it's usually only 20 minutes because the twins are at this stage of being genetically incapable of being quiet for longer than that. So I pick him up, take him to his room and change his diaper. I bring him out to the kitchen and put him in his chair. Jill again is nice enough to take out today's selection of baby food for lunch. So I make a small bottle, cereal, grab his food. I usually play some music during lunch. Music I would be ashamed to be caught listening to if another adult walked in, but am more than happy to belt out for the boys.. But whatever you think it's not 90's Pop music, and it's NOT N'Sync, Backstreet Boys, Oasis, or various dance music... I feed him lunch, give him the rest of his bottle, and tell the boys it's quiet time. During this time they can watch a movie on Netfilx, lay on the couch and play their Leapsters. I take Alex to his room, check his butt, throw his sleep sack on him, and put him in bed. Hit the mobile and close his door.
This for me, is my time. I grab some lunch, do some dishes, empty the dishwasher if needed. Usually make more coffee, make any phone calls that need to be made. Other times it's when I can sit down and hammer out a blog. I get up every 10 minutes or so and check on the boys. But during this time, if they're quiet, I leave them alone.
Baby stirs in his room and I again fight the selfish feeling of wanting to be angry. Glance at the clock and it's 3:58pm... He's slept over 2 hours. I finish up what I'm doing and head into his room.. Again, met with flailing limbs and squeals. That kind of greeting never gets old. It's when they get to Caleb's age and your arrival is met with looks of indifference that it gets old. I get him up, change him and bring him out to the living room. Throw him in his stand up jumper and sit next to him in the chair. Caleb is usually getting home from school about this time and again it's a day to day crap shoot as to what Caleb you're going to get when he walks through the door. Some days he's happy and jokey, others he walks in and immediately unleashes a verbal tirade against the twins, there are days he'll walk in and burst into tears after a bad day or because he doesn't want to be bored at home. During this time if it's needed I will start getting things around for dinner. Or sometimes even make dinner myself. And it's just a waiting game until Jill gets home around 5:20pm.
You know looking back at this post it almost makes my day seem not that hectic. But I have to tell you, that it a lot of times feels like I'm being pulled in 50 different directions throughout the day. There are water/drink needs, fights to break up, randomly crying baby issues, poopy diapers, snack requests, and unforeseen issues that seem to pop up.
It's really not as bad as I may make it out to seem.. There is a certain lack of adult interaction during my days and that sometimes can be tough. Winter weather also have proven to be a tough issue as the boys cannot get outside like they can during the summer. So if you ever see a Facebook status that seems like I'm complaining about spending time with my kids it's probably not as it seems. It's just frustration. Things could definitely be worse and there are a lot of worse things in life than spending time with your kids on a daily basis.
But I hope that gives you a little more of a look at what our days are like around here. They're crazy, loud, busy, and can be tiring. But this is probably part of the reason I stay up until 1am. I can't shut my mind off at night, and come 9pm ALL THE KIDS ARE ASLEEP!! I get to just sit on the couch, watch Parks and Rec or Storm Chasers and talk to Jill. And it's amazing. I love my kids.. But I look forward to and love that time frame from 9pm to 1am... It's time to just unwind, blank out, and just enjoy the quiet that is kids sleeping...
Anyway, thank you for your suggestions.. Keep them coming in please! Subscribe subscribe subscribe!! Use the options on the right hand side of this blog to sign up, or drop me a line, comment, idea, whatever... And do me a favor, if you like this blog, and know other parents who might enjoy it too please pass a link onto your friends, family, whomever you wish. Part of what I'm doing with this blog, book idea, and all involved is to get this out to as many people as possible to see if this venture is worth the time I put into it. If anything I can say it is because I love to write and I appreciate the feedback, comments, ideas, questions, I've received so far. Keep them coming!!!
Until Next Time,
Be Well.....
p.s. You can follow me at the following places by clicking on the name - Twitter @RefRobG
or find me on Facebook at RobGibson15
Monday, February 10, 2014
Kids... Are Gross...
I'm a father of 4 boys.. I love them with all my heart, I would step in front of a bullet for them without hesitation... But let's face it... Kids, are gross...
As I stated, I have 4 boys.. I'm pretty sure that fact alone puts me in a special category of grossness. Not a day goes by that I don't have to raise my voice at one of them for picking their noses. They are perfectly content to sit on the couch with a finger stuffed up their nose. And my worry isn't that it's gross.. Well... Yeah, it is disgusting, and I do let them know that in no uncertain terms. But, I almost sit there in amazement at how far they stick their fingers up their noses.. My fear outside of the fact it's gross, is that they'll go so far up one of these times they'll lobotomize themselves... And they have no shame, they will ram a finger up their nose no matter where we're at and not think twice. And we'll leave what happens when they have success nose mining to your imagination.. Let's just say that maybe Jenny Craig should rethink her weight loss plan to include videos of kids picking their noses and eating it... You won't want to eat for hours I promise you...
I've also learned to NEVER let my kid drink from my bottle of water. If they ask for a drink, I evaluate how much I have left and if it's half or less.. It's their's... Otherwise, you hand them the bottle, they stuff the entire opening of the bottle into their mouths and proceed to drink a swallow and use the rest to rinse out their mouths back into your bottle.. You're left with a bottle that looks like a science experiment gone terribly wrong.. And it's inevitable that it'll happen.. And they always seem to want to drink your water when they're eating Ritz crackers or cookies, something that is guaranteed to end up in the bottom of your bottle.
On the other hand they are almost as good as vacuums... They'll wander through the house, stop on a dime, and almost like they have a radar for nastiness, reach under the recliner and pull out a fruit snack that looks like it may or may not be taking on a life of it's own. It's covered in cat hair, dust bunnies, and dirt.. They'll pick it up like they've found the Holy Grail, look around, and sometimes pull the cat hair off, others just pop it in their mouths and continue playing like it's normal to eat 2 year old fruit snacks that have plinko'd their way through the recliner to the floor underneath... I've watched the twins both scavenge under the kitchen table like disgusting little vultures and eat chicken/sausage/ham/ mystery meat from the night before, as well as cereal that has fallen on the floor. This isn't something that happens at home either. One of the twins one time found a cracker on the floor at church in the commons area, picked it up, and continued on his way happy to have found a snack... Who's to say who had it before, or where it came from.. I know some people will laugh and say "they're just kids being kids, it's not that weird." Think about your spouse for a moment, picture walking through the mall and they see a piece of soft pretzel laying on the floor, they pick it up and continue walking with you happily munching away.. You'd think it was gross and that there was something wrong with them...
Passing gas seems to be a favorite hobby of my boys lately as well. And not just randomly every now and then. They seem to have it on reserve and can call on it anytime they desire... And they're learning to use it in ways to offend people within the house.. They will go out of their way to come to you, turn around and pass gas at you. Or they will sit on your lap and warm it for you.. And they aren't cute little kid farts, these have volume and bass to them. These would scare most animals and I'm pretty sure should not be coming from little kids.. There have been a few times where I have been in another room, heard one of them fart and it's all I can do to not stop what I'm doing and give them a slow clap. Others, I will stick my head in the room where the gastrointestinal thunder came from to make sure they're still upright and ok. Because by the sound of what came from that room they should either be inside out or on the ground unconscious. And they're to the point where it's hilarious to do so. And I could be wrong but Iam pretty sure the twins may or may not communicate using farts.. They've sat in the living room trading farts back and forth 2-3 times in a row and then sit there and laugh themselves into hysterics. They've cleared rooms, they've emitted smells I didn't think were humanly possible, and they don't care where they're at. One of the twins during a dentist appointment felt it necessary to unless his noxious fury on Jill, his brother, and the dental hygienist. Only in the silent but deadly form... They're special boys...
This brings me to this past Saturday. Once again, Caleb had his art class. And once again, I found myself in what can only be described as the seventh circle of hell, but they call it a waiting area.. As I've said in the past, this place is a great place to people watch. I've met an overbearing stage mom, a dad who let's his kids become someone else's problem while he sits at the other end of the room, and countless little kids who have no clue what acceptable social behavior is...
This brings me to the latest kind of parent that I've come across. The sideline parent... This parent was content sitting in a chair parenting over the top of the book she seemed genetically incapable of putting down. I mean, we've all done it to a certain extent right? Been on the phone and the kid is acting up, and you halfheartedly tell them to knock it off, but are more into what's going on with the phone call. I've been there I'll admit. But here is where this example ties in to the opening paragraphs of this entry about grossness.. This lady is sitting in a chair, book 2 inches from her face.. With her is I would guess a 4 year old boy. He's running all over the place coughing and hacking. I'm at my normal table in the leave me alone section of the room. And he comes wandering over and stops at the end of my table, he has in one hand a bag of animal crackers, in the other a Hot Wheel. He's "racing" around at the end of my table, stops, and goes into a 10-15 second coughing spree... He's almost purple in the face he's coughing so hard. My first thought is "poor kid, that sounds like it hurts." Second thought is, "this kid isn't covering his mouth and is coughing at me." So after he finishes and crams a cracker in his mouth he wanders to the next table, and immediately coughs said cookie all over the table and floor... Does he pick it up? No, he simply moves to the other side of the table and continues. More kids show up.. They see this boy and start playing with him. He offers them a cracker in between hacks and coughing fits. One little girl takes a cracker out and gets it just to her mouth and the boys mom yells at the little girl!!! Not like in a mean, angry way. But yells at the girl "Don't eat the cracker HE HAS STREP THROAT!!!" Are you kidding me?? You come here, see that there is another adult (me), a mom and her 3 kids, another father and son in the room, not to mention countless others passing through, and you let this little monster run amok with strep throat?!?!?!? The lady then says "we're not sure if he's still contagious or not but he's still sick and you shouldn't share his crackers." Then get him out of here!! Why if your kid has strep throat would you take him out in public and expose countless others to him? Not just others, other children who don't really know any better and share crackers and play with this kid.. And it's not the kids fault, although walking around coughing on everything is gross. You just sit there behind your book and let him infect other kids and that's ok that he's hacking all over them, but he tries sharing a cracker and you yell at the girl to not share HIS crackers.. How about you corral your diseased little monster and this won't be an issue.
Maybe I'm a germaphobe, but I would never take my kid out of the house if he had strep. Not until I knew he was 100% not contagious. Doing other wise to me is a severe lack of consideration for those around you. Your daughters ballet lesson is more important that the health of other little kids and adults who have to breathe the air your little kid is hacking in? Luckily, I only endured this for about 25 minutes. As soon as Caleb stepped out, we bailed as quickly as possible.
There was another little boy there who I would guess was 9-10 years old. He was making up "Yo Mama Jokes" And sharing them with whomever would listen.. I heard such gems as " Your mama is so stupid, she tried to buy tickets to X-Box Live." And "Your mama is so stupid, she farted in her gas tank trying to fill her car up with gas.." Ok, so maybe I laughed at that one... Yeah, I'm childish., what of it???
Bottom line, kids are disgusting little creatures. For every heart melting aww-moment , there are 3 more episodes of being pee'd on, thrown up on, or having them come up to you all sweetly only to have them press their butt on your leg and fart.. They're messy, they smell bad, they're the sloppiest eaters in the world, and I wouldn't trade them for the world..
Anyway, I'll have another post up hopefully later this week!
Until Then,
Be Well....
As I stated, I have 4 boys.. I'm pretty sure that fact alone puts me in a special category of grossness. Not a day goes by that I don't have to raise my voice at one of them for picking their noses. They are perfectly content to sit on the couch with a finger stuffed up their nose. And my worry isn't that it's gross.. Well... Yeah, it is disgusting, and I do let them know that in no uncertain terms. But, I almost sit there in amazement at how far they stick their fingers up their noses.. My fear outside of the fact it's gross, is that they'll go so far up one of these times they'll lobotomize themselves... And they have no shame, they will ram a finger up their nose no matter where we're at and not think twice. And we'll leave what happens when they have success nose mining to your imagination.. Let's just say that maybe Jenny Craig should rethink her weight loss plan to include videos of kids picking their noses and eating it... You won't want to eat for hours I promise you...
I've also learned to NEVER let my kid drink from my bottle of water. If they ask for a drink, I evaluate how much I have left and if it's half or less.. It's their's... Otherwise, you hand them the bottle, they stuff the entire opening of the bottle into their mouths and proceed to drink a swallow and use the rest to rinse out their mouths back into your bottle.. You're left with a bottle that looks like a science experiment gone terribly wrong.. And it's inevitable that it'll happen.. And they always seem to want to drink your water when they're eating Ritz crackers or cookies, something that is guaranteed to end up in the bottom of your bottle.
On the other hand they are almost as good as vacuums... They'll wander through the house, stop on a dime, and almost like they have a radar for nastiness, reach under the recliner and pull out a fruit snack that looks like it may or may not be taking on a life of it's own. It's covered in cat hair, dust bunnies, and dirt.. They'll pick it up like they've found the Holy Grail, look around, and sometimes pull the cat hair off, others just pop it in their mouths and continue playing like it's normal to eat 2 year old fruit snacks that have plinko'd their way through the recliner to the floor underneath... I've watched the twins both scavenge under the kitchen table like disgusting little vultures and eat chicken/sausage/ham/ mystery meat from the night before, as well as cereal that has fallen on the floor. This isn't something that happens at home either. One of the twins one time found a cracker on the floor at church in the commons area, picked it up, and continued on his way happy to have found a snack... Who's to say who had it before, or where it came from.. I know some people will laugh and say "they're just kids being kids, it's not that weird." Think about your spouse for a moment, picture walking through the mall and they see a piece of soft pretzel laying on the floor, they pick it up and continue walking with you happily munching away.. You'd think it was gross and that there was something wrong with them...
Passing gas seems to be a favorite hobby of my boys lately as well. And not just randomly every now and then. They seem to have it on reserve and can call on it anytime they desire... And they're learning to use it in ways to offend people within the house.. They will go out of their way to come to you, turn around and pass gas at you. Or they will sit on your lap and warm it for you.. And they aren't cute little kid farts, these have volume and bass to them. These would scare most animals and I'm pretty sure should not be coming from little kids.. There have been a few times where I have been in another room, heard one of them fart and it's all I can do to not stop what I'm doing and give them a slow clap. Others, I will stick my head in the room where the gastrointestinal thunder came from to make sure they're still upright and ok. Because by the sound of what came from that room they should either be inside out or on the ground unconscious. And they're to the point where it's hilarious to do so. And I could be wrong but Iam pretty sure the twins may or may not communicate using farts.. They've sat in the living room trading farts back and forth 2-3 times in a row and then sit there and laugh themselves into hysterics. They've cleared rooms, they've emitted smells I didn't think were humanly possible, and they don't care where they're at. One of the twins during a dentist appointment felt it necessary to unless his noxious fury on Jill, his brother, and the dental hygienist. Only in the silent but deadly form... They're special boys...
This brings me to this past Saturday. Once again, Caleb had his art class. And once again, I found myself in what can only be described as the seventh circle of hell, but they call it a waiting area.. As I've said in the past, this place is a great place to people watch. I've met an overbearing stage mom, a dad who let's his kids become someone else's problem while he sits at the other end of the room, and countless little kids who have no clue what acceptable social behavior is...
This brings me to the latest kind of parent that I've come across. The sideline parent... This parent was content sitting in a chair parenting over the top of the book she seemed genetically incapable of putting down. I mean, we've all done it to a certain extent right? Been on the phone and the kid is acting up, and you halfheartedly tell them to knock it off, but are more into what's going on with the phone call. I've been there I'll admit. But here is where this example ties in to the opening paragraphs of this entry about grossness.. This lady is sitting in a chair, book 2 inches from her face.. With her is I would guess a 4 year old boy. He's running all over the place coughing and hacking. I'm at my normal table in the leave me alone section of the room. And he comes wandering over and stops at the end of my table, he has in one hand a bag of animal crackers, in the other a Hot Wheel. He's "racing" around at the end of my table, stops, and goes into a 10-15 second coughing spree... He's almost purple in the face he's coughing so hard. My first thought is "poor kid, that sounds like it hurts." Second thought is, "this kid isn't covering his mouth and is coughing at me." So after he finishes and crams a cracker in his mouth he wanders to the next table, and immediately coughs said cookie all over the table and floor... Does he pick it up? No, he simply moves to the other side of the table and continues. More kids show up.. They see this boy and start playing with him. He offers them a cracker in between hacks and coughing fits. One little girl takes a cracker out and gets it just to her mouth and the boys mom yells at the little girl!!! Not like in a mean, angry way. But yells at the girl "Don't eat the cracker HE HAS STREP THROAT!!!" Are you kidding me?? You come here, see that there is another adult (me), a mom and her 3 kids, another father and son in the room, not to mention countless others passing through, and you let this little monster run amok with strep throat?!?!?!? The lady then says "we're not sure if he's still contagious or not but he's still sick and you shouldn't share his crackers." Then get him out of here!! Why if your kid has strep throat would you take him out in public and expose countless others to him? Not just others, other children who don't really know any better and share crackers and play with this kid.. And it's not the kids fault, although walking around coughing on everything is gross. You just sit there behind your book and let him infect other kids and that's ok that he's hacking all over them, but he tries sharing a cracker and you yell at the girl to not share HIS crackers.. How about you corral your diseased little monster and this won't be an issue.
Maybe I'm a germaphobe, but I would never take my kid out of the house if he had strep. Not until I knew he was 100% not contagious. Doing other wise to me is a severe lack of consideration for those around you. Your daughters ballet lesson is more important that the health of other little kids and adults who have to breathe the air your little kid is hacking in? Luckily, I only endured this for about 25 minutes. As soon as Caleb stepped out, we bailed as quickly as possible.
There was another little boy there who I would guess was 9-10 years old. He was making up "Yo Mama Jokes" And sharing them with whomever would listen.. I heard such gems as " Your mama is so stupid, she tried to buy tickets to X-Box Live." And "Your mama is so stupid, she farted in her gas tank trying to fill her car up with gas.." Ok, so maybe I laughed at that one... Yeah, I'm childish., what of it???
Bottom line, kids are disgusting little creatures. For every heart melting aww-moment , there are 3 more episodes of being pee'd on, thrown up on, or having them come up to you all sweetly only to have them press their butt on your leg and fart.. They're messy, they smell bad, they're the sloppiest eaters in the world, and I wouldn't trade them for the world..
Anyway, I'll have another post up hopefully later this week!
Until Then,
Be Well....
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