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...

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...

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

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....

An Inside Look From A Blind Referee

It's time to stray away from the topic of my kids for a minute.  I pray you keep reading anyway.  I've decided to touch on a topic that has been a part of my life for 12 years now.  Professional Wrestling.   

I'll give you my background in wrestling and then proceed into the rest of the blog...  I started attending shows in 2002 after meeting a promoter in my work place as he shopped for a digital camera.  I started attending his promotions shows regularly, got to know him and some of the guys, helped with ring tear down after shows, basically anything to be around the show.   I then purchased a video camera and started traveling to these shows and recording them for the promoter, taking them home, copying them to VHS and giving him the footage.  This progressed into me making airport runs to pick up WWF/WCW legends as they would come in to work shows for the promotion.  Then in September of 2003 I bought my first Referee shirt and pants, brought them with me to Waldron, Michigan and worked my first show as a Referee.  My very first match was a 6 man Tag and man was I lost....  I had not learned all the tricks of the trade and at one point legitimately shoved a wrestler down into the corner as I tried to keep him out of the ring.  Anyway,  here we are in early 2014 and I have been slowed down by a back injury from Refereeing.  I never did it as a full time job, but at the peak of my run I was working 2-3 weekends a month.  Traveling to places in Southern Michigan, to places like Bay City, Grand Rapids, to places like Alexandria, Greenfield, Columbus, and Fort Wayne in Indiana to Toledo, Lima, and Holiday City in Ohio.  

Getting to work with guys I grew up watching on television.  Guys like:  The Rock and Roll Express, The Steiner Brothers, Buff Bagwell, Kamala, Koko B. Ware, The Barbarian, Warlord, Nikolai Volkoff, The Iron Sheik, Greg The Hammer Valentine, Honky Tonk Man, Jimmy Hart, Abyss, Demolition Ax, Hacksaw Jim Duggan, and many many more.  

Being a Referee is to me a lot of fun.  I was probably a weird kid as I grew up watching wrestling.  I would always watch what the Referee was doing during the match.  Seeing how animated they were, or how they handled the sometimes much bigger wrestlers, and occasionally watching them get beat up.   I loved watching a Referee named Tommy Young, who worked for the old NWA in the 80's.  He was very animated in the ring, he would often react to moves performed by the wrestlers in the ring.  He wasn't afraid of the wrestlers and would often engage in shoving matches with guys like Ric Flair.   He was an important part of the match, his counts and body language in the ring elicited responses from the crowd on a near pin.  It was great.  Mike Chioda in the WWE is another I really enjoy watching work.  He is kind of a modern day Tommy Young, although I don't think there will ever be another Referee as good as Tommy Young was..

When I tell people I work in professional wrestling or when someone asks if I do, the first thing they do is wrinkle up their noses like they stepped in something and say something brilliant like "You know wrestling is so fake don't you?!?!?"    Then they sit there with this look of great anticipation, like a kid on Christmas morning who can hardly stand the wait to open a gift..  They're waiting like my whole world to come crashing down, like they've just opened my eyes to reality.  When in fact the first thing I want to do is reach out and slap them a few times.  I am fully aware wrestling is predetermined.  I won't go as far as to say it's 100% fake...  There are a few things in wrestling you can't fake...  Gravity..... And, chair shots...  I've been on the business end of more than a few chair shots in my time in wrestling.  And the next day when your back is stiff and and bruised, you can't help but think they might be kinda real...  And I've been slammed and thrown enough to know that the falls are real.  You can learn how to fall properly, but that doesn't mean it's painless.

Here is a pic of the aftermath of a Barbed Wire Texas Death Match where the ropes are wrapped in Barbed Wire..  This took place in Pittsford, Michigan in 2005.

  I'm not exposing anything that anyone with the I.Q. of a sponge doesn't already know.  Vince McMahon has exposed this business and all it's inner workings more than any internet dirt sheet or fan could.  He has been both the best and worst thing to ever happen to wrestling.  He is a marketing genius, he took the WWE and went from regional promotion to global empire, made it a billion dollar industry.  But in the process decimated all the territories and promotions that used to dot the maps from coast to coast, from the north to the south and everywhere in between.  He took over those territories, crushed the promotions by buying off their top talent and making the WWE a who's who of professional wrestling then going back to those territories where he got the talent and running shows, in the process killing the territories promotion and claiming the land for WWE.    Little by little he expanded his "territory" until the entire U.S. was his to run anytime, anywhere.  

That being said here is what a show day looks like as a Referee.  If the bell time is 7pm I will usually try to get to the venue about 3:30-4pm.  That way you are sure to get there on time if you get lost, you can get settled in, get something to eat, then relax and chat with the wrestlers/promoter as they start to filter in...  Usually about 5:30 or so you'll have a good idea of who is going to be there and what wrestlers are not going to show up and a card is made and posted in the locker room..   Depending on how many Referee's there are (usually 2, sometimes more) one of us will write the card down in a notebook, then we'll divvy out the matches among us.  I try to do them by strong suit if I know who I'm working with.  Like I personally don't do well in Tag matches so I will work mostly singles matches or specialty matches.    Then once the card has been divided up between us. I will go to the wrestlers involved in my first match and introduce myself if we haven't worked together and tell them I'll be with them in the ring tonight and ask what their finish is going to be.  They'll give me what the finish is going to be and I'll ask if there are any other spots or things I need to be aware of and they'll fill me in.   You try to space your matches out so that  you have time between matches to get with your next match to find out the finish and any info you might need.  Working back to back matches is difficult because you're already out in the ring and you don't know the finish of the next match.   So as you're "checking" the wrestlers in the corner pre-match I will ask the wrestler who is going to win for the finish and info.  It's a little more hectic that way but it's doable.   So, after I get the info on my first match it's usually time to start getting changed and ready for the show.  The promoter will give you special instructions during the show if you're needed to run in and pull wrestlers apart during a fight, or if you need to help someone out of the ring.  Then usually it's bell time...  There is a lot to remember sometimes.  Sometimes more than I think Referee's are given credit for.  We have to learn which wrestler to follow in the ring to make it look like we don't see the bad guy cheating, we have to turn a blind eye to things that are blatantly going on behind our back, and despite the fact the crowd is screaming at you, you have to play dumb, which in turn infuriates the crowd.  

I've had things thrown at me, been called every name in the book..  Even had a little boy who was probably 6 or so give me the finger one time. I've had my Referee shirt stolen by a fan after it was removed during a beating.  Fans can be ruthless..  But it's also an amazing feeling getting to be a part of something that makes people happy, makes them forget their problems, and sometimes the Referee gets to be involved in the match and gets what's called a "Ref Spot" whether it's shoving down a wrestler who shoves you, or body slamming a wrestler after getting caught up in the action,  I've gotten into slapping exchanges with wrestlers, had pies smashed in my face.  And hearing that crowd react to something you've done is second to none..  I can't imagine how it must feel to the wrestler who does it regularly.  I've heard the collective groan of a crowd as I've taken a chair shot, and I've heard them cheer as I body slammed a wrestler.  It's an amazing feeling.  

But one of the best things honestly is the guys in the locker room.  I've met some good people doing this.  I've met some who weren't good people but like any job, you work with them and maintain a professional attitude.  

I recently read an article titled Top 10 Rules For A Pro Wrestling Referee and it was pretty accurate.  I will share it paraphrased with you.

1. The Referee will never disqualify a wrestler for not breaking a hold on the count of 5 unless it's part of the finish or the wrestler plans on maintaining the hold for 5 minutes to establish himself as a psycho.

2. Unlike any other sport where the Referee's look like they could be replaced by anybody.  In Pro Wrestling you can be.  Whether is an old wrestler making an appearance, a celebrity, or another Referee coming into the ring to make the 3 count as you lay knocked out.

3. During a hotly contested match the Referee will draw out the 3 count in painstaking fashion to add suspense to the matches finish.   Unless it's a quick roll up finish then the Referee will count as if the building is on fire and needs to be evacuated.

4. Regardless of the severity of impact "accidentally" being hit in the ring will send a Referee sprawling to the floor or mat and render them unconscious long enough for a wrestler to pull something underhanded..

5. Related to #4, when a Referee takes a fall he will land in such a way that his vision or view of the match is obscured... And when he "comes to" he will not get up and look around, instead he will either look straight ahead or down at the mat.  Giving the bad guy extra time to do what he needs.

6. Every time a submission hold is applied a Referee will lean in with an intense focus that suggests that this might be the first time in wrestling history someone will submit to said move.

7. While the Ref is in a heated discussion with a Tag Team member outside the ring, in a corner, etc...   The legal wrestler can be stomped by the Bloods, The Crips, pepper sprayed, exposed to caustic chemicals, beaten by grandma's in the front row and left for dead..  What could possibly be discussed for this length of time is a mystery better left untouched.

8. When wrestlers are fighting outside the ring and the Ref begins the count of 10, an epoch of human history will often pass before he completes the count in an important match.  Wrestlers will do Moonsaults through tables, go to the dressing room to get their buddies' impression of the move, hold a press conference detailing the media's exaggerated impressions of steroids in wrestling, go grab a hot dog from the concession stand, then return to the ring...  The Referee will have just counted 4....

9.  The Ref will invariably fail to see that the bad guy has his legs stretched to the ring rope for added leverage, no matter how many times it happens the Referee will never see it..  Never once looking at video footage after and will continue to never catch the bad guy night after night allowing the heel to cheat for eternity.

10. If the Referee is an any way big or athletic, he will most likely make a biased call in a match and find himself either on the end of a beating or in the classic "bad guy referee" storyline..

The life of a Referee is thankless, we're verbally abused, physically abused, taunted by fans, targets for object thrown, naturally hated, and I love it....

Thank you for allowing me to steer off course a little and talk about something that is near and dear to me.  My kids are as well, but sometimes it's nice to just step back, write about something else, then find my way back to the other topics next time..  

I'll have another post ready to go by the end of the weekend or early Monday....

Until Then,

Be Well....

Double The Laughs, Double The Grins, Double The Trouble, If You're Blessed With Twins....

Josh Billings once said "There are two things in life for which we are never truly prepared: TWINS...."    I should get that put on a t-shirt...   As you may have guessed, this entry is going to cover my identical twin boys Josh and Jonah..  For those of you who are first timers, I have 4 boys.  A 9 yr old named Caleb, identical twin 4 yr olds named Joshua and Jonah, and a 7 month old named Alex.  Here is a pic of Josh and Jonah..

I'll start at the beginning...  The night we found out we were having twins..  The pregnancy was going fine or at least to me it was..  I think we were in about month 3-4 of the pregnancy (if I'm wrong I'll post a correction) and we had listened to the heart beat of what we were assured was only ONE baby.  Now, to talk to Jill she says she had a feeling all along that they were going to be twins.  But the doctor said he only heard one heart beat.  Granted, he kept finding it in different places but he just assumed we had an active baby..  Well, Jill starts having some complications and we go into the ER to make sure she and baby are ok.  The doctor orders an ultra sound to make sure baby is ok..   No big deal right...   We get into the room, she lays down on the table and the lady doing the ultra sound walks in and preps Jill.  She puts the goo all over her belly and waves the wand across and I thought momentarily I saw two heads, but just assumed it was the way it displayed on the screen..  Here's exactly how the next 15 seconds went.....

Nurse: This is your first ultra sound correct?

Us:  Yes it is....

Nurse: And you know that they are twins correct?

Me: WHAT?!?!?!

From this point on it's hazy.  I may not have that conversation verbatim but after receiving news that the baby you thought was only was was in fact now TWO, you tend to go into a little bit of shock...   At this point I'm literally speechless, not like over come with joy can't talk through the tears speechless..  More like grab this stuttering, stammering, guy a bib and helmet speechless..   I got very lightheaded and the nurse had to physically help me to sit down or else they'd have needed to find a way to get a fork lift into that room to get me off the floor.  So I'm now sitting in a chair babbling like Rain Man, pretty sure I was rocking back and forth going "there should only be one, definitely only one, doctor said there was only one, uh oh there's two, but there should only be one and now there's two, definitely two, definitely definitely two."   When you're not expecting that kind of news, the way you handle it is as pure of a reaction as anyone could ever have.  I remember telling the lady there should only be one and that maybe it's not really two babies but one big super baby...   I remember standing back up and walking back to her bedside and watching the rest of the ultra sound... One head.. Two heads... Two sets of hands and feet..  Two ____..... Well, we found out they were boys, you fill in the blank..  My mind was officially blown.  Right then I sent a text to my cousin who worked in the hospital to come down and witness this because nobody was going to believe me when I told them.   So he comes in and laughs immediately but offers congratulations or condolences, I don't remember.  So we find out mamma and babies are all ok and we get moved to a room to wait for the doctor.  While we're sitting there, I get the idea to call people and tell them the news, and hopefully have some company in the S.S. Mindblown that I'm currently sailing toward Insanity Island on..   We call my parents, I tell my mom who doesn't believe me, no matter how many times I tell her, no matter how many times I say Dan (my cousin) was there to witness, to her this is a practical joke (she will continue disbelief up to about a week later when Dan stood in front of her physically and told her he was there.)  But she laughs and has me tell my dad who chuckles but doesn't really say much.  So we call my Grandparents... My Grandma laughs and says that we'll have our hands full, she tells my Grandpa who I hear laughing his butt off  in the background.  I'm starting to sense a pattern, we tell people we're having twins and the first thing they do is laugh...

Anyway, we go through the rest of the pregnancy without a hitch.  The babies are born 11-24-09, Joshua came first, Jonah comes out butt first 6 minutes later.  Up until the point you first see that you have 2 babies, you can't truly appreciate what is happening.  You can say "yeah, I'm having twins" but those are just words.  When you physically see two babies laying there... You want to run.. Run as far and as fast as you can...  I'm kidding of course...  There are no words to describe seeing two babies..  I cried when Caleb was born. I also cried with the twins, but it was a mixed bag of emotions cry.  Happy they're ok, happy they're here, HOLY CRAP THERE ARE TWO OF THEM!!!!   *Funny side note, throughout the delivery in the O.R. Jill thought she was hanging onto and squeezing the crap out of my hand/arm..  Nope, it was the anesthesiologist's arm and hand... But he was a trooper and probably needed medical attention afterward.*

The first night home was a nightmare.. They wouldn't sleep, they were fussy.  Jill had one of the boys on the couch with her, I had the other with me in the chair.  The one I had slept for about 90 minutes at one point, so did I.  Jill, was not so lucky.  The first 6 weeks were rough.  We worked in shifts of 3 to 4 hours.  She would go sleep for 3 or 4 hours while I stayed up, fed them, changed them, whatever they needed.  Then I would go in, wake her, and we'd switch.  Once in awhile one of us would give the other an extra hour or so if things were going smoothly.  Luckily by 11 weeks old they started sleeping through the night... Which was amazing...    People seem to ask me "what's it like having 2 babies?"   Well, it's a lot like you'd imagine it would be.  It's hectic, it's incredibly busy, it's frustrating, it's tiring, there are two mouths to feed, two butts to change, two babies to dress, but we worked very well together on it and it was also pretty fun at times.  It could have been 100 times worse but working together and maintaining a team really helped in easing the adjustment to the twins.  

And as they've grown older it's also twice as rewarding.  You get to see two sets of first steps, see them feed themselves, see them recognize one another and interact.  I get people who have asked me if they're competitive with one another or if one was dominate  over the other in doing things first..  I don't remember honestly..  When one walked for the first time we just ridiculed the other one and shamed him into walking whether he wanted to or not...  "Ohhh look what Josh is doing!!!  We love him best because you aren't walking yet JONAH!!"   "I guess if you want to eat Jonah, you'll learn to walk over here to where the food is...If you go hungry you have no one to blame but yourself..."    That's the kind of parents we are, motivators....     But honestly, they both were relatively close in all firsts, I don't remember who did what first or when.  All I know is when they started walking all thought of sitting and relaxing was over.  Twins have this remarkable ability to enter a building and immediately go in separate directions.  Kind of like when you put two magnets together and they want to shoot apart in opposite directions...   And they haven't slowed down since...

Grocery shopping was a real treat after they were born.  We'd have them in carts and people would without fail gravitate to the carts to touch, poke, prod, and coo at the babies..  I maintain that babies have the ability to make an adults I.Q. drop to levels of being borderline mentally challenged...   But then the questions would start...  You'd get the normal questions like 

"Are they boys or girls?"  Fair enough, they're boys..

"Are they twins?"  Nope, we had the one, and found the other on the way home on the side of the road... But how lucky are we that they match!!!   Moron, of course they're twins, why else would we have TWO babies?

"Are they Identical or Fraternal?"  For some reason, people want to classify twins into two categories: identical and NOT identical... Most people know that there are two types of twins, yet, I would be willing to wager most have no idea what that actually means.

"Do twins run in your families?"   This one to me is a question that kinda makes me wanna throttle the person asking just a little. It's a small talk question. You don't really care, whether or not you sleep tonight isn't hinging on the answer to this question, so why ask?   Generally though, I've found that the person asking generally doesn't care about the answer you give them, but takes it as a green light to enlighten you to their family history of twins.. Like that makes us "twin buddies."   To answer, identical twins are NOT hereditary, we just got lucky.

"Which one is the good twin?"  You're an idiot....  That is the only acceptable response to this question.

"How come their names don't match?  I have been asked this..  Like we're supposed to name them Gary and Barry, Ned and Ted, Eric and Derek....  They're names do match in that their initials are J.R.G. but that's as close as it gets...  They are twins yes, they do look a like yes, but they are individuals.  Their road is going to be tougher than most due to the fact they look a like, why burden them with rhyming names?

"Do they have their own language?"  No, they're still mastering English at this point..

"Do you dress them alike?  No, we love our kids...   I am amazed at how many people are genuinely disappointed when they hear we have never dressed them alike...  Personally, I think it's stupid to do that.  Have I ever done it?  Yes, with pajamas only.  And only to confuse two of my friends who were hanging out here..  Outside of that I feel it's cliche and over done.  

"How do you tell them apart?"   I look at them....  Other times I just call out a name and hope they're honest...

If that isn't bad enough then you get the statements from people..  98 % of the time they are unwarranted and unnecessary but people still feel the need to pitch in their two cents..  Here are a few that I can remember off hand that I've heard personally..

"I could never do that"  Really? What would you do in my situation?  Put a sign around one of their necks that say "Free to a good home." and put them on the side of the road?

"Do they have different personalities?"  No, they are the same human being just divided in two... Of course they do, they look alike, they aren't actually the same person...

"Just wait until they're older, it'll only get harder.."   *throat punch*

There I'm sure have been others but those are the main ones, and any parent out there who has twins either identical or fraternal can show their laminated card you get after enduring these questions for an extended period of time..  It's an exclusive club..  

They're 4 years old now..  They're little monsters both literally and physically.  Whereas Caleb was tall and very very skinny with bird legs.  The twins are freakishly muscular and live life at 150 mph..  They have hurt me physically many times, you just can't show weakness around them or it's over for you.  We had a friend make the observation that from the waist up they're built like upside down triangles.  And he is right, these guys are solid from the ground up, I don't recall seeing shoulders on kids like these guys, and I fear the day they put it all together and realize they're beasts..  

But on the flip side they are two of the most sensitive boys I've ever met.  Oldest brother can be when he wants to.  These two are very compassionate.  Jonah will see a boy crying in class at church and will cry with him.  They are both quick to dole out unwarranted hugs and I love you's.   They both like to sit with you.  Josh has this unbridled joy for everything little in life...  Where kids get excited for toys, trips, or going to grandma's..  Josh gets so excited watching Jill unpack groceries and seeing what all she has brought home, or for new socks, and last night Jill took him to Subway for dinner and he kept saying "it's so nice to eat in here."  He has a great enthusiasm for life and all it holds, I pray he never loses that..  Josh also has what looks like Caleb's artistic ability.  Jonah, lives life at one speed 150 mph, he is sharp as a tack, he memorizes dialogue in movies and The Wiggles and recites them with the movie.  He has memorized most of the Wiggles dances and will do them when the songs come on.  He is very affectionate and seems to be drawn to those who are sad or upset as stated earlier.  Jill and I have argued before in the car and from the back of the van we hear "come on guys, don't fight please."  He just wants everyone to get a long.  

Don't get me wrong they are boys 100%   Oldest brother Caleb doesn't stand a chance when the boys combine their efforts and start beating on him.  I've walked into beatings that would make what happened to Rodney King look like a tickle fight...  I've watched Jonah curb stomp Caleb's head into the floor and leave Caleb dazed,  I've walked in just in time to see Josh kick Caleb in the face and Jonah kick Caleb in the ribs as Caleb laid on the ground.  It has not gone unpunished, so don't judge me..  I only let it go until there is blood or unconsciousness....    What is scary is that Josh has shown some interest in professional wrestling...  He's sat with me and watch Hulk Hogan's matches and can pick Hulk Hogan out in commercials, shows, or matches...  And they love watching DVD's that I am on from show's I've done that were recorded for DVD or TV.

It's been a real trip watching these two grow up so far.  I wouldn't trade them for the world.  Josh looks most like me out of my 4 boys.  They are identical but to us they are easy to tell apart.  Josh has a more slender face and ears that stick out, he has a notch on his ear.  Jonah has a fuller face and an eye that at one point was half brown, half blue.. Now it's just lighter on the bottom.  Don't get me wrong there are times I go through the parental Rolodex of names when I'm trying to get their attention or if one of them has done something wrong..    And when they get their summer hair buzz I mistake them for the other.  So it does happen.  But 9 times out of 10 I can get them first try.  

I shudder for the day they hit their teens and hit big growth spurts.  At their 2 yr they were both 3'2" to 3'3" which by estimation would put them at about 6'4" to 6'6"...  And Jill does have that kinda height in her family.  She has a cousin who is 6'9" and her dad is 6'3", we're both about 6' so they have height on their side.  And brother can they eat already..  Jonah last night had 2 servings of broccoli and 16 fish sticks...  Last week in one sitting Jonah had 5 hot dogs (only 1 with a bun).  I've watched him put away 11 sausage links in a sitting, while also eating 3 pancakes.  Josh has eaten 15+ chicken nuggets in a sitting, 2-3 pieces of pizza and crazy bread.  They both can out eat Caleb with no problem.  I have a feeling they are going to be monsters..  

Well, hopefully this novel-ish entry has given you a little bit of an idea of what it's like to find out you're having twins, what it's like having them, what kinds of things you deal with having them, both from the twins themselves, and from strangers..   And overall that it's not so bad to have twins.  They love each other, they are each others best friend (for now), they are never lonely, the always have someone to play with, and they are an incredible source of entertainment....

Again, thank you all for the comments, suggestions, and questions.  Feel free to keep them coming by using the options on the right hand side of the page. Share my blog with your family and friends, I don't mind at all if you shoot them the link to the blog, or suggest to someone to stop by and check it out.  

Until Next Time,

Be Well....

Now for a gratuitous shot of all my boys!!  *Note Jonah's serial killer look.. It's breathtaking...*

Stitches, Solid Gold Dancing Siblings, And My Life...

Hey all!  I want to start again by thanking you guys for your responses to the blog.  Traffic on this blog has been amazing and suggestions have been coming in on topics to cover.  I've also received some constructive criticism from a few people as well.  They have been since blocked as I only accept ego boosting comments and suggestions..   I'm kidding of course, I accept any and all kinds of suggestions and comments.  One that I got suggested I not talk about my kids so much.  I will work on that, but frankly, I write about whatever gives me the motivation or material to write on.  And right now, my kids are gold mines of material.  And it's also good because this can be printed out, saved, and used for blackmail purposes later on down the road...

All that being said, let's dive into this blog entry...

Growing up.. Who I am today.. Misconceptions about me.. All of this will be covered today.  I had a suggestion to speak on what it was like growing up and my childhood.  It's not really as self serving as it sounds.  This suggestion came in fact from my sister.  She and I have had a very unique relationship and we'll talk a little about that here.   

I am the youngest...  I was born in 1977 (quit laughing),  my sister was born in 1974 (ok to laugh),  and as most older siblings do I was on the losing end of some beatings as a little kid.  Now before she jumps in to defend herself I'll give you some examples of what I'm pretty sure were several attempts to kill me...  I was little and as any little kid does, I liked to be swung around and rough house.  My sister seeing this takes the opportunity to play "air plane" with me.  That is a game where you grab one leg, and one arm and twirl with said person as they "fly"....   Now, I only remember bits and pieces of this story as the head injury and trauma have most likely forced me to block this from vivid memory... As I'm told, she grabs an arm and a leg, begins to twirl around, (in the living room mind you, not outside where this probably should have been done.)  I'm sure I'm laughing and giggling innocently as she speeds up, until the coffee table lovingly stops my flight immediately...   Did I mention that it was my face that hit the coffee table??  More specifically my mouth??   I don't remember that happening as I was probably concussed, bloody, and screaming my head off...  I ended up biting a chunk of my bottom lip out and to this day have a divot where there was once part of my lip..  I don't think I got stitches for that deal but I am left with the reminder of her first attempt on my life...

Second attempt-  I as any young child loved riding my bike outside.  I had a blue tricycle with red pedals and red handle grips that I LOVED..  I would race around the basement, doing laps around the pool table pretending to be Richard Petty (I think I literally heard a collective "WHO?" just now.).   Anyway, it was summer and I had my bike out in our drive way riding around, minding my business, not hurting anyone.  When I hear "Hey, do you wanna go really fast???"    Do I wanna go fast??  Heck yes I wanna go fast, do you really need to ask??   So, I should have seen the red flags waving wildly on this offer to go fast when I see she's positioned at the top of a rather steep hill we used for sledding in the winters..   So I ride over to her and she says "I'm gonna push you down this hill and you're gonna fly!"   Me being 3-4 years old am beyond excited.  So I willingly (or stupidly) roll to the edge of the hill, she steps behind me and with a one....two....three..... she shoves me down this steep hill and she was right, I was screaming down this hill, both literally and vocally..  About half way down my front tire turns completely sideways, my right foot goes into the front wheel and gets tangled in the spokes, and for the rest of the way down the hill it's a blur of me and the bike tumbling until we reach the bottom.   I honestly thought I was dead as I lay there in the yard..  My foot still in the spokes, the bike on top of me.. I look up to the top of the hill to my sister and all I see is her back as she runs away and disappears...   I manage to get my foot out of the spokes, and literally crawl up the hill on hands and knees, the whole time thinking that I was going to die...  I couldn't walk, so I crawl all the way to the house, crying, and my mom finally comes out and grabs me.  I don't remember how bad my foot was, or if Nick got in any trouble for doing that.  But that was attempt number 2 on my life.

There was a time where she had a friend over.  And as any little brother or sibling would do, I followed them around because I had nothing better to do.  I'm met with a kick to the stomach for doing so.  I remember my mom carrying me around the kitchen making dinner as I sobbed, not understanding why she'd do that.

My sister was ahead of her time...  Where as my niece (her daughter) takes selfies as often as she breathes, my sister used to take selfies with....(wait for it)..... A Polaroid....   She also had the aspirations of being a Solid Gold Dancer (I know I'm dating myself but Google it if you want to know what it is) and could be found practicing for said career in the basement to Tiffany or Debbie Gibson..   Needless to say that career got about as far off the ground as Tiffany's or Debbie Gibson's...   She was also a cheerleader..  And not just during football or basketball season...  365 days a year!!!    Be Aggressive, B-E Aggressive, B-E A-G-G-R-E-S-S-I-V-E.... I am still haunted by those cheers to this day...  I wake up from nightmare's reciting them.  I know what a Herkie and a Russian are.. And was asked if I could do them frequently, and most likely did so...  There were nights upon nights of going to home games, sleeping in the back of the van waiting for her to return from away games...  She is getting a reminder of that lifestyle as my niece is now a cheerleader who is following in her footsteps.   This is one aspect in which I am glad I have all boys.  

Then a glorious thing happened that changed the landscape for my relationship with my sister.  I started watching wrestling, I started fighting back, and I was growing up.  The tide turned and soon she was being body slammed and receiving high knees to the back.   She was Rowdy Roddy Piper to my Hulk Hogan...  And I would be lying if I said I didn't enjoy practicing what I watched on TV on her.  Don't try this at home.... Please...  You might as well have said "Rob, this is how you perform this move... Now go find your sister and try it out."  

That's not to say she wouldn't fight back.  I have a scar on my hand from her pressing a curling iron onto it like she was trying to work a confession out of me.  I have a scar on my elbow from a wound I'm sure could have took a stitch or two from a hairbrush that was thrown at me.  And let's visit the time after we moved into the house we'd eventually move out of as adults...  I had to have been 14-15 and she 17-18...  Something happened, not sure what started it  honestly...  Next thing I know she's chasing me through the house with a Phillips Screwdriver..  Chases me up the stairs, I get into my bed room, and put my back up against the door laughing at her and talking mass amounts of trash when CRACK...  The screwdriver appears through the door above my shoulder by about 6 inches.  I spin around and put my hands on the door (probably not the smartest of moves)  and CRACK the screwdriver comes through the middle of the door....  Had I remained where I was she'd have shanked me like we were in prison.  There are holes in that door to this day from that incident.  Probably one of the scarier fights we had.  And that was the 3rd and final attempt on my life.  Needless to say she moved out, I moved out, and things have been brawl free since.

There have been a lot of misconceptions about me growing up and even today.  A lot of people think I'm quiet.  And I am, if I don't know you, am uncomfortable, or just don't have anything to say.  I'm not big on small talk.  Don't mistake that for being mean, far from it.  If I know you and we small talk that's cool.  If I'm somewhere out in public and Joe Blow engages me about the weather or the 1 Direction concert he went to.  I'm most likely going to nod politely and move on or act like I'm doing something.  I just get very uncomfortable in a conversation that has been struck up merely because there was nothing else to do...  I'm good with silence and don't need to fill every vocal void with tidbits about weather, music, life...   That may sound anti-social, and it very well might be, but it's who I am. 

When you get to know me, I talk a lot for the most part.  In high school I had the reputation for looking mean but then someone would get to know me and make a comment like "I thought you were this mean, quiet person, but you're actually not like that at all."   I still get that from time to time and that's ok, I'm appreciative of those who have taken the time to get to know me.

I'm a pretty fun person I think.  I may be overly sarcastic at times.  I do cry from time to time.  My kids can get me pretty emotional with little to no effort.  I don't like scary movies.  I don't like gory movies.  I don't like watching arms or legs break.  I don't like the sound of forks scratching on plates.  I don't like watching animals suffer.  I won't watch a movie where I know an animal dies even if it's not real.  I don't like seeing kids in pain.  I hate cancer with a burning passion.  I was a huge jerk in high school.  I was more worried about sports and social status than academics.  I had friends from all social circles and picked on everyone equally..  I have since apologized to some of the people I used to make life miserable for.  I have apologized to friends from High School in case I ever did anything to hurt our friendship or their feelings.  I am a huge Three Stooges fan.  I love baseball and the Detroit Tigers.  I was a decent ball player in high school and was recruited by 8-9 schools.  I still have some of the letters somewhere packed away.  I turned down a scholarship to play at Adrian College because it was both too expensive even with the scholarship and my grades would've placed me immediately under academic probation.  

Life is funny how it works out when you stop and think about it.  Had I received even slightly better grades.  I would've accepted said scholarship, went to Adrian, played baseball for 4 years, then who knows what.  I would never had stayed local, went to L.C.C. and Great Lakes Christian College, started hanging out with my best friend who remains my best friend 20 years later, met Jill, had 4 boys, and end up where I am today. I would lie if I didn't wonder "what if".  But I also know that my life wouldn't be nearly as good as it is today.  I would have never made the core group of friends that I met at that wretched video store and am still in touch with and consider them all close friends today.  I would've never got the chance to fulfill a dream by working in professional wrestling, let a lone do it for 12 years now.  

Life is a funny thing...  Stop for a minute and try to find your moment in life where if you had made a different decision your life today would be vastly different if not night and day different than it is.  Share it with me here on my blog in the comments section or use that nifty Contact Me option on the right hand side.

I will have another blog up this week, this was kind of a spur of the moment deal.  Be looking for it here here by Wednesday or Thursday.   And keep sending me your ideas, comments, questions.

Until Next Time,

Be Well.....