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.....

Maintaining My Sanity, While Channeling My Inner Gallagher...

I want to start off this entry with a big thank you to those of you who took a moment and either commented, dropped me a line, or subscribed to my blog.  I've had a chance to read some of them and get back in touch with a few of you and your ideas will be put into place here in the future.  I still want more feedback though.  I realize that you can't please everyone 100% of the time, and that when all is said and done I'm going to do and write about what makes me happy.  But in that I want to share it with you guys and if I can tackle a topic you're interested in, answer a question, or not talk about my kids too much, I will make every effort to do so.
All that being said, let's knock this entry out..

I feel like a horrible parent...  Caleb has been home now for what seems to be about 27 days in a row from school.  Ok, so actually more like 6 but it feels a lot longer.  He's not one to be shut in for this period of time and my sanity isn't one to take him being shut in for this period of time.  We're in the middle of a ridiculous cold snap here in Michigan and wind chills have been running between 20-50 below zero.  And when it's that cold they automatically call school off.  And he hasn't had school since last Thursday...  I love Caleb, he's a ridiculously smart kid, he's amazingly artistic, and when he picks his moments he can flash a razor sharp wit.  But I feel bad..  I see all these parents on Facebook putting status updates like "Yay! another snow day with my kid!!!" , "So and so doesn't have school again today and I'm pumped!!!"   Meanwhile Father of the Year here answered the phone this morning at 5:45 am to an automated message telling me JPS is closed again today and immediately was like "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!"   Maybe it's because I have all 4 boys here, maybe it's because he gets antsy being home this long, I dunno...  But I wake up to the baby yelling like a madman about 8:05 am and I instantly hear Caleb and the twins in the living room fighting.  This is a morning tradition by the way, Caleb I'm pretty sure to some degree is part robot as he NEVER sleeps..  He goes to bed about 8:30-9pm and has been up for the day by 2-3am...  Of course by late afternoon/early evening he morphs into this angry, overly tired, highly emotional monster that will emit screams so piercing dolphins will beach themselves off the coast of Texas, and I'm pretty sure I witnessed a neighbors dog's head explode during one of these outbursts...  He needs to get back to school for his sanity and mine a like.   But I keep telling myself Spring is around the corner and so is baseball.  But that's another entry in itself...

Alex is now 7 months old..  It doesn't seem possible for him to be that old already but he is.  The kid has the biggest cheeks I have ever seen on a baby..  He looks like a real life baby version of Charlie Brown..

Anyway, as he's moved past the 6 month stage we've moved him to baby food.  Not the good kind like Turkey and stuff.  Crap like Sweet Potatoes and Squash, Peas,  things I would never eat in a million years... But we force them on him whether he likes it or not and most times he does not.  Feeding him has become a lot like the scene from Happy Gilmore where he's trying to putt into the clown's mouth...  Sometimes it closes and you miss, other times it's open and you make it in, and other times you make it in, then it spits it back out at you..

..

The difference being of course when he spits his food out at us we don't attack him with a putter..  The thought has crossed my mind,but then I realize he's just a baby, and I put the putter away..   It's not that bad feeding him outside of the fact you get a first hand feel for what it's like to be in the front row of a Gallagher show..  I feel like I should come to his feedings wearing a plastic sheet over me.  Whatever happened to Gallagher by the way??  Alex has a strange feeding habit in that he doesn't much care for green vegetables, but will eat orange one's with no problem whatsoever.  The problem with this is that you end up with a baby Oompa Loompa in the process.  They tend to develop an orange tint to their skin.  And he has right now an orange tint to his nose and cheeks...  I desperately want to get him a green wig.  But as we all know Oompa Loompa's are the very thing nightmares are made of..   I think one of my favorite things about feeding him is finding foods he doesn't like..  You haven't seen true funny until you watch a baby dry heave after tasting something they didn't like...  It's comedy gold.   When it stops being fun is when he starts crying.  At first it wasn't bad, when he'd open his mouth to cry you'd jam a spoonful of food in and he'd it eat.  But he has mastered the art of both laughing and crying with his mouth closed which I have to tell you, sucks...  He on the other hand thinks it's hilarious to see us get worked up because he won't eat..   The more I think about it, the more I realize he truly is the puppet master here...  If he doesn't feel like eating he clams up, we see this and go into some odd ball slap stick comedy routine filled with making faces only an overbearing stage mom could appreciate, and noises that usually would indicate some form of mental breakdown...   All the while, he sits there smirking and laughing with his mouth closed...  He's doing it on purpose I'm pretty sure...  We do get our moments though...  He'll be powering through some sweet potatoes and will finish them and we'll hit him with another vegetable like peas, or maybe a fruit like peaches and the look is priceless...  It's like you flipped his little world upside down momentarily.  It's a cross between bewilderment and the very definition of confusion.  It's amazing.  Don't judge me, it's the little things that help us keep it together as parents..  There are 4 of them and 2 of us.. We're out numbered and we know it..  We just hope they never realize that or it's over....

I'll close out this blog with another food related story I briefly touched on in my last blog..  This one involves the twins Josh and Jonah.   We went to dinner with my parents.  It was them, Jill, myself, Caleb, Josh, Jonah, my sister and her two kids.  We had just spent a hellish afternoon trying to do family pictures.  Which was a lot like trying to wrangle cats.  We get done and agree to go the Spartan Hall of Fame Cafe in Lansing.  We get there, get our table, and wait forever for a waitress to come acknowledge us.  And what happens when you ask little kids (I think they were either 1 or 2) to sit for an extended period of time?  They don't...  So the waitress comes, takes the order, and leaves and it's another extended period of time because they're busy.  The boys being boys are done.  So they start fussing and fidgeting.  In an attempt to quiet them I hand them spoons to play with.. The mindset what "oh look, shiny.."   Well, that worked for about 5 minutes until it turned into light drumming on the table, then on their plates.  Mind you, we were isolated from most of the room.  There was a couple about 50-60 feet away.  And nobody seemed to mind the boys impromptu drum solos...  That is until the waitress returned to our table with appetizers.  She leans in and says to us "the couple over there complained that your boys are being too loud."  I of course immediately look over at their table and the lady is looking at us, see's me look at her and looks down at her food.  I never got their names, so we'll call them The Von Yuppington's.  They were very yuppyish...  Ok..  there's one of two ways I could have handled this...   1. The high road, quiet the kids down, do my best to keep them quiet, quickly get through the meal and leave.  or 2. Stare at them a lot, shake my head at them whenever they look and make it known we know it was them who whined to the waitress...  I took option 2... I'm not proud of this.  But come on..  Our kids weren't hurting anyone..  So I immediately stare at their table until they look again and I shake my head..  She says something to her husband who turns and looks and I look at him too.  He turns back around and continues with his fruity drink..  So we've established I'm unhappy and know the Von Yuppington's are the one's who did it.   If I had been thinking clearly at this point I would've asked the waitress what the lady was drinking and sent her a drink with a note that says "hopefully this will loosen you up enough for the stick to fall out of your butt.."  But I didn't think of that until we were leaving :(
Anyway, so we kinda kept the boys in line for dinner, we weren't breaking our backs trying, just shushing them half halfheartedly.  We finish up and get ready to leave, I give the boys spoons and let them drum as we're getting coats on and I may or may not have drummed a little while looking at their table..  Again, childish?  Yes...  But, you only live once right?  And who are they to complain when there were other kids in the place being every bit as loud?  It was ridiculous and I stooped to their level instead of being the bigger person.  But sometimes it's more fun that way.

Anyway.  Keep the comments, suggestions, subscriptions coming in!!  Take full advantage of all the options on the right hand side.  My posts will be about more than just my kids I promise, just lately they've given me a lot of material to work with..  I'll write about whatever gives me material to use.

Until next time,

Be Well.....

Art Class, New Ideas, and Changes

Hey all!  I'm not quite sure if this posting deal is going to be whenever I feel the tug to blog, or, if I should try to get myself on some kind of regiment and deadline myself to come up with something weekly or sooner.  Anyway, this blog is going to be a mash up of ideas, events, and happenings over the past week since I last blogged.  There is going to be a lot of information to process and it's going to come at you rather quickly so grab a drink, strap on your helmet (and bib) and let's do this.....  BTW, this could be a pretty lengthy blog as well..  Just giving you a heads up...

First things first...  There are some major changes to my blog, but not so major that you might not notice unless I tell you... Maybe they're not that major then..  But they are important!  The look of the blog is relatively still the same, but, there are some options along the right side of the blog that may make it easier for you to follow and read my blog if you so desire.  Here are the additions to the blog:

1st - The first option on the right hand side is an option to share my blog with others.  I give full permission  for anyone who reads my blog to share it if they so feel compelled to do so.  The options for sharing are to share it on Facebook with your family/friends, or to Tweet out my blog on Twitter if you go that route.  I write because it's fun, it's therapeutic, and it's a nice little escape for a little while to sit and mindlessly hammer the stories of my life and kids.  Especially if someone else can get a chuckle out of it the way I do living it.  So share it, spread it around like the plague, Tweet it out to the masses!

2. The second option is a Contact Me option.  Once you read the blog and share and tweet it to your friends.  You can fill out that nifty little form on the right hand side under the Contact Me.  This is significant for two reasons.  1. So you can let me know who you are, where you're from, and share your life stories with me, leave me a comment, ask me a question, or even give me some topic ideas to write about in the future.  2. If you fill it out and leave me your address you can opt into having my blog sent directly to your email so that you don't have to open up a browser if you're at work.  Just shoot me your email address, and when I blog I will throw your email address in there and you will have a blog in your inbox as soon as I hit publish.  Pretty sweet...

3.  And the 3rd change is a subscribe option.  This is if you don't want it emailed to you but want to be notified that a new blog has been posted.  You can click the button under Subscribe To Deep Meanderings Of A Clueless Mind and either click Posts, which will get you subscribed to my blog entries.  Or you can also click All Comments, which means when people comment on my blogs (or IF they do) you will see those as well and can converse with people, meet new people, make new friends, find true love, get married, have kids, name one after me..... Sorry, got a little carried away..

But those are the changes to my blog.  Hopefully to make your life and reading about my life a little easier for you.  Because I'm all about making your life easier.

With that being said there is one other major idea I've had recently and I want to bounce it off you guys.  I have had an increase in traffic to my blog recently which I love and appreciate all who have stopped by.  And I've had a couple of people tell me I should look into writing a book.  And that idea has stuck with me and embedded itself into my brain.  It wouldn't be a novel or anything because the world has enough trashy, smutty, western robot erotica and stuff.   If I were to attempt this, it would be a book consisting of a collection of stories or essays about my life as a parent of four boys, their exploits, my life experiences, with touches of sarcasm sprinkled in here and there.  Basically I would be taking this blog and some of my entries and turning them into a book.   I like to share the stories of living with four boys and tell it with humor, sarcasm and honesty.  And I would like to share it on a larger scale if possible.  I know the process is difficult and that realistically I'd have a better chance of waking up with a six pack (not beer) and look like Mark-Paul Gosselaar or Kirk Cameron or whomever you crazy kids are hanging posters of on your wall from TigerBeat Magazine than to have my book published.  But, I also feel that if I didn't explore that avenue and see what I could do then it would be a "what if" for me.  So what do you think?  Do you think it's something I should or should not pursue?  You can use that nifty Contact Me option on the right hand side to share your thoughts with me.

Alright,  That in itself should have been a blog...  But now, we'll get down to business with the actual blog.. So here.we.go.

Caleb had his second art class this past Saturday.  For those of you who didn't read the last blog (and you should have by now, if not, stop immediately, go back, read ALL my blogs leading up to this one.. We'll all wait for you to catch up....)  I was subjected to what could only be described as an assault from a Stage Mom..  Ok, so assault may be a little strong of a word but she did make her 6 year old daughter go through all the ranges of emotion for MY benefit, to show me what a good little actress she is and that she is her mom's meal ticket out of Jackson and onto bigger and better things..  Hey, I couldn't make this up if I tried. Those were the actual words out of the mother's mouth.  She has all her hopes and dreams pinned on the shoulders of her 6 year old..  Anyway, back to this past Saturday.  I was sitting in a different spot this time, after surveying the empty room I strategically picked what I thought was the best space to be left alone.  It was sitting at a table, far side of the room, not in the path of major foot traffic or overbearing stage mom's who feel the need to share their kids facial expressions with me. I brought my Droid phone with me this time so that I can pretend to be doing important things like ignoring overbearing stage mom's ( I know, go ahead and judge me for being one of those people who would rather bury their face in a phone looking down than to talk to others).    So I take my seat, pull out my phone, set my coffee in front of me and pray for time to fly.  Not more than 5 minutes later I hear her voice, and I know it's her because that voice has been burned into my brain. I cringe and immediately start playing on my phone like I'm attending to important business, if you call playing Angry Birds- Star Wars Edition important business...   Only this time the lady has brought an entourage with her trailing behind the 6 year old like she's Beyonce.  And where do they stop and set up camp for the next 10 minutes??  If you guessed directly across from me at my table you'd be correct...   Out of ALL of the 8 tables, 2 benches, and circle of 8 chairs in the room, all of which were empty, they come directly to MY TABLE...  There are about 6 of them this time.  Not wanting to be a complete roach (although I desperately wanted to ignore their existence, or even make them disappear) I look up from my phone quickly to give a polite smile and a "good morning".  Then directly back to my phone..  Not so fast.... The lady again mistakes my politeness as an invitation to over share and over step social boundaries.  Instead of returning with a "good morning" and going about her business of overbearing stage mom, she instead decides to fill me in on who all the people were and why they're there....   I got to meet her brother and his wife, her sister, her auntie, her mom and a family friend.. I got names of all of them but didn't care enough to commit them to memory, I was too busy contemplating the survival percentages of throwing myself out the 2nd story window at that point.   I was then informed that they were all there to see their little princess act and light up the stage in the room.  After forcibly holding back a dry heave, I again politely smile and say to the little girl "looks like you have a good fan base already, that's awesome."   I know the little girl isn't at fault, but this is a learned behavior and she will turn into a monster of her mothers creation.  Where every church function, school play, etc will be a "performance" and despite the fact she's a TREE in the play with no lines, she will be the main focus because her mother has taught her that she is so.  But I digress, the people around her although nice enough and friendly enough people are only helping to fuel this transformation from innocent little girl into an attention seeking monster.   Luckily this week I was spared the facial expression obstacle course and after small talk that seemed to drag on for weeks they finally all got up, put her back on her pedestal and carried her into acting class.

Ok, that was painful, but it was over.  A quick glace at the time shows it's 10:20 am..  40 more minutes.  But it should be a quiet 40 minutes spent sipping coffee and playing Angry Birds...  Again, I'm wrong... So terribly wrong....   As in walks a father, his daughter, and his two sons who can only be described as a cross between the Tasmanian Devil from Bugs Bunny, Screech from Saved By The Bell, and Satan...  The daughter runs immediately to her class, the dad and two boys take up camp across the room from me about 60 feet away.  Ok, cool, I can handle this, they'll be down there to themselves, and despite the fact they make more noise than 2 dolphins in a dryer full of rocks, I can still just play my game and drink my coffee..   But demon spawns 1 and 2 had other ideas for my time.   They for the first 5 minutes stay by dad.  Then slowly I notice them inching their way down towards me.  Next thing I know, they are directly in front of me.  One is standing on a chair, the other is trying to kill him I believe.  This goes on for about 2-3 minutes with them yelling and knocking over chairs.  Meanwhile, dad is sitting at the other end of the room one can only assume dying laughing in side because his kids are bothering someone else and not him and he finally has a moment of peace..  He's making NO attempt to stop, deter, or tranquilize his kids.  I keep looking at my phone and then there's silence...  I'm thinking they must have rendered each other unconscious.  So I look up from my phone and immediately almost have an accident in my pants, as one of them is standing no more than 3 feet from me just staring at me..  How long had he been standing there?  I have no clue, but he's just standing there staring at me and I'm pretty sure he's trying to steal my soul.  The other brother is sitting in a chair across from me also staring... Great..  The boy standing then walks over and is standing directly next to me completely invading my personal space and looking at my phone.  He then says "what games ya got on your phone?"   My first instinct is to pie face the kid away from me because any closer and he'd be wearing my shirt with me.  I say "I've got a few, Angry Birds, some baseball games, nothing big."   He nods and continues to stand there, the level of awkwardness sky rocketing to everyone in the universe buy him.  After a few minutes of this he finally slinks away.  His brother lingers a minute longer before being called away by his brother.  The hole time I'm sitting there I know the dad can see and hear these guys...  Yet makes NO attempt to corral them, call them away from me, or anything.  I mean for all the dad knows I could be some ax wielding child killer and he was content to let his kids hang around me.  So thankfully the little demons stayed down by their dad for the remainder of the time I was there.  I did see them however impose their will upon another small boy of 3 who came with his mom to pick up his sister.  They immediately without knowing or even asking the boys name take him by the hand and lead him all over the room, the boy clearly wants to watch what they're doing but does not want to play.  So he finally breaks free and with all the will of a hostage who's escaped their captor runs to his mother and clings to her leg.

All in all I really do like to just sit and people watch.  I don't know what it is about people but I could be content to grab a coffee, find a place to sit in the middle of a mall (preferably one of those soft chairs) and just watch the people walk by.  I can do that to a degree in Caleb's art class.  It's almost like some kind of social experiment in Parenting.  You see all kinds of parents walk by during that hour that I'm there.  From the parents who truly support their children and want nothing more than to see them happy and succeed.  To the parents who are hanging unfulfilled hopes and dreams on their child with the hopes of the child leading them onto bigger and better things.  To parents who seem to have a general disregard for others and let their kids run amok and figure as long as they're alive and something isn't burning down then all is well...  I know I fall somewhere in the middle of it all.  I generally want my son to be happy and to be successful, I don't have any aspirations of him using his talent to benefit myself.

It is at times difficult to contain your children 100%.  Especially if you're in a situation where they have you in a 3 on 1 disadvantage.  Because they know they have the advantage, and they can smell fear...  In that instance your best bet is to nip the one acting out the worst and pray the other two don't maim or kill anyone or set anything ablaze.  But when I was doing deliveries there were people who would let their kids crawl behind a washing machine with me when there was barely room for my thoughts back there.  And this little kid then proceeds to start punching and grabbing me.  All the while the parent is on the other side of the washer laughing and saying such helpful things as "looks like you've made a new friend" or "someone isn't being shy around you."   Meanwhile, I'm showing all the restraint in the world not to launch little Billy over the washer at his mom or stuff little Dakota in the dryer to test it out..  It's inconsiderate and dangerous.  I don't know if anyone reading has ever taken a 220 volt zap before. But it's a less than pleasurable experience. A 110v can make muscle contract and hold, a 220v can and has put me on my butt.  Usually resulting in tingling of that hand, arm, fingers, for awhile after depending on how bad you get it.  I've had marks left on my hands from them.  And unless you want to risk frying your precious little one, step in and take them out of the room.  I'm more than happy to goof around and be punched when I'm not at risk of serious injury.. Call me crazy...

Like I said in my last blog.  I'm not a perfect parent.  I've made everyone's fair share of mistakes.  From hitting my kids heads on doorways as I carry them through, to giving my son a bloody nose with an unintentional head butt to the face.  And in my next blog I'll give you an instance where we were almost ask to leave due to the twins being little boys times 2....

Remember, take advantage of the new options on the right hand side.  Drop by and tell me who you are, where you're from, and leave a comment, subscribe, ask a question if you have one, or give me some ideas on what you'd like to see written about in the future.

Until next time,

Be Well........

Kids... Parenting at the intersection of insanity and life...

Ok, I will preface this blog entry with the statement that I am by NO MEANS a perfect parent...  Heck, most days I'm shocked by dinner time that CPS hasn't shown up and shot me.   I make my fair share of mistakes as a parent... I also make your fair share of mistakes and your friends fair share as well..   I need to be more patient with my kids, I need to be less selfish with my time, I need to learn to control the anger that consumes me when the baby cries, I need to learn to curb the sarcasm toward the kids cause let's face it, it's wasted on them for two reasons.. 1. They don't get sarcasm, and 2. I waste some of my best lines on them and am only met with blank stares or they just turn around and walk away...   But ultimately, I want to curb it so they themselves don't grow up overly sarcastic and learn to lead with their mouth and words instead of their brains.  And sarcasm as they get older can hurt, unintentional as it may be I have fired a barb or two at my oldest that I could see visibly stung.  I am always quick to correct and apologize.  And I am working on trying to tone it down.

I love my kids.  I would die for them in a heartbeat.  There are days I feel like I might hesitate on that last statement but push come to shove I wouldn't think twice.  For those of you who might be first time readers I have 4 boys.  The oldest is 9, he has ADHD, and he has learned to push every button and play every key on me like his name was Mozart..  He is both the funniest and most aggravating child I've ever known.  He's so smart, he's artistically talented and the most stubborn child I've ever met.  Headstrong as the day is long he will fight you to the death even if he knows he's wrong.  He could tell you grass is pink and would go blue in the face arguing it.  I have identical twins who are 4.   Days are never dull with them around.  They have the most bizarre humor, they are sensitive to others, they are high strung, and they live life at 100 miles per hour. And finally there's Alex.  He's 7 months old and is still developing his personality.  He laughs like a 400lb man which makes any day great.

Let me start my story this past Saturday...  I took my son to his first art class at the old Jackson Armory.  It's an hour long so I decided to just stick it out and wait out in the waiting area by myself.  I'm sitting there minding my business when a lady and her 6 year old daughter come in.  They also have acting classes, dance classes and stage classes at this place.   The WHOLE room is empty with chairs everywhere so of course they sit down right across from me.  The mother is as silent as Gilbert Gottfried with a megaphone, telling her daughter she's talented, pretty, and going to be a great actress..  Great, I'm all for positive reinforcement..  But she must have been waiting for me to look up.. I did, I made eye contact with her and smiled which turned out to be a big mistake.  This gesture of politeness was apparently mistaken as a green light to start what would become the longest, most awkward 10 minutes of my life.   She says my daughter (says her name at this point but I don't remember what it is) is 6 and she takes acting classes..   I smile politely and nod and say something positive like "that's awesome" or something.   And I'm thinking "ok, that's over, let's all just move on in silence."  Wrong.....  The lady then says "she's gonna be my meal ticket out of here, out of Jackson, and onto better things. Aren't ya baby?"  I look up expecting to see her smiling and joking.  But no, this lady was serious.. dead serious...  She's looking at me with a serious expression and says "she's gonna get us outta here, she's a great little actress."   Then if that wasn't awkward enough she calls the little girl over and says "baby, show him how good you are."   She then proceeds to send this little girl through a gauntlet of facial expressions and emotions for my benefit..   "Alright baby, happy face... sad face... angry face.... surprised face... be excited...  can you cry baby?   Can you cry when asked?"   At this point I'm waving a mental white flag because I've had enough..  There is a 6 yr old girl across from me who is trying to cry and has this look on her face like she's deep in thought and/or constipated...  After about 15-20 seconds the girl goes "I can't mamma."   The mom just chuckles and looks at me like I'm supposed to analyze and critique her "performance."   I just smile and go "wow, she is pretty good..."  All the while thinking.. My kids do this all the time and you're paying for her to do this?   And I feel bad for this little girl because you can just feel the hopes and dreams of her mother on her little shoulders.  And that this is most likely more for her mother than anything else.  Sadly, I have seen this a lot since I've become a parent.  Parents placing their unfulfilled hopes and dreams on their children.    And to a further degree I can almost understand it.  I wanted Caleb to love baseball with the same passion I had for it.  Only I wanted him to be better than I was and go further than I did.  And so when he decided to play baseball I was excited, then when I saw that baseball didn't come to him like it did to me and that he was losing interest I wanted to push and keep him playing.  But he made it clear that baseball isn't for him.  And he doesn't intend on playing anymore.  Who's to say he won't when he gets older, but I would be willing to bet that he will never play again.

And that's ok.   Yes, it took me some time to accept this and there may have been times of openly weeping and questioning whether or not he's really my son (not really)...  But he's found his passion and it's art.  The kid can draw like no other 9 year old I've ever met.  And so we'll cultivate that and run with it instead.   But I would never put my future happiness on his art as my "ticket to better things."  Hopefully it is for him, but there is nothing in it for me other than seeing him happy doing something he loves.   Who is to say what the other three boys might get into...  They might be golfers or runners.  Things I never did.  And that's ok.  Would I like to see one of my son's take to baseball as I did.  You bet I would... But my world isn't going to end if that doesn't happen.

What makes parents push their kids, or put their kids on pedestals?   For every kid I have watched who naturally picks up a sport or music, or art.  There is a parent who makes their little one sing the same song over and over to whomever crosses their path.  Or makes them perform acting exercises for complete strangers thinking their kid is head and shoulders above all the rest.  When really this is all the person is thinking.....

It's almost like the parent has lost touch with reality.  Or that they're trying to make their lives out to be more than they are.  Who knows...  I know of people who I'm pretty sure would be willing to bet their kids can in fact walk on water.   And the kids in all of this are being taught they're better than everyone else, that they can do no wrong, and next you know they have this tragically heightened sense of entitlement and are monsters created by their parents.

Which goes into my last issue and that's kids today are too coddled.  What I mean is that there is no room for failure, no lessons for failure and overcoming it.  There are no lessons in disappointment.  In learning that life will throw you curve balls and that you won't always get your way.  Today it's "everyone wins, there are no losers."   "Everyone gets a trophy, medal, award..."   "No cuts sports programs."   I have issues with all of these things.   Here is the part where I turn into a 75yr old man, hitch my pants, shake my fist, and talk about things back in my day...   I'm not that old.. I'm 36, and even when I was in school there were cuts made to make teams.  I was cut from a 13-14 yr old traveling baseball team.  I was devastated, I literally wanted to quit baseball, but you know what?  I learned to deal with the disappointment, and ultimately used that feeling of being cut and devastated to make me work harder to make it the next season.  I was never cut from a team after that because I didn't want to feel that feeling of failing again.  Michael Jordan was cut from his basketball team and used it as motivation to succeed in the future.

But today, sports teams are all "no cuts" so there are no hurt feelings, there is no disappointment, everyone makes it so that no one feels left out.  Then they take it a step further and make these rules that "everyone must play."  I realize in high school the main point isn't winning but learning to play as a team, have fun, learn the game, and become better at it.   But winning is in there too.. No body plays to lose, no one goes into the season saying "I don't care if we go 0 and 20 as long as everyone plays and has a good time.."   No, everyone wants to win...  And the only way to have fun, and win is by fielding the best team possible.  Not playing kids that would have otherwise been cut from the team.  But that's too much of a risk to take because someone might have a case of the boo hoo's if they don't make it.  So now, everyone is special and as Syndrome said in The Incredibles...  "When everyone's super, no one is."

Don't get me wrong.  I love kids, not in a windowless van, free candy kind of way.  But kids seem to generally like me.  But we're setting them up for a huge reality check when they leave high school or college. And they find out they've been handed everything and never disappointed. And they don't know how to cope with that because they've never had to deal with it.  There is a study that said today's kids deal with a higher level of anxiety and mental stress than patients did in mental asylums in the 1950's.  We can't possibly be helping them by hiding them from life and disappointment.  Or am I off?

Sorry this entry isn't nearly as humor filled as they normally tend to be, just been thinking about this since I was subjected to the child screen test Saturday..

Until next time...

Be Well...

Bonding Time With My Doctor..... *Warning, Graphic Content*

Ok, so it's been awhile since I last blogged.  I don't know why honestly, I like blogging and I have plenty of ideas on things to blog about.  I guess it's making time and that funny thing called being a dad to 4 kids that has kept me away.  I want to make a sincere attempt to blog more in 2014.   I have 4 little walking blog subjects walking around this house at any given time.  Some of the things that are said by them and their actions alone are worthy of a blog.

That being said, I'll dive into yesterday.  But I'll start with the back story.  I know I posted a warning for graphic content, but there really won't be any.  Maybe some borderline over share, but nothing graphic and I won't go into details.  

So I've been experiencing pain in my lower extremities for about a month.  Given my family history of prostate cancer, bladder cancer, etc..  I was pretty concerned.  I know I'm only 36 but cancer knows no age and really doesn't care how old you are.  So after some putting off I finally made the doctor appointment to go figure out what is going on.

I go in yesterday, go through the motions of a normal doctor appointment, pulse, blood pressure, temp, etc...  Then the nurse asks me to tell her in detail what's wrong, where it hurts, and what not..  I instantly am uncomfortable.. I mean I can tell my doctor with a minimal amount of being uncomfortable, but this is a female nurse whom I've never seen in my life.  So I proceed to stammer and stumble over my words as I awkwardly tell her what's going on.  I'm pretty sure at that point she thought my main problem was being mentally challenged.  If ever there was a moment where the awkwardness was so thick in the air you could cut it with a knife, it was yesterday..  So we stumble through that like a drunken rhino in a china shop and she tells me that the doctor will be in shortly.  Ok, cool, the doctor and I have a good relationship, he knows all about me, my family history, and even about my time in wrestling.

Doc comes in and shakes my hand, sits down on his rolling stool and wheels over to me.  Asks me to explain again what's going on.  I tell him with a minimal amount of discomfort.  He types some stuff into his laptop and sets it aside along with his professionalism at that point and says "drop your drawers man."   What?  Drop your drawers man???   That kinda threw me a little...  So reluctantly I did, we go through the exam, he says he doesn't think it's cancer as he doesn't find any indicators.  I'm relieved to say the least, he takes off his gloves and I start to pull up my pants and he says "not so fast buster, we need to check that prostate while we're here..."    Instantly all I could think about is....

So, he asks if I have any allergies to anything like latex, etc..  I with as much humor as a man with his pants around his ankles can muster tell him I am in fact allergic to prostate exams....  He chuckles slightly and says "ok, over the table, rest on your elbows.."    Great... Here we go.. No small talk,  no buying me dinner first, just hit the table fatty....    So I do, with the feeling one can only assume one has his first night and shower in prison...  And he goes "oops, gonna be a sec, can't find what I need here..."  So here he is rummaging through the drawers in the room like he's lost his car keys.  Meanwhile, I'm leaning over the table exposed to the world in what can only be described as the most vulnerable of positions.  And he STOPS what he's doing and goes "good time for me to not be able to find what I need while you're standing there with your pants around your ankles..."   Really?!?!?  I hadn't noticed slappy..  I do this all the time really..  Take your time... Open the door if you want to, invite some people in to chat whilst you continue your search for the holy grail in those drawers..   Not the time to be joking in my opinion, I wanted nothing more than to turn around and punch him in the neck.  But a move like that and I'd most likely have sprawled out on the cold tile floor.  So I held my position for what I believe was 2 hours.  He finally goes "alright, we're good, are you ready?"  Am I ready??  Like I'm going to giggle and go "yes, please."  No, I'm not ready, a 90 day notice would not be enough time to be ready..    So needless to say I was violated and all tests came back good.  Minus the 90 minutes I spent at home after ward sitting, silently sobbing under a running shower as I hugged my knees and rocked gently.   So finally the exam is over and I get to pull up and be fully dressed again.  There is an awkwardness to our conversation after this.  He tells me that he doesn't think it's cancer, which was the important thing to me.  So we finish up and he extends his hand to shake mine.  I hesitate briefly like Hulk Hogan to look around for crowd approval.  I thought maybe I'd get a hug at least.  I mean that's a pretty special bond you create with a doctor in a moment like that.  But alas, I just shake his hand and run to my car with tears welling up in my eyes...  

Not a banner day for me but I guess the outcome could have been a lot worse.  I'm thankful that the possibility of cancer has been ruled out.  I'm not looking forward to that age where you have to have that done yearly.  But hey, the sun is out today, that is now all in the past, and with some therapy I will be good as new in no time...

I will hopefully be updating this blog more frequently from now on.  Even if it's just weird random rambling, kinda like what most of my blogs are.  Hope you enjoyed a little look into my life.  Just be thankful that look wasn't as detailed as the one the doctor had yesterday.  Think he'll bill me for his therapy??

Until next time, be well...