Funny or Sad?

So we recently replaced the TV in our family room, and pick up a nice LCD TV.  Now while we were expecting little fingerprints to be all over the bottom half of the set, we didn't expect to walk in on our son hitting the screen. 

There he was, smacking Dora's face, becoming more frustrated with every whack.  We yelled at him to stop, and asked him why he was hitting the TV.  He just looked at us, pointed to the Ipad, and said TV broke.  My son thought the TV was a giant tablet.

Is it funny or sad that a 2 year old thinks everything is a touchscreen?

How Do I Do This?

As I looked at my son, I had this paralyzing realization, I have to teach this boy how to be a man.  Both my two year old, and his upcoming brother are going to be looking at me for a model of what a man should be, and that scares the shit out of me.

It made me reflect at the example my father set of manhood.  He is a former Marine, turned cop who would spend his free time between church and home projects (building decks, finishing a basement, etc.).  Then I looked at myself, and saw chubby accountant who spends his free time blogging between Xbox sessions and porn.  This is not the kind of men that I want my boys to become.

It seems the only way to get my boys to be better than me, is for me to become a better man myself.  Set the example, and hope the follow suit.  It's that realization that makes me wonder how do I pull that off.  Because quite frankly, I'm a lazy asshole who has no ambition to change my ways. 

I would like to think that I can make that change from sheer will, but let's face it I'm not. 
I would like to think that I can make a change so my sons don't grow up to be whiny bitch excuses for men. 
I would like to think for that I could...

Picking My Battles

Not so long ago my wife told me I have to pick my battles with my son.  She told me it's not worth fighting over every little thing, and that it's probably best to choose my spots when dealing with him.  I officially call bullshit on that. 

I'll be the first one to agree picking your battles in incredibly important in a relationship.  When you have two people working to build a life together, that is incredibly important.  But not when dealing with a two year old who's trying to drink out of the toilet. 

As far as I'm concerned, he is my son.  Not my friend, or my partner.  He's my tenant living rent free in my house.  Hell, I've already used the phrase "because I said so", and felt drunk with power after saying it.  Can you imagine me saying that to my wife?  I'd be on the couch by nightfall.

So now my wife has to live with a stubborn two year old, and a husband who firmly believes that "Either I win, or we all lose".

She is soooooooo screwed.

What Is He Watching?

Every night before bed time, we watch TV as a family.  Which translates to me having to endure some children's programming that makes me bang my head on the wall and attempt count the minutes until it's over.  His favorite of the moment, Dora the Explorer.

So since I was stuck watching this crap, with my son happily tucked between my wife and I, my mind started to wander.  And I came to the conclusion that I believe Dora the Explorer can be construed as racist.  You wouldn't think that could be possible. Not with the content, and all of the PHDs listed in the credits.  But if you break it down, I believe we can see a subliminal commentary on minorities...

First we have Dora, an unsupervised brown girl who wanders about where ever and whenever she pleases.  Her parents don't ever seem to care where she is, or even when she comes (Which I personally think is bullshit since I couldn't leave the block and had to be home before the street lamps came on).   So there she in, always meandering about with her best friend Boots.  A "monkey" who takes way to much pride in his footwear.  Let's face it, if they slap the Timberland logo on those shoes we know exactly what kind of metaphor Boots is supposed to be.

So we have a brown girl, and a "monkey" wandering about the "jungle", all the while trying to not get jacked by some slick motha fucka in a bandana, named Swiper.  Sometimes they get help from their friends:

• Tico - their buck toothed friend that doesn't speak English,
• Izza - who is constantly growing flowers (i.e. weed) in her garden, or
• Benny - whose main source of transportation (a hot air balloon) is constantly breaking down and leaving him helpless.  In one episodes the actually fix his ride with tape.

Put this all together, seems to me Dora the Explorer is a just a giant metaphor for living in the ghetto.  I wonder why no one else ever saw this.

Epiphany

I recently took stock of my life I realized everything that I had going for me:

• My Own Home
• A Wonderful Son
• Another Child On The Way

It was at that moment I looked at my wife and had an epiphany...

 

I'd have to fuck up pretty bad for her to leave my dumb ass!!!!

 

Between a mortgage, and two kids my list of divorceable offenses is now about 3 items long.  And the beauty part is, every item on that list involves another woman.  As long as I keep it in my pants, I don't think there is anything I can do that would make her go through the hassle of getting rid of me.  I have spousal security, and it's nice!

How'd This Happen?

So we are now making a laughable attempt at potty training our 2 year old.  We have the potty, we get him to sit on it daily, and we have yet to have any repeated success.  Unfortunately as a result, my son has now become fascinated by what's going on in the bathroom.  So much so, he's now barging in on my wife whenever she uses one (I lock the door, she doesn't). 

So this brings us to the other night.  I took him to the bathroom to use his potty and watched him sit down, wrap toilet paper around his hand, reach in, wipe his sack, and then get up and flush.  HE'S LEARNED TO PEE LIKE A GIRL!!!!!  

Now while this is adorable now, this could cause him some issues later in life.  As much as I want to fix this, I don't want to turn him off to the idea of the potty, nor do I want to clean up pee off the bathroom floor.  Sometime I wonder if this is my wife's way of screwing with me.

Chasing Baby

My two year old has started to run away whenever he objects to Mommy or Daddy requests.  It could be putting him to bed, changing his diaper, or trying to bathe him.  If he doesn't agree, he's now taking off.    The interesting thing is that the child is running himself into a corner every time.  Without fail, all we have to do is follow him, and scoop him up once he's trapped.

Now while I find this lack of foresight to be both convenient and hilarious, it got me thinking.  If my son was in a horror movie, he would be the first person killed.  Same is true if he's running from bullies in school, or escaped animals from the zoo.  While I feel my job as a father is to prepare him for the world, I really don't want to teach him evasion techniques just so I can bitten in the ass later on. 

Or should this just be something he learns on his own?  Doesn't Darwin state that if an animal runs straight into a wall every time, nature has deemed that creature to be too stupid to live? 

My plan:  If he's still doing this at 10, then I sit him down and knock out two talks in one sitting.  Otherwise, I'm enjoying the chase that only last 30 seconds.

Ethnic Name Game

With the birth of our second son, comes the frustrating task of naming this child.  An exercise in both patience in compromise (the patience demonstrated predominately by my wife).  My wife's goal is simple, give this child a name that is both cute and not very common.  My goal is to give this child a name, that if he ever ends up in prison, it won't get his assed kicked.  So that it our first obstacle.

Our second obstacle is that I am of Puerto Rican dissent, and my wife is for lack of a better term, Wisconsin White.  So whenever she throws out a name I deem to be too white, I counter with an ethnic name that will make my in laws groan.  She suggests Parker, I suggest Diego.  She suggests Preston, I suggest Malik.  She suggests Trent, I counter with Geraldo.

So as of right now, she's frustrated, I'm amused, and our soon to be newborn is named 2.0.

Advice

With the birth of my second child right around the corner, I am reminded about all advice I received before the birth of my first son.  All of the unsolicited, generic advice that came from all those who were supposedly wiser than I in parenting.  All of those moronic acquaintances who spat out such pearls as:

• Remember to sleep when the baby sleeps, or
• Remember to do all you can to make your wife comfortable.

After the birth of my son, I realized that not one person gave me any form of practical advice that I could have found useful.  For example, no one stressed the importance of pecker position when you're diapering a boy.  If you unfamiliar with my meaning, then you probably have daughters so I'll explain.

The most absorbent part of a diaper is down into the padding.  The least absorbent is on the sides, where the flaps come over so the Velcro can join.  So when you are diapering a boy, where his manhood is pointing becomes a consideration.  During the first week of holding my infant son, no less that 9 shirts had little circular stains, along with his bassinet, and our coach.  I think the worst moment came, when I left him pointing upwards and he woke up crying because a geyser was escaping from the top of his diaper.

This would have been useful information for a first time father, so now I make it a point to tell every new dad I meet this little gem.  As for those wise men and women who failed to convey this information to me, I found all the ones who had sons, and I passed along my new knowledge along with a hand gesture to convey my appreciation for their advice.