F**k Christmas...

...and fuck the son of a bitch creator of Christmas lights too.

Now it goes without saying, that women have the most work during the holiday season.  I can't speak for anyone else, but in my house my wife buys the gifts, arranges the dinner, cooks the meal, etc.  She's pretty much a one woman yule tide tornado getting everything done weeks in advance. 

I'm not trying to diminish her contribution, but at the same time recognition must be pad to a shit job that Dad is expected to do.  The time consuming, back breaking holiday cheer that falls into the category of background scenery.  If we do our job right, it's immediately noticed and dismissed just as quickly.  If we do our job wrong, it is the focus on conversation and the bane of our existence.  I am of course speaking of the hanging of the lights.

Now I don't know when celebrating the birth of Christ, turned into dangling from a ladder and multiple trips to Home Depot, but apparently it is now necessary.  I have to decorate my home, and run up the electric bill so that the kids can get the true Christmas experience.  To that comment, I call bullshit.  My 2 year old gets exciting about the lights for about 5 minutes on the first day, and my newborn isn't making any memories, so I doubt he cares.  But whatever, I do what I can to make my wife happy.

I'm not sure if my experience can encapsulated what all fathers go through, but my "project" took about 7 hours over the coarse of two days. 

Step One: The unpacking of the lights -   Which as I untangled, noticed that what we had stored in the shed, can not be considered a fire hazard.  So into the trash they went, and I was off to the store with my son in tow.  Spent an unnecessary amount of money on new lights, and began....

Step Two: The hanging of the lights - Which proved to be the biggest bitch of the entire project, and required the used of both a 12 foot and 6 foot ladder.  And just to make matter worse, the majority of the Velcro hooks from the previous year were not longer viable.  The meant, another trip to the store. 
After another 45 minute detour, the tedious process of hanging these bitches started, and the we reached step three...

Step Three: Powering the lights - Which worked out great for me -  I strung the 8 strings of lights together, and plugged it into an extension cord, and boom.  All the lights were on and it was wonderful to see.  For about 5 minutes until all the lights went out.  The led to Step Four...

Step Four: Read the instructions on the lights after you hang them -  So apparently if you link 8 sets of lights together, that have fuses that can only support 3 stings, your lights will go out.  This I learned the hard way while performing...

Step Five: Fix what you did ASSHOLE! - This process involves the taking down on several sections, and reconfiguring the lights.   If  you're me, this would also mean another trip to Home Depot for another extension cord, stringing up a set of lights backwards, and screaming to your neighbors how much you hate Christmas.  But when all if said in done, there's only one thing left to do...

Step Six: Admire your work - At least until you come home the next morning, and see a set of lights swinging from the roof because the Velcro gave...

After all that, what Dad wouldn't want to say FUCK CHRISTMAS!!!!

It's Wrong To Fight A Two Year Old, Right?

My son has recently added a new technique to his bag of tantrum tricks.  He is now pushing me, square in the chest with both hands.  If you are having difficulties visualizing the action, just picture the opening move of every bar fight in the history of the world. 

The first time he did it, it flipped some unconscious switch in my head and I reacted in fight mode.  Fortunately, I realized before anything had happened who I was dealing with, and all the resulted was a startled child.  Now he has done it two more times, and it's getting more difficult for me to control myself.  Besides the fact that it's unacceptable for a child reactions to be physical, I think it's the fact that it's such a dickhead move that's really pissing me off.

I'm starting to think I need to have a talk to the boy.  Just sit him down and say, "Listen, if you hit Daddy again, Daddy's gonna hit you back!".  However I'm not sure what that would accomplish.  But I'm pretty sure it will make me feel better.  I'd like to think it would teach him consequences, but I'm dealing with a two year old.  How much of that lesson would stick?  Probably nothing, and then I'm left with as the guy hitting this kid for getting a little shove.

I was actually conflicted enough on it that I asked my mother for advice.  Her thoughts...

"You should not tell your son that you would hit him back.  What you need to do is, the next time your son hits you, is the time that you beat the shit out of that child.  You need to whip him so he learns to never put his hands on his parents again.  One good whipping is all it would take."

As much as I love her old school ghetto parenting techniques, I made me realize a couple of things.             

           1.  I realized the source of my fucked up parenting skills.
           2.  I really don't want to go to jail for listening to my mother.

Guess I have to make due, and hope this phases ends before I kill this child.  Guess the good thing is that since his little brother was born, we now have a spare son.  Just in case.

What The Hell Was I Thinking?

As a firm believer in tempting fate, I should have known better than to comment about my newborn only crying for a reason.  I don't know why I put that out there, but fate has come around and bit me right in the ass.  The child does not stop screaming.  Not matter what I do.  It's starting to drive me a little bonkers.  

I've been doing my best to decipher the cries, and so far here's what I've determined:

• He cries when he's hungry
• He cries when he's dirty
• He cries when he's wet
• He cries when he frets
• He cries when it's bright
• He cries when it's night
• He cries when put down
• He cries when carried around
• He cries so I go away
• He cries so I would stay
• He cries
• He cries
• Good God He Cries

And even though this is very Dr. Seuss, but it's 100% true.  Seriously, I mean what the fuck!  I'm starting to believe it's personal.  He doesn't go off the deep end with my wife.  I think he's realized that my wife is the feeder, I'm just the holder, and he screams until he's brought up to the buffet.

As for my other son, I spoke about his love of being a big brother.  That one came back around to screw me.  All it took was my son mumbling 3 little words...

                 "Baby, Lets Go!"

I turn around and saw my 2 year old, trying to lift the 3 week old, to bring him to the other room.  I don't trust this child to carry around an IPAD, so you can imagine my mindset when he's trying to pick up his brother.  Especially since we're still making the payments on the little guy (Thank you PPO's)

I should learn for the future to just keep my big mouth shut.  And in the meantime try to keep my sanity while this child screams all hours of the night.