What do you do when your child is throwing a tantrum in public? You leave, right? Between everyone with camera phones, and ready availability of child services, options to this particular problem are extremely limited. This was the dilemma I faced when my oldest started screaming in a mall the other day.
We're in Sears, and this has not been a pleasant trip at all. He was tired, he was screaming, and he was pushing my last button. So after his third screaming refusal to the notion of riding in the stroller, I got pissed. I got down on his level, looked in the eye, and sternly told him, "That's it, I'm taking you home!"
His reaction was to scream, "DON'T TAKE ME!!! NO GO HOME WITH YOU!!!"
To say this drew a little bit of attention would be an understatement. A just to paint the picture a little clearer, my wife's white. I'm not. If you take a good look at both of us, there is no doubt that I'm his father. But to the narrow minded passerby, I just look like a chubby pervert attempting to abduct a child.
So he's keeps screaming "DON'T TAKE ME HOME WITH YOU", people are starting to gather, then fortunately, he changed his song by one word"
"DADDY, NO TAKE ME HOME WITH YOU", "DADDY, NO!!!!!"
Thank one little word saved me quite the headache. At that moment I wanted to both kill him, and hug him. So I did what any other responsible father would do...
I carried his as under my arm, while pushing the stroller with one hand, yelling at him all the way until we got home.
Wednesday, August 6, 2014
It's been a long time...
It's been quite a while since my last post. Fortunately everyone is healthy and happy, and by some miracle my kids have managed to survive.
The oldest, is now three years old, and consistently providing new material. The youngest is now 8 months and not as demanding as he once was.
It's time to start this again, for no other purpose than my own sanity. If anyone reads it, I hope you enjoy my stories of ever escalating frustration.
The oldest, is now three years old, and consistently providing new material. The youngest is now 8 months and not as demanding as he once was.
It's time to start this again, for no other purpose than my own sanity. If anyone reads it, I hope you enjoy my stories of ever escalating frustration.
Tuesday, December 17, 2013
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!!!!
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!!!!
Thursday, December 5, 2013
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.
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.
Tuesday, December 3, 2013
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:
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.
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
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.
Wednesday, November 27, 2013
Parenting Goals
So my newest son is now two weeks old, and i've managed to keep him alive. I am feeling very accomplished as a father. This got me thinking about my goals as father.
I find the best way in raising my boys is to keep short term, attainable goals:
Goal #1 - Keep the child alive
Goal #2 - Teach the child how to stay alive
Goal #3 - Be patient until the child is old enough to tell you what hurts
They may appear silly, but it blends the are easy to accomplish and easy to determine failure. In addition to these, I do have some long term goals for my children
Long Term Goal #1 - Keep them out of prison
Long Term Goal #2 - Get the out of the house by 22
Long Term Goal #3 - Get them educated
Long Term Goal #4 - Prevent them from becoming strippers
Once again the may seem non-sensical, but if I don't meet any of these goals it'll be pretty obvious that I fucked up as a father.
Thursday, November 21, 2013
And Then There Were Two...
I honestly thought I was going to have it easier than I anticipated with two kids. When we brought our newborn home, and my 2 year olds first reaction was to give him some of his toy cars to play with, I thought that I had gotten off easy. I truly thought to myself "No jealousy? How did I get so lucky?". It was soon afterwards that I realized, I'm an idiot!
Jealousy may not be an issue, but I'm being driven insane by the sounds of two children crying. Between my oldest one's tantrums, and my younger one being a week old, someone is always crying. And if it's not the noise, it's the smells. My 2 year old has yet to be potty trained, so I am now changing the diapers of two human beings. One of whom craps like a man, and the other who shoots out this messy waste that finally stopped being black. Add in a small case of sleep deprivation, and you get a man on the verge of sensory overload.
And if all of that wasn't enough, with two kids and a wife on the mend from childbirth, all attempts to "relieve stress" are completely thwarted. Doesn't matter the time of day, as soon as you start looking to "relax", someone always seems to "relax"-block. It's honestly like living with my parents again. The sneaking, the same, the remembering to clear the browsing history.
So I'm a little on edge, and desperately look for a good nights sleep. However since I have a little rooster that goes off every couple of hours, it may be awhile until I get it.
Jealousy may not be an issue, but I'm being driven insane by the sounds of two children crying. Between my oldest one's tantrums, and my younger one being a week old, someone is always crying. And if it's not the noise, it's the smells. My 2 year old has yet to be potty trained, so I am now changing the diapers of two human beings. One of whom craps like a man, and the other who shoots out this messy waste that finally stopped being black. Add in a small case of sleep deprivation, and you get a man on the verge of sensory overload.
And if all of that wasn't enough, with two kids and a wife on the mend from childbirth, all attempts to "relieve stress" are completely thwarted. Doesn't matter the time of day, as soon as you start looking to "relax", someone always seems to "relax"-block. It's honestly like living with my parents again. The sneaking, the same, the remembering to clear the browsing history.
So I'm a little on edge, and desperately look for a good nights sleep. However since I have a little rooster that goes off every couple of hours, it may be awhile until I get it.
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