Monday, December 26, 2011

(Husband/Father) Post Christmas

Christmas is over.  I hardly know what to say about it.  It's a crazy time of year and I don't think you can truly prepare.  Being with family is great and watching the kids open presents is awesome.  Daisy and I spent our honeymoon in Disneyland 13 yrs ago and are now going back with our two boys.  We presented them with this knowledge two days ago.  The reaction was somewhat anticlimactic.  The video we took showed confusion.  Much silence passed before Fire said, "Are you kiddin'?"

If this post seems somewhat halted in nature it's because I don't know what day, date, or time it is.  I don't really know who is in our home or if we are actually in our home at all.  I don't know the last time I drank water but am pretty sure I drank flat Pepsi an hour ago.  I would pour it out but I don't want my 98 cent liter to go to waste.  Breakfast consisted of Chocolate pebbles.  Is that with Fred Flinstone on the box.  It was the healthiest thing I have had in 3 days.  How can the most wonderful time of the year be so horrible to my body? 

I fell asleep on two different couches and a floor in 3 homes.  I think I have taken several showers but have found myself back in the same clothes.  The only way I can make sense of this phenomenon is that the clothes were the nearest to me when I dried off.  It was either laziness or faith in my former self to put some laundered items on top of the toilet for easy access.  I tried exercising by going out to the car for gifts or to put gifts back.  Going out to the car for food (sugar) and putting leftover food (sugar) back into the trunk.  I figured there were enough times to offset a cake ball the size of a raisin.  Then again, I did have to pick up a child to place him in time-out so we would have to count 3 calories for that one too.  But was it my kid?  Maybe my relatives just let it go because they felt sorry for me. 

"Well, it was actually Beast that hit Tommy but maybe Goose thought it was Timmy."

"But Timmy is outside."

"Good point.  Does Goose even know Timmy?"

"I don't think so.  Furthermore, why is Goose putting Timmy in the "Time-Out cupboard"

I really don't want to sound like a martyr.  I know Christmas is not easy on everyone.  But I am coming to the realization I am a man of routine.  Trying to force routine into a chaotic entity can be done, or tolerated, in small doses.  But the Christmas season is its own animal altogether.  Is this how Scrooge came about?  Was he once a pleasant being who finally needed a break?  What if he went to the cave up in the mountains just to get some peace and quiet and ended up staying too long? 

Speaking of too long, I love writing this post and wished I had more time to do it.  Hope you are all enjoying the joy of the holidays. 

Crap.  Fire just woke up from his nap.  He will either want a cookie, show, or toys.  Preferably all at the same time.  Because that is how Jesus would want it.

Monday, November 21, 2011

(Husband) My Untimely Death

When Daisy was playing competitive soccer.  Well, when is she not? Breaking a girl's jaw in City League?  C'mon Daisy!  I'm completely joking.  Anyway, she would wear the same socks the next time she played a game if they won.  It got to be a little gamey in the apartment when they were on a streak.  Just kidding on that one too.  I think.  I'm pretty sure she washed them.  But they were the same uniform so what would be the difference if they won or not if she washed them each time?  Whatever.  Personally I think baseball players are the worst.  They are all so friggin OCD.  Do you see how many times they strap and resstrap their batting gloves, adjust their caps and.....other things?  One pitcher saved his fingernail clippings in his locker.  Maybe hockey players too.  Their beards are pretty nasty deep into the playoffs.

I'm getting off track.  I'm not a superstitious person.  Maybe that is why I'm not great at sports.  Unless I'm playing against 5th graders.  And even then I wasn't exactly dominating on a court at the beach playing them.  I 'm going to go with the ol' I thought I would trip over them excuse.  I'm I off point again?  Why did I have to mention the beach?  It gives credibility to the story because I remember it well.

So I'm not superstitious.  Until six months ago when Daisy mentioned Life Insurance and nominated me as the one to sing us up.  I was glad to oblige.  We had just bought the house, the school debts were needing attention, and we have two kids.  If I died it would be a burden until Daisy found a new husband a couple of months later.  But a burden none the less. 

But then something happened.  And I'm sure you have seen this coming.  I didn't want to do it because it would mean I would then die.  I commute rural roads about 45 minutes to work on Thursdays.  Those drives began to get a little stressful.  Especially on the curves, in the dark, and when it was raining.  With a slow tractor in front of me.  With people passing.  Does it really have anything to do with an irrational fear?  Yeah.  Because I could feel death breathing down my neck reminding me of the the life insurance.  I would picture my running off the road and Daisy picking up the phone.  After the police explain what happened she would cry, gather herself, and say, "Thank God we got the life insurance figured out.  Man, that was providential."  But no.  It was BECAUSE we got the life insurance I died.  "It wasn't an accident!" I would scream down at her as they handed me the harp and halo. 

Recently I saw some good friends on several different occasions.  More than usual.  "Much more than usual" I thought.  They would invite me and it would be rude to turn them down.  What if they had a feeling that was unconscious?  I didn't make the initial contact so it was something outside of my control.  It was in death's control and he was just being nice to me.  Or mean.  Maybe he thinks I'm getting a little cocky by getting life insurance.  As if it will protect me.  I have to show him respect.  Come to think of it.  Maybe I should show Daisy a little more respect.  What if my death isn't coincidental?  What if the life insurance suggestion was a little too forceful?

I'll be honest with you.  That, "Live each day as if it was your last" is not exactly comforting.

Monday, October 31, 2011

(Father) Turning Tricks into Treats

We can't say Halloween for some reason.  I think it has to do with the fact that it satan's day.  Just like Christmas is Jesus' birthday so we can't say Christ.  Not that Autumn Festival or Winter Holiday is not just as awesome as the other labels.  It just suprises me that people actually give a damn.  Because a rose by any other name is still a rose.  We still celebrate it as we would any other thing.  At least I hope we would.  I don't want to say Christmas because there could be a chance I would become a Christian or at least be perceived as one.  And I can't say Holloween lest Satan scream in delight at our honoring him in such a respectful way or that the mere mention of the word Halloween would cause people to worship him.

I dont have the names of Holidays up on my top five agendas so it may appear silly to me.  I'm sure there are things people could poke fun of and I would frown, stick my lip out, and pout for a cuple of minutes.  But for this I don not write.  I am writing about candy.  I have heard about car truk candy give-a-ways where kids roam around a parking lot and receive candy from people who have backed their car up to create a cirle of cars in a designated parking lot.  They decorate them in such a way as to inspire, even the cold hearted among us, to be thankful for waht we have.  Hold up, that's next month.  I think it is meant to keep kids safe and to receive candy from people they know.  I also like that you don't have to walk as far. 

I think there should be new traditions like egging houses that have their porch lights off.  They are obviously not giving out candy and should be duly punished for being unprepared and or in oppostion toward cute little kids who

There is something seriously wrong with this computer.  I'm going to throw it out the window now.

Thursday, October 27, 2011

(Father) It's me

I get my kids out the door 4 out of the 5 weekdays whether it be to the park, school, or daycare.  It's not easy and sometimes I don't leave as early as I would like.  Picking out the "socks that don't feel funny" or refusing to put their seat belts because "I don't know how" when they have done it a hundred times before.  I will show up to meet a friend and say, "Sorry, getting the kids out the door was a little more hectic than usual".  I receive a sympathetic, "Don't worry about it.  It's a hard job" and then we go about our activity.

But I have realized something.  I am the problem.  One, it is their job to push the limits.  It is unfair of me to expect complete obedience to my requests.  I am not talking about defiance that deserves time-outs.  I'm talking about grumbling as they slowly move about a process they don't want to do.  Why should I expect them to feel the pressure of getting somewhere when they are not motivated to be there in the first place.  It's like the way we might show up 10 minutes late to work.  Two, I try to get as much sleep than I possibly can.  I think, "Maybe if I am really on top of things I can get 10 more minutes of rest.  Besides, they are quiet and watching cartoons.  They really don't want to be disturbed either."  Snooze button hit once unrealistic compromise has been made.  They are the ones that have woke up early.  Not me.  Three, I have failed to do the prep work the night before.  "I really want to watch the rest of this show so I don't have time right now.  Besides, I need my rest.  Please refer to snooze button explanation.  Four, I can't get them ready and then spend time getting myself ready at the same time.  I also can't get them ready first and expect them not to get into trouble while they are waiting for me.  Of course I can't have a close shave when every 10 seconds they are in the bathroom asking, "Can I have Ice Cream?  Beast is hitting me!  Fire just took his shirt off! Fire just went outside! Can you read us a book?"  Frustration will come.  And what if they really push the limits and a punishment is in order.  A three minute time-out is three minutes we don't have.  So empty threats come out, for extra compliance of course. When those don't work then you have to unempty the threat and follow through.  Another three minutes of throwing the blanket down the garbage disposal plus a tantrum.  I end up putting the seat belt on them which just reinforces their expression of incompetence and feel annoyed on the way to wherever because of the sucking sound on the dino-vitamin because my patience level has reached maximum capacity.

My bad friends.  So when I show up at my next thing a more appropriate explanation is the kids had a hard time getting me out the door.  But I'm not going to do that.  Because it is easier to blame them for my problems.  Just like they will in their future therapy sessions.  It's a win win.

Monday, October 24, 2011

(Husband) Daisy is Evil

I'm on our old computer that just took almost a half an hour to load up everything.  I wonder how much time we wasted just getting to our e-mail alone.  Daisy could have spent her time getting her Masters Degree don't  Whatever.  Anyway, she is using our good computer to watch Parenthood, which I guess is a good show for thirty something parents.  Now that I think about it, there was a show when I was young called thirty something.  We are at an interesting age.  But that is not why Daisy is evil.  She is evil for so many more reasons than I can mention but this is one of them.  She makes cookies that are very good.  Now I purposely stayed away from the, "My wife makes the best cookies ever!!! You have not tasted a cookie until you have tasted hers.  Your wife, mother, sister, or daughter would burn their recipes and hang their heads in shame if they were to even smell the cookies from a half a mile away."  I stayed away from saying it because it is annoying.  But I have to be honest, I can't think of many I like better.  We went through many recipe's over a number of years until we found the recipe we have now.   We figured out if we took the cookies out when they were hot dough they would turn out really well when they cooled down.  That way, we could eat the fresh dough, hot dough, and then the baked dough that has cooled. 

I will try to eat the dough when she is mixing it and then when she is putting it on the baking sheet and then when they are in the oven, out of the oven, on the cooling tray, and then the finished product.  I will eat roughly ten of them and then feel sick to my stomach.  The next day I will not have learned my lesson and will eat some for breakfast and pack some for lunch, a snack when I get home and for dessert after dinner.  I will hide them from the children by eating them when they are playing.  If I need to come out for any reason I will hide it behind my back or leave it in the kitchen with a napkin over it.  If they see any kind of movement in my mouth that looks like anything related to a chewing motion they will ask what I am eating.  I won't lie but we will share a cookie together like a big happy family.  I will give them each a quarter and I will get a half.  When they protest I will trump them by saying daddy is bigger.  I will then tell them I don't need them on any kind of sugar rush.  Today I came home and there were three cookies left.  A good husband would name them Daisy, Beast, and Fire.  I had Daisy's because I knew she would understand.  But the other two have been screaming at me from inside their little Tupperware container.  Taunting me like a little schoolgirl.  Pulling my pigtails and sing songing, "You can't get me!" Flapping their hands while sticking their their thumbs in their ears." 

I hate those cookies.  Hate them.  And I know that I shouldn't think this but they really are the spawn of Satan.  Now you say, "Goose.  That is raising your hate to a while 'nother level.  And it sounds like you are calling your wife Satan."  I'm not saying she is Satan but perhaps she is possessed by him during the time she is making them.  All I know is that once the last two are eaten I will want more.  And Daisy will make excuses not to make more just to increase my temptations.  And I will curse her.  And when she suggests I can make them, "your own damn self" I will give a short chuckle and say back, "You'd like that wouldn't you." and go off to sulk.  It's just a bad cycle and she is to blame.  And that is all I have to say about that.

Thursday, October 20, 2011

(Father) Love for them from you is love from me to you

I can't believe how long it takes me to log in.  I have tried every which way but basically I have to create a new password every time I want to post a blog.  Which means I don't have any time to write now.  Which means I am very angry.  Which means I'm going to throw this computer out the window even though it is not her fault.

Basically, I don't care who you are, where you have come from, what you have done, and how you act toward others as long as you genuinely, sincerely, and in the most healthy of ways, love my kids.  I will, in turn, love you.  I think that is why people don't let the people they date meet their children.  Because that person will bring an awesome something to the kid, the kid will love the person, and they will persistently pester the parent to have the person they are dating back for dinner because that person is the most awesome person in the world.  And if the person acts as if they like the kid back and they end up having a blast when they are together and maybe even have their own outing without you then they have no choice but to marry them.  Because that is what I would do.

Monday, October 3, 2011

(Father) Monkey Beast

The kids were going nuts today.  They are little basket cases if they are prevented from gong outside.  Living in the NorthWest has it's disadvantages in that area.  I would much rather have snow falling from the sky then rain dripping from my chin.  So, when it looked like it was simply very cloudy we took our chances walking to the park.  Made it!  There was only a simply structure with nothing else around it.  It was the closest park and I had never taken the children.  A 20 foot high structure that held an entanglement of ropes that came down like a pyramid.  With the kids standing next to me it felt like a lot higher and the ropes a lot smaller than when Daisy and I happened upon it a couple of weeks earlier.  Besides that, it had rained and the ropes were much more slick.  It took Beast 2.5 seconds to climb to the second tier.  I was in between STOP! and allowing him to be a boy which meant holding my breath and looking like I had just smelled bad eggs.  My stomach was turning in knots as he was almost skipping up the treacherous tower of death.  I am not kidding when I say it was 20 feet.  I used to play a lot of basketball and could touch the rim at 10.  Standing on the 10 foot high rope gave me another 10 foot high perspective. 

I was holding myself back from being the overprotective parent but the chances of Daisy asking me 20 questions left me choking on CAREFUL! I could see her asking me probing questions as we sit next to Beast's hospital bed that would leave me stuttering for answers that would never be satisfactory.  But when Beast reached the very top he said the famous last words of, "Hey Dad!! Look at this!!  I looked up and saw him standing on a rope without any hands on anything else.  My words whispered it of me.  It was like a dream where you are trying to run away from Satan but are stuck in the mud.  If I yelled he would startle and fall and if I didn't say anything then how could I answer question 2?  It was only two seconds until he leaned toward the pole and caught himself but it feel like eternity.

Beast is the child you see doing completely dangerous things and you wonder if the parents are negligent in watching their child.   I'm at the bottom of whatever apparatus he is climbing to catch him when he falls.  The thing is, he instills a bit of confidence in me because of the calm he exudes while he doing these crazy things.  Today he climbed a 30 foot rock wall, with harness of course,  but let go of one hand and leg to look around to see me.  I want him to do active things and not suppress what seems to come so natural but dear God please don't let him die before I'm gone...................please?