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I Designate Friday as Golden Shower Day

May 16, 2012 //
4

Last Friday I had enough.  Enough crying.  Enough barking.  Enough cleaning.  Enough playing house.  When I was a child, playing house was nothing like this.

It was more like:

Wifey – “Welcome home honey!  I baked you some fresh bread and started a bath for you.”

Hubby – “That’s great! But before dinner, let’s feed the kitty, walk the dog, and churn some butter.”

And we all lived happily ever after!

On Friday, the proverbial shit hit the fan and the real shit hit the carpet.

But, let’s start a few days prior.  Enter Wednesday, the hors d’oeuvre.

I thought I had everything under control until my back went out on me.  Yep.  Kaput.  I couldn’t stand upright, sit down, or lay down without sharp, searing, nauseating pain.  (It was three orders of magnitude worse than giving birth, ok?)  My entire lower back was as hard as steel.  (Why can’t my abdominals be like that?)

We added a third dog, Looney (aptly named), to the house just after my back fell apart.  (Steph and I had agreed months ago to pet-sit a friend’s dog for four days while they were on vacation.  It just so happened to start today.  Seren-f-n-dipity.)

And since the gods weren’t quite done pissing on my mortal soul, they plugged up our kitchen sink.  We tried Drano as if, just this once, it would actually perform as advertised.  (Does Drano ever work?  The foaming version?  Nope.  The gel version?  Nope.  The extra strength version?  Nope.  The mystical, magic crystal version?  Nope.  Drano only seems to open the drain in my wallet.  I digress.)  Naturally, the plumber couldn’t come out until Friday morning.  (Do you sense a bit of foreshadowing?)

Thursday was hellacious, but nothing like the day after.  Enter Friday morning, le plat principal.  (In case you were wondering, entree doesn’t translate to main course anywhere except for America.)

The plumber is coming this morning.  I go to the kitchen to clean up before he arrives.  The dishes from the past two days are piled next to the sink and as I get closer, the backed up drain smells faintly familiar.  Oh yeah!  It smells like a dumpster in here!  Super!

Worm is still in bed sleeping (off some vodka cranberry we goosed last night), so I take the opportunity to pick up toys off the floors.  Every Friday is vacuum day.  (I vacuum in Speedos the color of my vacuum cleaner, if you’re after some mental eye candy.)  I look down at the carpet in the front room and there’s quite a few new stains showing.  They must be fresh because I don’t remember them from yesterday.  I look closer.  Oh, they’re chocolate stains.  Which one of the damn dogs smeared choco-noooo!  This is dog shit!  And it’s everywhere!  Double super!

I’m irate.  How stupid can these dogs be?  There’s probably 3 piles of shit in the whole backyard.  WTF?  Aren’t dogs supposed to smell shit a mile away?  How could they step in it?  Don’t they look where they’re walking?

I go to the living room to ponder what to do next.  And what do I see in the living room?  (You know this is not going to be good either, right?)  It’s a large puddle of yellow-orange vomit on our awesome leopard print rug.  Triple super!

At this point, we’re only 7 hours into Friday and I need a drink.

The plumber gets to the house around 8 and Duncan starts barking his head off.  The baby wakes up from the ruckus crying and screaming.  Looney sneaks outside to fence fight with the neighbors’ dogs.  So, I’m screaming at Duncan to stop.  The neighbors are screaming at Looney to stop.  The dogs must have sensed my weakness because they just looked at me and laughed.  The chaos went on until the plumber left an hour later.  To make a long story short, I spent the entire morning scrubbing, washing, cleaning, bleaching, steaming, fuming, panting, bitching, moaning, screaming, and almost sobbing.  I even missed my stay-at-home dad’s day at the tavern, which I’d been looking forward to all week long.

Last Friday, I was pretty damn close to spontaneously combusting.  If I had, I’m sure the gods would have surely pissed on me then.

Worm, I Am NOT a Disney Land Ride!

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Daddy’s Broken. Could Frodo Save the Day?

May 9, 2012 //
0

There’s one body part that I’ve just realized to be extremely important when caring for my toddler, a strong back.  My back decided it was through working for me today and resigned immediately.  Without back muscles, I’m about 2 inches shorter.  And even worse, I’m walking like a 90-year-old man.

I guess you’re wondering how I’ve been managing the Worm with a bad back.  I can’t lift Worm, I can’t carry Worm, I can’t wrestle with the Worm.  He’s starving because I can’t even feed him.  Ok, I can feed him…but just barely.  (Which is probably NOT going to be a valid excuse when we go back to the pediatrician for his weigh-in next week.  But, that’s a different story.)

I don’t know why my back has deserted me.  Maybe it’s telling me that I need to give it less A-B-U-S-E and more T-L-C.  It’s amazing how much I use my back when caring for a kid.  I lift the Worm about 30 times a day.  He always wants to be picked up and carried from here to there.  The amount of gear that comes with kids is equally back-breaking (pardon my pun).  So, on top of carrying around the Worm, I’m lugging around twice his weight in gear.  (Maybe I should reconsider helping Worm gain weight.  It doesn’t look to be  a win-win situation for all of us.)

What I need is a horse.  Or a dog that is willing to carry our kid stuff.  Wait a minute!  What about Frodo?  Aren’t Siberian Huskies bred to carry stuff?  Maybe what I need is a sled and a whip?  (Once again, the wheels are turning and my brain cells are firing.)  If sledders can get a Husky to mush across Alaska, I can surely get our Husky to mush out to the car in the driveway.  Now, I just need to build a sled…

For now, I’m using heat, massage, and acupuncture (thanks Dayna) to fix my muscles.  Until I’m better, Steph’s going to have to take care of both Worm and I!  (I look at this as a good family bonding opportunity…Steph, I will ‘let’ you rub my back tonight in the name of quality family time!)

Tips to Keeping Your Back Healthy For Your Baby:

  • Always lift with your legs
  • Try to keep your back as upright as possible when lifting
  • Keep arms in close towards body when lifting
  • Try not to lift and rotate the torso at the same time.  This is a good way to herniate a disc in the back.  Lift first.  Then rotate.
  • Exercise abdominal muscles to strengthen core  (Strong abdominals provide support to the back muscles.)
  • Stretch daily.  Stretching keeps the muscles loose and working to full strength.  Cobra pose, pigeon pose, camel pose, etc…try yoga!

Follow these steps and carry your baby until he or she turns 18!

Mush! Mush!

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Songs From the Shower – The Poo Incident

May 1, 2012 //
0

It’s one of those days,

A busy-ness haze.

There’s no time to rest!

There’s no time to graze!

—–

It’s quarter to nine.

And not normally when

The Worm gets his nap,

Which is around 10.

—–

Dinner last night has

Won over my gut.

It’s making some noise

To get out.  Now what?

—–

Worm can’t be left un-

watched in the abode.

I’ve gotta go bad,

Or else I’ll explode!

—–

My only option

Is for Worm to view

His dad on the can.

How awkward! Pee Yew!

—–

I hope that Worm is

Not scarred yet again.

By watching me do

Something quite un-zen.

—–

Worm, forgive me for

Forcing you to be

Locked in the bathroom

With my poo and me!

Look, Maybe You Shouldn't Bring Me in The Bathroom With You Next Time. Ok?

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Songs From the Shower – You’re All Grows Up

April 12, 2012 //
0

You’re one year old now,

What does that mean?

A whole lot of crawling

Is what I’ve been seeing.

—–

I can honestly say you’re

Not hiding from life.

You’re exploring and growing.

Should I find you a wife?  (Or is it still too early?)

—–

Three hundred and sixty

Five days since you’ve come.

I can handle it better

If given some rum.  (and maybe a calendar…Wow, a year already??)

—–

I touch the bath drain

Watching water, like time,

Flow through my hands swiftly

Like life.  Is that grime?  (It’s time to scrub the bathtub.  What can I say?)

—–

Next year you’ll be two

And where will I be?

Teaching you how

To stand up and pee (in the shower.  I can’t wait for that!)

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Daddy Time Starts at 5:30am

March 24, 2012 //
2

I finally got out of the house!  By myself!  As I said before, it’s been a couple of years since I’ve been able to really mountain bike.  It used to be my favorite way to start the weekend.  For the first time in a long time, the opportunity presented itself.  My lovely wife told me that I could break away this Saturday morning to go ride as long as I was back before breakfast.  She didn’t have to tell me twice.

The View of the Grasslands From Above

I set my alarm for 5:30am and was out the door by 6.  The sun hadn’t even come up by the time I hit the trailhead and I was the second one there.  (The first guy looked like he slept in his car.  Awesome idea!)

There’s something about being on the MTB trails in the early morning…like the lack of people!  The air is fresh, crisp, and unadulterated.  If you’re lucky, you can see rabbits, coyotes, and even deer (like I did today!)  Although if luck broke my arm or leg, I could come across some wildlife I’d rather not see.  Falling lame in the middle of this terrain could quickly turn you from biker to breakfast for SoCal‘s largest land predator, the mountain lion.  I crossed my fingers that I was too skinny for any cougar to waste his time on.  I definitely wasn’t too fast for one.

Ahh, No One Around For Miles

As I rode today, I reminisced about my past.  Years ago, well before baby and wife, I would ride for hours on the weekends and do nothing more important than find my next meal.  Those were the days before I met responsibility.  Obviously, things have changed.   Responsibility and I have every meal together now.  Like the skin on my body, we know each other well.  But, this morning I left the house before responsibility arose.  My reward?  I got to reenact a portion of my previous life for a brief couple of hours.

2 hours alone on my bike was just the ticket for me to recharge and put things in perspective again.  I cleared my head as quickly as the trees blurred past.  Afterwards, I felt like myself again.  But, not like my old self sans responsibility.  Like my new self, complete with obligation and duty.  Because in truth, my previous life that I experienced this morning was a likeness in emotion only.  Nothing more.  I can’t turn back time, nor do I want to.  I love my wife.  I love my son.  I love my commitments and occupation as a husband and a new father.  And I couldn’t wait to get back to them and share a nice family breakfast together.

If you are in the San Diego area and you enjoy nature, the Mission Trails Regional Park is a nice place to visit.  There are tons of hiking, biking and horseback riding to do.  The visitor center is kid friendly and if you’re teaching your little one to mountain bike, the Grasslands part of the park is a great place to start!

For more information about the park, see the link below.

Mission Trails Regional Park

For more information about mountain biking in San Diego:

Mountain Bike Bill’s Website

San Diego Mountain Biking Association

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I’ve Been Replaced…By My Own Mother!

March 20, 2012 //
0

Before my mom came, I was the Worm’s go-to guy.  Every time I would walk in the room, it was like he was seeing Tebow (I’ve added an MVG glossary in case you don’t understand what I’m saying) parting the Red Sea.  Worm would run (ok, crawl) over to me as fast as he could and then touch my big toe, which is his way of saying “Pick me up, daddy!”  I would sweep him up into my arms and we would both laugh together while “The Lion King” theme song miraculously played in the background.

Now that my mom’s in her fourth week of visiting, my glitter is gone.  I walk into the room to see Worm and he doesn’t even turn his head.  If he does look up and happen to see me beaming at my only son, he dismisses me with his “You look familiar, but I’m not sure who you are” face.  So, I stand and watch my aloof son and lament that even at this young age, he is living the old phrase “out of sight, out of mind.”  Even more sad for me is that when we do interact, I am the one forcing the connection.

I exist as a human baby bib now, gladly wearing vomit, snot, and other juices (both of body and of fruit).  But, I’m eager to accept the role because it means he still finds me useful in some way.

It’s true that I’ve been spending less time with Worm.  I planned quite a few non-baby oriented tasks to take care of while Gavin’s grandma was here.  Fix car, work on business development, clean desk, organize garage, etc.  My BB uber-productive self returned and I had been excited to get some “work” done.  So, off I went every day tending to my own affairs.  And when I disappeared for hours, Grandma fed, changed, and played with the Worm.  Subsequently, I was erased me from the boy’s short term memory (Isn’t it all short-term memory for him?  I mean, he’s only been alive for 11 months!) and replaced by Grandma.

It’s hard for me not to be the almost center of Gavin’s world (right next to his purple spatula).

Worm With His Two Best Friends

But, his indifference towards me is a sour reminder that my “work” priorities are no longer priorities and some things have to be let go.  Family should come first unless you value your happiness, freedom, hygiene, quietude, personal space  is how the saying goes.  I need to rearrange my to-do list for fear of becoming a total stranger to Worm.

Worm, here I come!  I’m going to be in your face from morning to night!  I’m going to play with you until we both drop from exhaustion.  I’m going to be there all the time, even in your dreams!  I may even become the voice of your subconscious and your higher self!  We’re going to be best friends again even if  I have to stalk you like Duncan stalks me!  I promise!

Worm, thanks for reminding me that I can’t forget about the little people.  I guess I needed that.

Gavin – 9; Dad – 5

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Duncan, The Love Stalker

March 13, 2012 //
0

A certain dog in my house needs more affection (I’m talking about you, Duncan) than the other (like you Frodo, who probably wouldn’t even notice our absence if we dropped you off in the neighbor’s backyard for a few weeks).  Lack of affection and attention on the first dog results in things like counter surfing and pillow shredding.  Lack of affection and attention on the second dog results in his blissful happiness.

Ever since the baby arrived, the affection doled out onto the dogs has gone from steaks to scraps.

The pre-baby hierarchy of affection received (from the big fish to little fish) went like this:

The Totem Pole of Affection

And that worked out almost perfectly for Duncan.  Once we added Gavin to the mix, everything and everyone got pushed farther down and rearranged….

The new hierarchy looks like this:

Who's the King Now?

As you can see, the Worm gets most of the affection these days.  He averages about 4x the affection of any of the rest of us.  Is that a crime?  (Not for Worm!)  But the other members are getting restless in their ranks…you can see it on their faces!

Especially Duncan.

Duncan’s attitude has degraded.  He now tries to do everything he can to earn some attention from me.  He stares at me for hours now just hoping I make eye contact.  (He’ll do it to the point of falling asleep standing up.)  I could be walking around the house and wherever I turn, Duncan always seems to be standing in front of me.  He will sit and lick my leg obsessively like I’m a giant grape lollipop.  (I can’t help but feel uncomfortably weird after 30 minutes of licking and there’s no sign of quitting.)  Weimaraners are a needy breed, but this neediness is on a whole other level.  It’s escalated into “I want to bathe in your sweat” stalker level!

It’s creepy to be stalked from morning to night.  (But, A small part of me thinks it’s kind of cool to be so desirable to someone.)  I’ve got to find a way to spend more time with Duncan without neglecting the baby.  I just wish they had the same interests.  How easy would it be if I could just throw a frisbee to each of them in the yard, or let them each chase squirrels in the canyon?  (Wouldn’t that be awesome if I could train teach Worm to catch a frisbee in his mouth?)  If I don’t come up with something soon, Duncan’s going to kill me, stuff me, and shove me under his dog bed so that he doesn’t have to share me with anyone else and we can be together forever and ever and ever.

I hope it’s not too late.  I can already see the crazy in his eyes.

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