Awesome...really, really awesome.

I've been told that our kids are great...awesome even. I've stopped replying sourly with retorts like "yeah, but they can be butt rashes at home" and "it's a show. They beat and torture each other at home".

Last night as I was painting downstairs, Janelle was telling me a story about what happened that evening. I have trouble concentrating whenever I'm working in something with the possibility that I may be interrupted. So, as Janelle is telling me the story, Lily comes downstairs with that "I'm about to interrupt your interaction with a really unrelated story an you'll forget everything that is in your mind right now" look. So, as is common in our house, I gave the international sign of stay back an don't interrupt. So, she stood there bouncing and rocking back and forth while Janelle finished the following story.

Caleb's scout master leaned over and whispered to Janelle "Caleb is awesome! Really, really awesome." Janelle replied "thanks". I said something like "he's mentioned that before to me and it is really an eye-opener when other people say how well-behave our kids are."

Janelle opined that it is good that other people tell him this because Caleb thinks we say this to him because we are his parents. At this point, the conversation was finished and I said "Lily, what do you need?"

"Caleb came in like a flying ape and gave me a purple nurple"

Magic Underwear

First off, getting Noah to wear underwear was an amazing feat this year.  In fact, whenever he *was* wearing undies, he would show his mother.  We're such proud parents...

Anyway, we recently traded the Mustang for a Jeep.  Noah LOVES the Jeep.  All the kids do.  I believe that is because there are no rotting apples, wet clothes, melted candies, etc, like in the minivan, but I digress.  Last Sunday, I told the kids "if we don't have to spend all afternoon cleaning up breakfast, peanut butter on the ceiling, rotting socks, festering yogurt.....then we can take the top off the Jeep and maybe the doors too!".  Noah was a cleaning machine.  The other kids were simply mesmerized by the TV.  Later in the day after dinner, I declared that no one had cleaned anything and that we were not going for a ride.  Noah was beside himself.  I did not (up to this point) catch that he was a cleaning machine.  So I said, "while you clean up, Noah and I are going for a ride".

As we walk to the Jeep, I said, "you know...it's going to be cold with the top off...and when we get the doors off someday...you might...POSSIBLY have to start wearing pants"(he is in his jammies at this point...which is just a long shirt).  He said "I knew you'd say that...so I wore underwear".  Suddenly underwear has solved all the problems involved with cold.  I replied "So....underwear makes you warmer, huh?"
"yep................they're white too...."

Things I Never Thought I Would Say...

The title says it all. It becomes so common that you don't realize how uncommon these sayings are in the world(unless you are a parent...then you understand, but perhaps don't talk about it.) Therapeutically, I have posted SOME of the sayings here. As a comical sidenote, when I asked my wife if she remembered any, a SLEW of texts followed as if she had already typed them.

In no particular order:

-"Just where do you think you are going to put that booger?"

-"Go around the house and turn every light off in every room we are not currently in"

-"Unless you are going to eat that, don't bring it to the table"

-"When you manhandle the table and chairs at a truckstop, you essentially licking Trucker Butt"

-"...and don't lick the handicap handle in the toilet stall"

-"Don't crap your pants at the dinner table"

-"Noah, stop wearing your sisters dress and underwear"

-"PUT ON A COAT! It is 10 degrees outside!....SHOES TOO!!!!"

-"Stop throwing your underwear"

-"OH GREAT! I'm so glad someone left me turds in the toilet so I can see the regularity of my offspring"

-"Are you wearing underwear?"

-"Stop riding your sister like a horse"

-"Don't sit on your brothers head"

-"Don't pee in the cup in the bathroom"

Thus sayeth he

Hate is a strong word, but sometimes needed to quantify the level of dislike. With that said, I hate several things.

1. Talking on a phone
2. Talking on a cell phone
3. Talking to dudes on a cell phone
4. Driving. ("Period" is actually pronounced in this case)

I hate driving. Now that has been clarified, the story will make a little more sense. After 5PM at our house, we go into monkey turd mode, wherein Noah sings like gangsa rapper with a hearing problem, Caleb is overwhelmed and repeatedly saying "CHICKEN POT PIE" for some reason(I have no clue...I'm retarded too, so I actually understand the repetitious declarations of words...mine is "VINDALOOOOOOOO!"), Lily is incessantly mangling her hair, and Isabelle is pointing to all of her ailments(we refer to this as the "Boo-Boo Hour" as it ignites a torrent of "I'M HURT RIGHT HERE!" from every different child).

As you can see, it was OUT. OF. HAND. And I was driving. And it was well past 5PM. After more yelling and screaming and boohooing, I had to gain control(YES! I SAID IT...CON-FREAKING-TROL!) of the situation because it was a mad house in our car. So, I yelled "HEYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY! Quit down! Don't say a word! Do NOT say CRAP!"

At this point, in the rearview mirror I see Caleb lean over to Lily and whisper...yep, you guessed it...


"crap"

Sharing family stories

In Myrtle Beach, I was able to spend the evening with each kid. Lily
asked me to night about how we spent our summers. I waxed poetically
about the prices of this and that, how my brother would look after me
and such. We got up and met the rest of te family.

Lily, moved by the history and emotion of my stories, asked me to tell
the kids the stories. So I waxed, yet again(cue birdies and flute
music)...

As I finished up with, "...and my brother would look after me and make
lunh and take care of me", I hear Lily say, "who wants to hear my
whoopy cushion fart?!???!"

Rockin' the Paradise

This anecdote is several fold...

First off, I am a product of the 80's. Hair metal, Prog Rock, etc. With that said, whenever I talk about progress(or forward-ness) with my kids, I will say "were you rockin'? rockin' the paradise?". Over time, the kids have starting singing a little ditty to "Rockin' the Paradise" which closely resembles "Rockin' the Paradise" by Styx. So, as I downloaded it last night and let it rip, I hear my wife hysterical in the kitchen as Noah(the 4 year old) is dancing. Dancing like no one is watching. Dancing like a star. Dancing like he's the last person on earth. Just diggin' it...





After this, all hyped up, Noah realized he was tired. Once I put the kids in bed, I relaxed and finally kicked back. After about an hour, I hear what sounded like glass touching...little "tink, tink, tink" sounds. After yelling at the ceiling several times(that darned ceiling) I crept upstairs like a Special Forces ninja pirate to unleash hellfire and brimstone upon unsuspecting kids. As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I saw that Isabelle was out cold, Lily was leaning over the top of her bed with big droopy bags under her eyes and looking down. On the floor sat Noah...on a a pink princess couch/bed and he has his pillow and blanket and is ready to sleep there...so it seems.

I say, "What are you doing?". Seeing and hearing the gears turning in his head, thinking of how to retort, I ask again, "What...are...you doing?". Noah's little chin starts quivering and the voice starts wavering as he, in a moment of true Jedi-ness, says, "I told them not to let me in here"

Day One

Captains Log.
Stardate: October 5, 2009

First day as Full-Time Dad.  The day commenced with the early wake up.  Somehow, I ended up with a small child on the other side of the bed.  That child had twitchy feet.  I was up 12 minutes earlier than I should have.

I woke up and went down to the Bridge(aka "The Kitchen") to check all systems(aka "get my laptop") and set up my mobile command center(aka "moved my laptop to the kitchen").  After setting up the laptop, I opened up my calendar to follow the rigorous schedule left behind by the *real* captain(aka "wife").

I juggled making breakfast("toasting pancakes") with packing lunches.  My skin wretched as I handled the processed meat products("ham") on the sandwiches.

7:13   At the busstop("end of driveway")
7:18   Bus arrives ("PARTY TIME...DANCE FEVER!!!!!")

Breakfast for Isabelle and Noah("leftovers of aforementioned breakfast").  Running on treadmill(aka "emulating the gerbil").  Took Isabelle and Noah to Bloom for essentials("rubber hat, large foam finger that says "WE'RE NUMBER ONE", etc").  Fed grunions again, Isabelle to busstop.  Took Noah to Home Depot and Target for some downtime.  On the way into the store, Noah let out a real gut-busting belch.  I calmly say, "I'm so proud...".  I then hear "hello, Ryan".  It was some one from church.

Inside Target, Noah and I sit for some quality bonding time.  At this point, I felt like making him laugh...you know, trying to overcome all of my crappy dad moments from the last few years.  I began crossing my eyes in circles.  This is what happened:




I'm glad he didn't end up throwing up as I thought that was coming.  After coming back, we sealed the cracks in the pavement on the driveway.  After 58,340 times of telling Noah "don't step on the cracks, stay off the driveway", he road his bike over one.  "I didn't step in it", he said.  Semantics.  Just like work.

After that, we went for a bike ride(aka "the dad you see in all the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints commercials").  Once we came back, the rest of the kids got off the school bus.  Started dinner(okay, it *was* a bit early).  Cleaned kitchen, cleaned ceiling fans, ran sweeper, finished dinner, made exotic salad, cleaned up, had family home evening, sang songs, made sundaes, watched 35 minutes of "Sound of Music", said prayers, watched 15 minutes of "Ratatouille"), kids bedtime.

Now?  Finish laundry, fold mucho bel grande clothes and plan tomorrows endeavors.

On the block tomorrow:  the garbage people didn't take the old Wal-Mart armoire.  With a solid answered prayer, someone will have taken it tonight.  I doubt it.  So tomorrow, I will get the chainsaw or demolition hammer out to destroy that bad oscar.  Maybe strip the floors too.  3 years of wax on no-wax linoleum floors makes my heels stick to them.  Also taking Noah on a long bike ride with his Third Wheel bike on the back of mine.

Should be a hoot....

Fall from Grace...and ability

Coming home from scouts last week, Caleb was remarking that since mom was going to Michigan next week, I would need to take Lily and Caleb to practice, which was almost at the same time. The conversation went as such:

Caleb: "But you have to take Lily to soccer on Tuesday"

After 90 minutes of mind-melting cub scout screeching and hyperactivity, I was not wanting to think, plan, blink, argue, or get out my calendar, so I replied:

"I'll work on that next week, Caleb"

Caleb: "But I have practice at the same time too.....what if Lily is across the city, and I am on the other side?"

Still not wanting to think about anything and my mind already hurting inadvertently planning *how* I will do it, I reply:

"I'll just worry about it next week. I can't even think right now, don't worry about it, bud..."

Caleb: "I just need Deeeeeeeeetails."

Me: (getting a little miffed at this point) "Caleb, I used to help plan search and rescue missions, I think I can handle Soccer and Baseball practice."

Caleb: silent........."I need Deeeeeetails"