My Daughters, Derby Orphans

Quick!  Read this post before I go under again!  This Stay At Home Dad thing has me a bit out of sorts.

Up to this point, every time I've sat down to right a post, one of three things has happened.
1)  The girls have woken up screaming about how badly they wish me to make them a snack from food items that we don't have.

2) Their quiet play has made me suspicious and I have gone off to find that they have redecorated my front porch with handfuls of birdseed flung about in a manner that would put Jackson Pollack to shame.

We call this piece "Paternal Anuerism!"  It's an installation!

3)  I found a show of mild interest on Netflix or Hulu.

This past Friday was the premier bout for Westco Derby, the roller derby league that Sara joined and I am helping out with.  We were expecting about 200 people to be in attendance to watch how the ladies have progressed over six months of practicing.

It was closer to 700.  We had people in folding chairs, on the bleachers, and sitting on the floor to watch the girls race around and best each other in speed and blocking.  The event was even filmed and will be aired on a local cable channel!  At practice yesterday, we had nine new women who wanted to skate with us and two new men who wanted to ref.

When we began this thing in February, I wasn't sure where it was going to go, but I was very pleased that Sara was a part of it.  Since then, I've become involved as well, helping out wherever I can, manning the booth at the local arts festival, skating with the girls at practice and learning to become a referee.

My wife can kick your wife's butt!  Yes, that's a mohawk!

I adore the people who are involved in it and they seem to like me too, which I find bizarre.

Perhaps it's just my chronic low self-esteem talking, but I find it very odd that I now have a few circles of friends who genuinely like me for who I am.

The bottleneck of my involvement with the league has been, as it is with everything not related to children, children!  We've done what we can to get them involved too.

I am not losing sight of the fact that this is Sara's thing.  I am so proud of her for the progress that she has made in her skating and how much she loves it and the people.  For the most part, we are able to find sitters so that we can both go to practice, but when we can't, I take the kids.  It's much more important that she be there than I.  I recognize and accept that fact.  I don't want to change it and I certainly won't take it from her, no matter what.

But I'll admit that I don't like it.

I love skating, even though I'm about as graceful on wheels as you would imagine I would be.  I'm getting better, but I'm not anything close to good.

I love the group of people involved.  I they are a very positive and supportive group and I know it rubs off on me.  I know that after I've spent time with them, there is a little more sunshine in the world and colors seem a little more vivid.  Having this be something that I share with Sara has brought us closer together and made us stronger as a couple.

This is where I get into how crazy I actually am.

Intellectually, I know that I need to be happy with myself and accept me for who I am not be dependent on others for my happiness.  I'm not someone different when I'm with the derby people.  I'm just a version of myself that I like more.  It could be that, since I do like them so much, I'm on better behavior, not starting fights about religion or politics, and not making fun of anyone's lineage.  I don't feel like I'm putting in any effort to that effect, but it could be that I'm trying to impress them.

It could be that the positive vibes that they exude are so strong that I am much more willing to shrug off the things that I don't like, or would prefer not to think about.

Whatever it is, it's something I need to identify and hold onto with both hands because I need to push away my dark clouds.  No one can do it for me.

School starts again in a few weeks and I may be able to go back to more regular posts then.  As much I would love this blog to be a daily, or semi-weekly, I don't want it to simply be a chronicle of my daily life.

I do promise that I will soon write a more comprehensive post about being a Stay-At-Home-Dad.  This one went a bit off the rails on that front.

My excuses have bored her to sleep.

My Daughters, Tablets From Sinai

As I'm sure you all know, I am a deeply religious man.  I am constantly prostrating myself before the idol of irony, often involuntarily.  I would like to offer up the Commandments by which I attempt to live and parent.  I hope that they will be useful to you in your own spiritual journey through parenthood.

I will also state that I don't follow these nearly as often as I would like because I am a hypocrite and controlled by my emotions.

But I do try.

So, without further ado:

The Ten Commandments of Fatherhood

1) Thou Shall Suspend Thy Sense of Shame

You don't have to do this.  Really.  It's totally cool if your child grows up without imagination and thinking that you think everything they do is stupid.  It's important for kids to learn early that there is no tea in the toy tea pot and that Mr. Huggles doesn't walk around the house, crying, waiting anxiously for the child to get home from day care so that they can play together.  To this end, make sure that you never let your kid watch any animated movies, or really anything that isn't a documentary.  Even then, nothing from the History Channel.  You don't want them thinking about alien contact, or Stonehenge.

Wait...

I think I have that backwards.

DO ALL OF THOSE THINGS!  Creativity and imagination stimulate the brain and will give you smarter, more amazing children!  You spent your life up to this point building up your street cred for the sole purpose of blowing it all to make your kids feel good and be happy!

Why do you care if the 70-year-old in the sporting goods section of Wal-Mart thinks that you're crazy because you're making the peanut butter beg your toddler not to eat it?

So what if you're wearing miss-matched socks, one sandal, one rain boot, a fishing hat, a flannel shirt and biking shorts to return some books to the library?  It made your kid happy to pick out your clothes and, to be honest, I've seen your reading list.  When you take those books back, your wardrobe will be the least of your concerns.  (Side note: Checking out Fifty Shades of Gray at the same time as A Brief History of the Whip and anything by Mercer Meyer will get you funny looks no matter what you're wearing.)

2)  Thou Shall Abandon All Plans

They won't get done.  Kids don't care about your schedule.  They are no respecters of quartz-run Swedish time pieces, or atomic clocks.  They REALLY don't care what time the movie starts or when your reservations are for.  On the contrary!  They will save a massive diaper bomb all day in anticipation of your running just slightly late.  They know that your wife will spend an extra three minutes chatting with the babysitter and they plan for it.

At the 2:37 mark, they will unleash a torrent of unpleasantness that would have Andy Dufresne crawling back into his cell.  They also know that your wife will feel terrible leaving this crotch-strapped sack of unholy passive-aggression for the babysitter to deal with (even though that's part of what you pay them for...)

You are left with two options at this point:

1) Lie to everyone!  If the movie starts at 8, tell them it starts at 7:30.  If the reservations are at 7, tell them that the kitchen closes at 6.  Build a buffer into your plans.  A buffer of lies and deceit.

2) Resign yourself to the fact that your carefully planned evening, the first one with your spouse in 4 months, will end up with you eating  take out in your car, parked outside the house of a neighbor who happens to have a particularly large TV near a window.

Your choice!

3) Thou Shall Let It Go

Author's Note: I profoundly suck at following this one.

Things can be repaired, messes can be cleaned, clothes can be refolded.  Pillows can be put back on the sofa and beds can be remade.  Toys can be put back in the toy box.  Flour can be cleaned off of the kitchen floor and Vaseline can be cleaned off of the TV stand (eventually.)

Kids make messes and those can be cleaned up.  Accidents happen.  Deal with it.  If you can't, perhaps you should find a new line of work, like building hermetically sealed boxes.

This leads directly into...

4) Thou Shall Accept Responsibility For Broken Items

If your kids DO break something that cannot be repaired, or cleaned, or is prohibitively expensive to do so, IT'S YOUR OWN FAULT!

What were you doing letting her play with a string of heirloom pearls in the first place??  When the kids wake up, move your open coffee or orange juice away from your laptop!  Or better yet, put the laptop away from where they can reach it!

If you have a huge room of toys, your kid will find a hacksaw in the corner and only have eyes for that.  Children are hurricanes!  They start off with a nice refreshing breeze to lull you into a false sense of security, only to wait until you happily sunning yourself on the beach of parenthood.  Then, they bring rain, hail, 200 mph winds and pencils that can fly through telephone poles.

They will wreck havoc on your home, bringing shocking amount of destruction to certain parts while leaving others untouched.  They will level the neighborhoods of Yourstuff, Expensivethings and Itemsofyourchildhood and, miraculously, Toytown and Stuffedanimalville will remain unscathed.

It happens.  If your Faberge egg gets broken, it's your own stupid fault for leaving it where a toddler could get to it.  Take responsibility for broken electronics and family heirlooms with the following phrase: It's my fault, sweetie.  I should not have left that at toddler height.

With that said,...

5) Thou Shall Not Be Afraid To Destroy Thy Home

Kids adore using things for purposes other than what the manufacturer intended.  They want to use spatulas and spoons as catapults and they want to use diapers as hats.  If you can turn a regular household item into something fun, do it!  Worried about the mess?  See Number 3!  You'll have a great time and, more importantly, your kids will be tricked into thinking that you're awesome!

If you spend 10 minutes building a pillow fort and the kids want to knock it down and have you have build it again, YOU DO IT!

6) Thou Shall Abandon Nutritional Ideals

Remember when you were a child in a '50's era  TV drama and came in from playing baseball behind the old McNulty place only to find that mom had, once again, made a dinner you didn't want?

"Gee wiz, ma! Tuna casserole again?"

"Gosh, Tommy! I slaved all day over a hot stove and you'll eat what I put on your plate, or so help me, you're father will hear about this when he gets home!"

"I think it's just the tops, Mrs. K!"

"Thank you, Richie!  You're very polite! Tommy, you could learn a thing of two from this young man!"

Or something like that.

The point is, you'll plan all sorts of ideas for meals and your kids will throw all of it on the floor except the bread.  Balanced meals to a toddler only means that they don't overturn the high chair.  Offer them what you want them to eat, but be prepared for them to scoff at your choices, starting at birth.

"Curse you, mom!  I don't want left-boob!  I'm a right-boob only baby!"

7) Thou Shall Have Flexible Principles

Your kid does not care that you're a vegan.  They want what they want and they don't care about the ethics of farm-raised animals or fair-trade string beans.

I'm not saying that you have to abandon everything you hold dear, but you do need to develop a certain level of flexibility.

Before they were born, I swore I would not let my kids watch TV.  That did not work out so well.  The best I can do now is limit the amount of programming we allow them to see.

CHEESEBURGERS FOR ALL VEGETARIAN BABIES!!!

8) Thou Shall Remember The Age Of Thy Children

If you're trying to argue the merits of bed time with a 2 year old, you're an idiot.  Remember how old your kids are and make sure that you don't have unreasonable expectations of them.  To quote Louis CK, you must ask yourself "WHY? What is to be gained?"

All too often, I find myself asking my daughter why she is throwing food, or biting a doll, or yelling incoherently.

The answer is always the same: Because, dad, I'm 2!  I forget this WAY too often

9) Thou Shall Not Compare Your Children To Other Children

Your kids are amazing!  They are incredible!  If you start down the path of "Bill's kid is two months younger and can already Riverdance!" then you will make yourself nuts.

Don't even compare your kids to your other kids!  So what if one kid walked at 3 months and the other is just sitting there watching American Idol on her 3rd birthday?  Kids develop at different rates and have different milestones.

Besides, my kids are better, smarter, faster and cuter than yours anyway.

10) Thou Shall Chronicle Everything

Take pictures.  Take them by the millions.  Buy extra storage on your iPhone to keep them all.  Buy an external hard drive with 50TB of space and then buy another.  You can always go back and delete bad pictures, or ones that you are in, but you can never go back and take more.  Your kid will only 149 days old once.  They will only have 1 first birthday party.

Take videos.  If your kids is chatting away about unicorns and birdseed, put your camera on the table and tape the whole thing!  Video editing software has made leaps and bounds so that you can always edit out your cousins racist rant later!

You will not be sorry.

My Daughters, Future Globetrotters

This past weekend, I helped to chaperon the 8th grade field trip to Washington DC.  We took 61 8th grade students on a three day walking and bus tour of the major sights of the city, including, but not limited to, the following:

The World War II Memorial
The Lincoln Memorial
The Vietnam War Memorial
The Korean War Memorial
The Kennedy Center
The White House
The Capital Building
The Air and Space Museum
The Smithsonian Castle
The American History Museum
The Natural History Museum
The Sculpture Garden
The Holocaust Memorial
Old Town Alexandria
Arlington National Cemetery
The Martin Luther King Jr. Memorial
The FDR Memorial
The Jefferson Memorial

Needless to say, it was a lot of walking.  I love walking!  If I lived in DC, I would not own a car.  I would own a bike and a very nice pair of walking shoes.

This trip got me thinking about my own kids.


Before we had the girls, Sara and I talked about the summers.  Being a teacher, one of the advantages is that I have summers off.  If I can convince her to become a teacher as well, then the whole family can have summers off.

Many parents who have to work through the summer put their kids in summer camps full time, or keep a babysitter.

My plan is to travel.  When the girls are old enough, I want to pack them into the car, or a pull behind trailer, and drive.  Each summer we would pick a new destination and go, stopping at historical and interesting things along the way.  It would be a vacation, but the prime goals would be to have serious bonding time with the girls and to show them some of the amazing things that exist in our country and others.

They would help me plan the itinerary, calculate gas and food costs, plan routes and find fun things along the way.  I love this idea SO much that the thought of it helps me get through some of the tougher days when I think about leaving teaching altogether.

I will admit that I feel badly about the fact that Sara would not always be able to come with us.  We will plan mini-vacations on which she can and will, but I am feeling selfish about this.

The girls adore Sara.  If she is home, I am chopped liver.  My sole purpose in the house is as ... I honestly don't know what they think I am there for.

When Sara isn't there, I'm surrogate mom.  Harper even calls me mom on occasion.

I can be sitting with them on the floor, playing a game, or reading a book, having a great time.  Then suddenly, I find myself surrounded by toys and asking the pull-behind dragon why he is so angry at the stuffed monkey, only to realize that I am completely alone and talking to myself.  The girls have heard Sara's car, or seen her at the door and I have no more importance than a discarded cast member of Toy Story.

I don't mind.

I do, a little, but that's alright.  I understand the connection that children have with their mothers versus their fathers, especially in the early stages of life.

My revenge will served cold.

VERY cold.

Like, 8-years cold.

Maybe not 8, but when I think that the girls will be ready for longer car rides we're going!  We'll start out small, finding attractions where we would only have to stay over for one night, then work our way up.  I have huge trips in mind, like The Rockies, Oregon, and Alaska.  I want to take bikes and tents (even though I hate camping) and show them amazing things that can be done without a television or computer.

I want to take them to Canada, Mexico and anywhere the car can go.  As they get older, we may even do overseas trips, but I would much rather have Sara with me for those.

I know they will hate me.  They will complain about wanting to stay inside and watch TV.  They will want to lay by a pool, or hang out with their friends.

I know they will, because my parents tried several trips like this with me and my brother and we complained about everything.


I should have kept my stupid mouth shut and gone anyway.

The monkey can come too, I guess.

My Wife, On Her Birthday

It may come as a shock to those of you who read my blog and have never seen me doubled over in tears or yelling mean things at the mirror when the house is empty, but I have self-esteem issues.  Looking back on my romantic life, the types of girls I dated lined up almost perfectly with someone with the image issues that I have.  With a few notable exceptions, they were all very needy and in many cases lonely with abandonment issues.

This was wonderful for me because while I don't think I'm needy, I do need to be needed.  I gravitated towards women that I could support and hope to "save."  I think part of it is because the chase was more fun, but it was more the idea that if she needed me, she would be less likely to leave.

Of course, this almost always was a terrible idea.  Things ended long before they ended, but because of codependency issues on both parts, we rode them out to the horrid, bitter end, screaming at each other on a Friday night, her about how I hate her friends, me not screaming much at all because secretly, I'm glad it's finally ending, saving me from the hazards of trying to break up with a lunatic with abandonment issues.

Almost 9 years ago, I moved outside of my comfort zone and stated dating someone new.  She was completely different from all of my previous girlfriends.

She didn't NEED me.

But I hoped that she wanted me.  She found me funny and charming, but she was happily established in her own life with her own friends.  She wasn't looking for a savior, or someone to replace a previous beau.  She wasn't even looking for a boyfriend.  She was smart, funny and made me feel good to be myself.  I never felt as though I had to impress her because she liked me for who I was, instead of what I could take her away from.

I did my very best to the gentleman.  I wasn't playing a role, but was calling on the little bit of gallantry that I have inside me.  On our first date, I showed up to pick her up and her parents house in a shirt and tie with a rose in a fishbowl.  I came inside and met her parents who, frankly, scared me a bit.  I wanted to make a good impression on everyone but I felt like I was suddenly in high school in a movie from the early '50's, asking permission to please take Peggy Sue out for a malted, and yes, of course I will have her back before curfew.

The date went well.

During the spring semester of our senior year, we took a class together and I thought that if she still liked me at the end of it, we would be perfect together.  It was a sociology class and because I was studying economics and because I'm a bit of a jerk, I figured I might be slightly obnoxious in the class.

That turned out to be true.  How dare I ask for sources for the data that was being quoted!

My new girlfriend didn't leave me.  She was a keeper.

After graduation, I got a teaching job outside of New York City and moved to New Jersey.  For two years, we lived 300 miles apart and still saw each other at least twice a month.  I drove out and stayed with her and her family, she drove out and stayed with me, but for the most part, we were separated.

Somehow, we weathered the distance and, I think, it made us stronger.  I finally had had enough and moved back and we moved in together.  She supported me emotionally and financially while I floundered to find a job and go to grad school.

At Christmas in 2006, I asked her to be my wife and she showed her terrible taste in men by saying yes.  In two weeks from Saturday, we will have been married for 5 years.

It has not always been perfect, as nothing ever is, but it has been amazing.  I am constantly amazed by how deeply I love her and how deeply she loves me.  Our relationship has evolved and changed over the years, as things always do, but always for the better.

We have two gorgeous children, and as I have said before, no matter what happens, I will always be in her debt for giving me the gift of my girls.  I am so thankful for everything that has done and everything that she is.

She is my rock in stormy weather, my partner, my heart, my love.  I am not worthy of such an amazing woman.  I am stronger for having her at my side and there is no one in the world with whom I would rather spend my life.  I look forward to retiring to a small farm with her where we can keep chickens and sheep, have fresh eggs in the morning and I'll read on the porch (if books still exist) while she chases the sheep with knitting needles, screaming someone about sweaters.

Today, she turns 30 and, as much as I joke about hoping to die young so I don't have to grow old, I very much look forward to spending the next 30 years together.  I want to be the old couple at a wedding who is the last to sit down during the anniversary dance.

She asked me last night about my post-30 goals and I told her that I didn't want to think about it because it only reminded me about the things I didn't do in my pre-30 years.

I did think about it last night though.

My post-30 goal is to spend the rest of my life living with and loving my wife.  I want to raise our children to be happy, good, conscientious citizens, to retire somewhere where we can watch our children and grandchildren grew up and be happy.

She is one of the most amazing people I know and I am honored to be her husband, even though I don't always show it.

Happy birthday, Sara.  I love you.  You are my life and the other half of my soul.  I am not always the best husband, but I love you with all of my heart and I will never stop striving to be a man worthy of being your husband.

My Daughters, Making Me A Liar

I, rightly or otherwise, pride myself on a  certain level of honesty.  If not the whole truth, then I try to offer at least a very thick coating of sugar.
Does this dress make me look fat?  Of course not!


Why is my child failing your class?  He has fantastic potential but needs to work a little bit more on his focus and work outside of the classroom.
Did you forget my birthday?  No! I have something planned for later!


I always told myself that I wouldn't lie to my kids when it came to difficult topics.  When they ask about where babies come from, I'm planning to tell them the truth: babies come from sexual relations between a man and a woman, or between a test tube and a syringe.  When they ask about relationships and boys, I'm planning to tell them the truth: boys are selfish and only want to hurt you, that every word they say is a lie and the only men who can be trusted are me and their grandfathers and uncles.


When they ask why they have to go to bed, or eat breakfast, or not run, I do my very best to give them the reasons.  I want them to know that there is a rationale and a reason behind the directions that we give them.
I don't ever want to be the parent who resorts to "Because I said so."

Don't interrupt mommy when she's with Aunt Merlot

This is another piece in my grand scheme to be the greatest parent ever!

I have discovered two snags in this plan.  The first one was anticipated.

Harper has reached the stage of "why?" with a slight modification.  She often asks "why not?"

Harper: Popsicle?

Awesome Dad: No, baby.  We're going to have dinner soon.

H: Why not?

AD: We're going to have dinner in a little bit and I don't want you to spoil your appetite.

H: Why not?

AD: Then you won't eat the healthy food for dinner.

H: Why not?

AD: Because you'll be full of popsicle.

H: Why not?

AD: ...That question is not grammatically appropriate.

H: Why not?

AD: Well, mostly because there was nothing in my statement that was a negative.

H: Why not?

AD: (Goes on answering these questions ad infinitum)

She does have times where she repeatedly asks why and when I follow them all the way out, I usually end up giving a mini-lecture about particle physics or the historical background of World War I.

I am giving serious thought to keep a list where I write down the topic of conversation at the start, where it ends up and then offer a prize to the person who can make the connection, 6 Degrees of Separation-style.

After 6-8 minutes of answering "Why" I usually stop the conversation by replying "You don't really care why and you don't remember what we're even talking about!  This is why I drink!  Water, that is!"

"I know she's going to ask me something today!
Time to set up my exit strategy!"

The second snag in my "always tell the truth to my kids" plan has been Sara.

We went food shopping today and, of course, Harper gravitated towards the impulse buys in the check-out lane.  She grabbed everything off the shelf, one at a time, thankfully, with a cheery smile at her mother and a "Want one!" on her lips.  Had she asked me, my response would have been "Not right now, sweetie.  We're going to go home and have dinner."  Or "No, dear.  Those are not good for little girls."

Sara however, when presented with said little girl asking for a packet of Reese's cups, replies with something akin to "EW! Those aren't candy! Those are made of rubber!  Icky!"

An understandably confused Harper put them down and picked up some sort of Skinny Cow Turtle candy.  To this, Sara said "You picked a cow poop!  Look!  It has cow poop inside!"


Some piece of candy got the answer "If we eat those, they will put us in jail."  Seriously.

I was anxiously awaiting "Those make baby Jesus cry!" as it seemed to be quickly approaching.

I suppose I should be grateful that she asks these questions instead of pulling the candy rack onto the floor and making an M&M's angel.

I know as soon as Sara reads that last sentence, she's going to start thinking about how we could clear out a section of the basement and run to Sam's club to get all the M&M's they have.  I love my wife.

"You can't still my heart! It needs to sing!"

"Brynn, you are so immature!"

"Come at me, bro!"

My Daughter, Forcing Me To Break Gender Roles

Parenting is not an exact science.  If you follow this collection of (mis)adventures in parenting, you'll clearly be able to tell where I have made mistakes.  One of my ulterior motives for this blog is so that, one day when the girls are in therapy, I can link these posts to the doctor and not have to pay for hours and hours of background information.

Perhaps one of the things that the shrink will find interesting is that I'm trying my hardest not to raise "girly-girls."  I don't think there is anything wrong with a girl who wants to dress in pink and play with Barbie.  If she comes to those choices and preferences on her own, no problem.  I do, however, have an issue with parents imposing gender roles on children who are too young to know any better.  Do it to your own kids if you want, but not mine.

Then again, imposing gender roles may have stopped this from happening...

With that said, Harper LOVES having her toe nails painted.  She knows where Sara keeps the bottle of polish and will go get them when she sees that her toes are "nated!"

Those of my readers with children, or who been in the armed services, will understand the concept of collateral damage.  This is where an event occurs, either good or bad, and there are unintended consequences that reach beyond the scope of the original plan.  For example: When someone who shall not be named insists on keeping the Sharpies in a drawer that happens to be in the reach of a child, the walls, carpet, furniture and sanity in the house are all collateral damage.  For other examples, check out Stuff My Kids Ruined.

About a year ago, Harper got a hold of a bottle of nail polish and our floor became collateral damage.  It wasn't a big deal, but some of the grout on the kitchen floor is now a lovely shade of red.  Sara was more upset because she can't find another bottle of that color.

When Mr. Treesworth isn't stealing from the bird feeder, he runs a very successful foot spa!

I'm home on my own for many hours this weekend as Sara is taking the girls to a wedding and I have other things that I need to do.  I tell you this as a preface for why all the girls got their nails painted this morning.

In this particular instance, there was collateral damage.

In this particular instance, the collateral damage was my dignity.



I have to go put socks on now, not because I'm embarassed, but rather because the flashes of bright colors at my feet are quite distracting and I keep walking into walls.

I'm consoling myself on the fact that I didn't have to listen all about Sandy has been in a committed relationship with Trevor, but is still messing around with Jackson, even though she promised him she would stop after Bethany woke up from her coma and had her baby.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Martin.  I'm afraid that she may never "bang" again!"

I take it back.  This blog is to save money for MY therapy.

My Daughters, Forcing Me Into The Open Air

Recently, the weather has been amazing.  This is both a blessing and a curse.

"A CURSE?!?" You say.  "What is wrong with you??" You say.

"You sure are talking a lot for this being MY blog" I say.

I love the computer.  I love the internet.  I love my phone.  My wife doesn't quite understand my feelings on this particular topic, mostly because she was raised with a healthy appreciation of **shudder** going outside.  I feel dirty just saying it...

I've talked previously about my aversion to dirt and sticky textures.  I don't like them.  At all.  I'm not worried about the germs.  I just don't like the feeling.  Going outside often leads to getting dirt on one's hands, stains on one's clothes and color on one's complexion.

"Looking good, Justin!"
"Thanks, Powder!"

This has lead me to a fairly sedentary lifestyle that relies heavily on technology.  Part of this is also because I'm constantly afraid that I'm going to miss something.  What happens if I'm not on Facebook and someone posts a status to which I have a very clever comeback?  If I miss it, I COULD DIE!!!

I own 30 copies of this t-shirt.  None of them are true.

Until relatively recently, I have felt as follows about the seasons:

Since having children (or more precisely, having two), weather falls into one of three categories:

1) Weather nice enough to take the kids outside

I enjoy this weather!  Not so much because I like being outside as much as I recognize that there are HUGE benefits to taking the kids there.

They are much easier to manage outside.  Yes, Brynn keeps trying to walk to the bottom of the property and down the sidewalk.  Yes, Harper wants to pick poison ivy and pet dead rabbits.  Yes, Brynn wants to eat rocks.  Yes, Harper wants to ride her toys down the front steps.  Yes, they both want to hug every stranger they meet.

They are still easier to manage outside.

Also, the lighting is better for taking pictures!

Rocks, Daddy!  Rock pocket!

As I have also stated previously, taking the girls outside wears them out.  They sleep better and go to bed easier after having played outside.  Knowing that I'll be spending the summer with them as SAHD (that's Stay At Home Dad, for those of you still living in 2010.  Jeez!  Get with the times!) I have set up a schedule that involves as much outside time as I think I'll be able to stand..

Wake up
Get dressed
Take them to daycare/go for a long walk/go to the park
Lunch
NAAAAAAAAAAAPS
Play outside
NAAAAAAAAAAAPS
Dinner
Walk
Caillou (Why, God?  Why?)
Sleep
Dad to the gym

We'll see how this goes.



2) Weather NOT nice enough to take the kids outside


This is mostly rain, but also includes days that are too cold/windy/hot/wet/smoggy/sunny/etc. to go outside in whatever clothes they happen to have on.

I am no good at planning weather-appropriate clothing for my children.  I know that you are supposed to dress them however you would dress yourself plus one layer, but that doesn't work for me.  I'm almost never cold so if I went by that, they would be wearing windbreakers in December.  Also, I am WAY too lazy to try to find a slightly warmer/colder jacket than whatever happens to be sitting on the chair.

3) Weather NOT nice enough to take the kids outside, but awesome to watch from the window


This may be my new favorite!  I've always loved watching snow storms, thunder storms, wind storms, hail storms, storm drains, storm troopers and pretty much everything with "storm" in the name!

People only like me when they make typographical errors.  Or are racists.

The girls love to sit on the backs of the couches, or out of the porch, and watch the storms with me.  They are slightly scared, which makes them hug me tightly.

I don't think it makes me a terrible person that I like my kids to be slightly scared so that I get hugs.



I'm looking out the window now and thinking "What a gorgeous day!  I'm so glad the weather has become beautiful!  I suppose that means I'll have to go enjoy it.  Damn..."


The moral of today's post?  Kids change every aspect of your life, whether or not you realize it.  If they don't, you may be doing something wrong.

"Of course I can talk!  Sometimes I just feel so lonely in this empty house!"