Tuesday, December 11, 2007

My Boys Favorite Things 2007

Sports Teams:
Indianapolis Colts
Tampa Bay Buccaneers
NY Jets
Rutgers University Scarlet Knights - all sports
NJ Devils
NY Jets
Rutgers University Scarlet Knights - all sports

Arctic Monkeys
Monster Magnet
White Stripes
Jon Spencer Blues Explosion
Arctic Monkeys
Led Zeppelin
White Stripes

Mac and Cheese
Peanut Butter and Jelly Sandwich
Cheddar Cheese
Mac and Cheese
Sliced Strawberry and Cream Cheese Sandwich


sword fighting
martial arts

TV Shows:
SpongeBob SquarePants
Curious George
Danger Rangers
Zula Patrol
Curious George
SpongeBob SquarePants
Peanuts / Charlie Brown

Superheroes / Villians:
Black Spiderman / Spiderman
New Goblin
Human Torch
Mary Jane
Green Goblin


Sunday, December 09, 2007

Drama King

My five year-old is a bit of a drama queen, or king, or more exactly drama prince, anyway one day every situation we found ourselves wound up with him either whining or crying, so at some point I asked him, "How do you turn every thing you do today into a crying fit?" To which he answered red faced and teary-eyed, "Daddy, I'm just like that!"
Well okay then.
Our cat died a few weeks ago, and it was pretty sudden, we had been really busy with family events so unfortunately I wasn't able to fully perceive how far along she was, but she didn't eat well for a week I changed her foods, that worked for another week, then she barely ate for a week, and that was it.
Two years ago she almost passed away but I took her to the vet daily for a week and got her hydrated via an IV, at mid week the vet was like I've never seen a cat with "numbers" as poor as your cat's, maybe it's time to put her down, but my wife was on a business trip and I didn't want my kids to have to deal with their cat dying while their mother was away, so I just kept bringing her back to the vet and she bounced back so I figured it would be the right thing to do to bring her for IV again, since she wasn't eating or drinking water. I was really worried because I could tell she most likely didn't have much longer to live and I would rather she died with her family around her, but if I didn't take her to the vet and she died I would be mad at myself because I didn't try every last thing, particularly when the IV brought her back from death's door last time.
Well I sent her to the vet and she didn't make it back, so I felt pretty crappy that she died without her family because they sent my wife home while they were giving our cat the IV.

My boys really made me proud, my kindergartner was really compassionate to our cat, she was really laboring to breath and he sat by her and sang a really soft song to her which relaxed her to the point where I got nervous because she then was barely breathing and I wasn't sure if she'd be about to muster up the energy to breath more normally again.
Right before my kindergartner and wife took our cat to the vet for the last time (she didn't make it back home) my toddler came rushing over and said, "Wait Daddy I've got it," and pulled out our play doctor's set and tried to treat our cat.
The older boy has a pretty full understanding of what it means to die and so he took it harder, the little guy still asks when is "Whinnie is coming back?" To which I say she's lives with God now, and It's really great there, and try to be convincing as possible.

Toddler tales

Some things my 2 year-old son has said recently that I find amusing:

"Why are you so angry?" Dude you're right I don't know, I totally need to mellow out.

His idea of toilet humor, I was changing his diaper and he was cracking himself up as he said,
"I'm going to draw your penis, and then I'm going to draw my big bruvee's (brother's) penis."
I guess his preschool art class is a little more advanced than I realised when I signed him up for it.

Again changing his diaper and he was upset when I was trying to put his pull-ups on over his privates, "No Dada don't put on diapee, I playing with my penis!"

Washing Kisses

I just kissed my toddler good night and noticed that his cheeks tasted like cake, so I got a wash cloth and wiped his face, which made him upset, which isn't surprising because he always gets upset when you wash his face, but he was saying something different from his normal protests. As I listened more closely I began to decipher something about kisses, and washing, oh he was saying, "You're washing my kisses away," as in I was negating the kisses I just laid on his cheeks by wiping his face.
So I gave him a second round of kisses and all was well.

Monday, December 03, 2007

DAF - Die Lüge

Tuesday, November 06, 2007


I'm not sure if I'm reading it right because my 2 1/2 year-old won't stop asking me for things, but it looks like this just means that they are following the labeling laws and listing any dangerous ingredients on the label, or listing a phone number. The problem is we have all of these crayons that have that listed on it, but not the boxes they came in, this is because they come from those 4-packs they give you at restaurants to keep the kids quiet, so basically look not only at the crayon, but the box to make sure they are not toxic!

Wednesday, October 31, 2007

Gun Free Kids

GunFreeKids Legislative Scorecard
Seems like a cool organization, plus I like the idea of making legislators who support and take money from the gun lobby accountable.

Thursday, October 25, 2007

"I look cool / Do I look chubby in this jacket?"

My kindergartner always tells me when he gets in trouble at school, which is pretty rare, and also when other kids get in trouble, which is good because we have an idea of who we don't want him to hang out with, and it's setting a good precedent for the future, when the kinds of trouble kids are getting in is less cute or innocuous.
So he starts telling us about one kid that we know gets in trouble, who his teacher in fact has decided to not let our boy sit with because he prompted my son to tell some girl that she's not pretty. Which was the only time he's really gotten into trouble.
Anyway he's telling me how this kid called him poopy-something or other and pushed him. I ask if he told the teacher, he says yes but it was clean up time so the teacher didn't do anything about it. To get the whole story from young children you have to ask them the same question a few times often in different ways because they don't necessarily understand what information you are trying to get out of them. So I again ask why did he call you names, and my son answers, "Okay I'm looking in the mirror saying, 'I look cool' (as he reenacts smiling and pointing at himself in the mirror) and then he called me a poopy-head and I didn't stop looking in the mirror, then he pushed me."
Oh, I understand now.


My son has a cool Timberland jacket that he's been wearing since the weather has finally begun to cool off, so while we are driving to school today he asks me, "What does chubby mean?" so I tell him it means a little overweight, a little fat, but knowing that a question asked never comes from nowhere I ask him why does he want to know. He's like I just want to know, and I tell him it's okay to tell me, did he see something on TV, or did a kid at school call someone chubby?
He answers, "Okay, do I look chubby in this jacket?"
Me, "No! did someone tell you that, you're the least chubby person in our family." (He's lucked into a thin yet muscular physique)
Him, "Who's chubby in our family?"
2 1/2 year old son yells his own name in response to the who's chubby question, which is slightly true.
Me, "No one's chubby, but you're totally not chubby at all."
5 year-old, "No not me, I mean the jacket, do I LOOK chubby in the jacket?"
Me, "No you don't, your jacket is cool."
Him, "Okay."

Tuesday, October 09, 2007

Daddy, Am I Going to Die?

My Five year-old asked me when is he going to die.
I was like I don't know, heck maybe you won't die, maybe you'll go to heaven, so it's like you don't need your body any more but your soul lives on, so you can't really be dead then can you? Well at least that's what a lot of people think, and that's what they believe at the church you and mommy go to, but really nobody really knows.
"But you know daddy right?"
No I don't know, but I hope that's what will happen. Who told you, you were going to die, or did you just figure that out on your own?
"I just figured it out."
Oh, I don't know son, hopefully you'll just go to heaven.

Now I've noticed his wheels turning when we talk about humans and animals dying, and I knew that eventually he'd figure it out, and judge me if you must, knowing that I lean to the agnostic side when I'm not leaning to the Buddhist side, but I'll be damned if I'm telling my five year old that he can look forward to a life of trials, tribulations and travail* to be rendered meaningless by an inescapable death, I don't mind the idea of being worm's fodder, or turning to vapor and becoming one with the universe or whatever bullshit we tell ourselves in place of the self deluding comfort lies of religion, but I'm trying to give my son a few years before he crawls up his own arse via his inherited inclination for neurotic introspection.
Honestly sometimes I'd rather he live deluded and happy having some all encompassing lie that explains away all the evil and contradictions of the world, rather than being a compulsive seeker of truth, when the truth is life is pain and suffering that has to be accepted and overcome somehow without becoming totally numb.
Of course I don't really want him to run around totally deluded, because that will leave him easily lead by the likes of televangelists and politicians, and possibly result in his viewing others as "non-believers."
I hate that idea of "non-believer" I remember a co-worker saying, "Oh that's right you're a non-believer," to which I answered, "No, I'm not a non-believer, I believe in things, they are just different things than you believe in."

*travail is french for work

Student Family Housing?

So I'm doing research into getting a Masters of Social Work and have learned that only a few schools in my college rich area offer MSW's. One of the schools is my Alma mater, which has two campuses in my general area, and another one that is one county south of where I live, anyway, I'm looking at the requirements of the one county south one and it says I need to have taken classes in biology and statistics, which I have no recollection of taking, I vaguely remember one Senior Psychology course that involved statistics, but no straight up statistics courses and no biology since high school, so shit am I going to have to go back to college to go to grad school?
(I've had a reoccurring dream all of my life where I'm about to either start college, or graduate from college and somehow they missed that I didn't complete some course work in High School or Middle School, depending on the dream, and I have to go back as an adult and take classes with kids. That would be totally weird if I would now actually have to go back and take undergrad courses, I'm nervous enough as it is about going to grad school pushing 40, under grad courses with 19 year-old's is not how I pictured launching my mid-life career change. My other reoccurring dream for years was that I was going to die in a car crash, so I hope this isn't the start of some kind of trend.)

So I go to my Alma mater's web site, search out the transcripts page, fill out the info, they have me on record, which is cool that they transferred files from the dark ages into their current system, but what comes up but a note about there being a HOLD ON MY TRANSCRIPTS, having something to do with the Department of Student Family Housing? What the fuck, I went to college for an extra year after I moved out of University Housing, why wasn't I made aware of these issues then? Shouldn't they have held up my diploma or something, isn't that what they do when you don't pay parking tickets and shit like that?

Yikes, now I'm starting to vaguely remember getting some kind of notice from the university about some kind of fine or something that I went down to contest and they couldn't find it or something and just let me leave without paying anything ... honestly this is a super-fuzzy memory, a lot has happened since 1992, so I can't be sure of how on point this memory is, either way, now I've got to call them and have them track down what these two ancient holds on my transcripts are.

I can picture it now, "You have two $50 fines to pay, but with 15 years of interest that totals to ... $7,780, payable in person by travelers check or money order only."

Don't they know I'm the one of the least motivate people on earth, and hurdles might as well be great walls of China so far as my inclination to scale over them.

Wednesday, October 03, 2007

20Gs is 20Gs

I'm pissed off, we put an offer on a house that is a block away from our townhouse, it's beyond the top of our price range and I'm not sure how our finances will work out if we get the place, as in our day to day finances.
I told our realtor to bid $X00,000 which was 19,000 under what they were asking IF there were no other bids on the house. She said that they said they were expecting two other bids, so we upped our bid by 20,000.
It turns out that no other bids came through, but she didn't double check before putting in our higher bid.
Now they haven't accepted our bid because it's contingent on selling our old place, which the sellers don't like, plus they are nervous about whether we have the money in place to pay, to the point of asking about how much money we make and asking about our credit rating.
We were approved for a loan, and we have a deposit that is well over 20%, so I don't know what the fuck they are stressing about, I wonder if it's because I'm a stay at home dad? I wonder if I was the one who was a compensation manager at a huge ass corporation rather than my wife, and if she were the one who stayed home if they would be stressing so much about whether we can pay or not?
They may just be greedy and expected their house, which is really nice, to be the object of a bidding war rather than just getting one bid, I don't know, I just know that that combined with our realtor not doing her due diligence has me in a pissy mood, plus I don't really feel like moving / selling our house during the Fall, which is my favorite season.
Our house is a disaster and will take literally weeks to get into shape for a good "showing," which means tons of work on the weekends or not getting what it's worth because it looks like shit.
I have to weight this against the house being a decent deal for the money, though since no one else bid on it, it makes me feel like a sucker for bidding 1G over asking price, though it was done on false pretenses.


Lots of heavy things going on, which you could tell by the fact that I haven't been posting very often. That of course sucks because I miss out on recording a lot of intense moments, but I guess it's better to live life first hand rather running up to my computer every time I feel an emotion, like people who spend their vacations behind the lens of a camera, video or otherwise, so worried about capturing the moment for posterity that they miss out on experiencing the actual moment in real time.
blah blah blah

So while I was feeding my two and a half year old son I was listening to WBGO, the straight jazz station. My son says, "Is this the music upstairs that I go to bed?" at first I didn't get it, but then I realized he was talking about the jazz music, because I put WBGO on "sleep" when I put my boys to bed, so he was asking if this was the kind of music / or the music station that he hears when he goes to bed, which was really cool.
I guess he noticed because I usually listen to the jazz station upstairs and sports radio or Air America when I'm in the kitchen.

Monday, September 17, 2007

soccer mommin' the ozone / oh my back / does anyone else find not having a job somewhat terrifying?

i'm super soccer mom chauffeur now, wake up at 6am, 8 am, drive my K-gartner to school, next if I haven't had time to stretch that morning I take the the toddler with me to the chiropractor because my back has been totally fucked up after the occurrence of a really disturbing extended family matter, ie. mucho stress + bad dreams = crappy sleep, speaking of which add to that a couple of weekends in a row out of town and not on my fancy Tempur-Pedic mattress and pillow which I've become addicted to, so now every morning I wake up, my back is on lone from a 67 year-old day laborer and if I don't stretch or go to the chiropractor or get a massage it takes about seven to eight hours for my back to loosen up.
Anyway I pick my K-garter up at 2:25pm, then take the toddler to an after school program* cross town at 3pm, and also at 3pm take the big boy to taekwon-do on Monday and Wednesday & soccer on Friday, it's amazing how I can clone myself and be in two places at once, the good thing is that my house is in the middle of all of these activities so if necessary and if we don't get caught in traffic we have about 5 to 10 minutes in which to do a drinks, uniform change and bathroom drive-by. Also the after school pre-school program, the soccer bubble and the dojang are all in the same part of town though not a walkable distance from each other, god I drive a lot now, there's some public transit where I live, but not for this kind of in-town shit, plus kids on public transit = a major pain in the ass.
I stay at the big boy's activities rather than driving home for 20 minutes and then driving back, then a couple of hours later at 5:30pm I pick up the little guy from his program, so again, for someone who drove like once every 5 to 7 months for 13 years this is a lot of driving.

*do to the fact that my wife and I are too lame to check our answering machine, particularly when we are out of town, I missed a message about my toddler making it to the head of the waiting list to go to pre-school full-time, which would have given me many many more hours of "free" time to research, pick, apply and go to grad school during the daylight hours, plus more time for my household duties, but for some reason we're too important for phone messages so we missed out on that opportunity. Oh yeah, we were on the waiting list even though we could have gotten him signed up in advance due to his older brother attending the school, but at first my wife didn't think we should pay for him to go full-time pre-school if I wasn't attending full-time grad school, and my easily abandoned stick-to-it-tiveness and anemic persuasive powers didn't push the matter, so by the time my wife brought up the idea that it would be helpful if we sent our toddler to school full-time the program was full-up.
I actually think it's better for him to start part-time anyway though, being the "caregiver" I've gotten kind of use to subjugating my larger artistic and career aspirations to the needs of the family, and surprisingly after a rough year or two, I'm much more at peace not trying to accomplish anything grand outside of the home, life's ridiculously busy, and in someways less fun, or I should say less adult fun-ish, but I don't trip out on supervisor, co-worker, getting ahead bullshit, so it's a fair trade-off.

The two stressor / fears I do deal with are, sometimes it's terrifying not having career, no less a job, like what the hell would I do if my wife died? Where's all the insurance papers? I think I'd get enough in survivor benefits to pay off the house, or was that the benefits from her old job or new job, well her new job is like a year-old now. I haven't had a real job in five years, and I wasn't on the fast track even then, would I have to just take what ever job I could get to make ends meet, then I'd be a widow with two kids and a crappy job, great prospects there, I'd need to go to grad school to actually get moving on a career that I was interested in, but if I was the sole bread winner, we couldn't afford for me to go to grad school, plus therapists with MSW's don't make a whole lot of money, would I have to do something totally different? And forget trying to date with all of that shit going on ...
The other thing that I fear is since things are going pretty well for me and kids with this stay @ home dad gig, and like I said I'm pretty at peace with myself and my situation, family, wife etc., whereas the whole rest of my life I compulsively questioned every aspect of my life, "did I chose the right school, town, wife, job," no matter if things were going well or not, I'm afraid that changing everything now may lead to me being less satisfied with life, and being a worse parent because I wouldn't be able to devote the vast majority of my energies to it, plus for the foreseeable future my wife would still be working her mega-pharma-corporate job, so she'd still be working daily overtime and be totally physically and emotionally spent at the end of 3 outta 4 work days, so the kids would definitely be getting a lower quality of parenting once I started grad school and later began work. Add to that the fact that our kindergartner breaks out in hysterical tears at the mere mention of my going to school or getting a job, "I don't want you to go!" "But buddy, I want to help people who need it, I'll be helping them to have better lives," "I don't want you to help people, you're suppose to help me!" and honestly it goes on like that for a few hours after the subject is ever broached.
Lastly another less pressing fear, how we are going to see to fruition my wife's desire to down-size her stressful career to something more manageable,while pursuing her other dream of super-sizing our house while staying in our very very expensive town, all while I still have no desire to take on the stress of a high paying corporate career, if I even could at this late date?

Friday, September 14, 2007


My 5 year old son is now in kindergarten, his school is known for having a number of international students.
Apparently there is a french girl in his class, and he told my wife that he was trying to "speak french to her" which means the made up faux french babblings of a five year old, and she didn't understand him, I can just image the confused look on the face of this little girl in her first week of school in a new country while my mini Casanova kicks his best Pepé Le Pew verbiage in her direction.

He asked Mommy what he should do and she told him that Daddy speaks much more french that she does, so he asked me what he should say and I came up with "bonjour mademoiselle."
He had yesterday off, so he's been practicing that phrase for the past 36 hours and turned it into a mantra on the way to school today, so here's wishing him bonne chance in his endeavors into international preschool affection.

Tuesday, August 07, 2007

Anti-Social Germs

I just noticed a very old note that I'm not sure if I blogged about or not,
In my big boy's first year at preschool, I taught him to was his hands every time he came home.
He didn't like doing this so he asked why he had to do this everyday, I told him because there are germs at school, that's why kids get sick so often, the kids bring germs to school, they all play together and then they bring new germs home, and germs are what makes a person sick.

So for a couple of weeks I notice that every time I pick him up at school he's playing by himself, I eventually ask why I don't see him with other kids and says he's afraid of their germs.

First Day Back from Non-Relaxing Vacation

On my first Monday back home after 10 days visiting family on the other side of the country, I had some weird dreams culminating in one about my 5 year-old wetting the bed on three consecutive nights.
The very few times that this has happened in real life I try not to make it a big deal, but in this dream world after not making a big deal the first time, the second night I couldn't impress on my son the importance of his not wetting the bed and by the third occurrence, after he seemed totally unbothered by his bed wetting and unreceptive to my cajolings I snapped and slapped him across the face numerous times resulting in red markings all over his face.
So soon after that dream i woke up as I usually do after having unpleasant dreams, I'm not use to the multiple time zone change yet, so it's like 4 a.m. to me and I think I better hit the shower just to fully wake up, something I don't usually do before taking my son to day camp.On the way i hear some rumbling in my boys room and go to check on them and notice that my 5 year-old's underwear look dark, oh no, I check and he wet his pants, shirt, teddy bear, and bed and pillow to a lesser extent.
My two boys sleep together (when they slept alone they would join my wife and I in bed in the middle of the night about 3 out of 4 nights, now it's down to about 1 out of 3), so I check my 2 year old and he's still asleep seems dry so I put him in my bed so he doesn't roll over into the wet sheets and so i can strip the bed.

Great now a load of pee laundry and a change of sheets is added to my first day back list of chores. I get my big boy undressed and ready to shower when my wife gives our youngest a good-bye kiss and says, "Oh, his hair smells like pee," great, by now already late for day camp, and still not fully awake I have to give both the boys showers and the time consuming and often tearful washing of the hairs.
So I wake up the 2 year-old, pull him in the shower, wash 'em both up, do big boys hair, no problem, start on the little guy and the tears start flowing, my wife pokes her head in the shower to say good-bye, which at this time isn't a good move because the boys have had all day access to mommy for about two weeks now so her first day going away to work is met with a meltdown by the already upset little guy.
Thanks, see you later honey.

I try to console the little dude, then his big brother, who is growing into a great older sibling (when the little guy woke up at 9:20 p.m. at the airport rather than surrounded by family at his aunt's house the previous night he totally lost it, and his big brother said to me, "Daddy I know why he's crying, because he woke up some where he doesn't know where his is and now he's confused," very perceptive son) anyway my 5'ver puts his hand on the 2'ers shoulder and says "It's okay buddy Mommy will be home later," to which the little guy responds by giving a two hand shove to his concerned brother, which in shower with three people is way fucking bad, I catch the big guy, yell at the little guy and rush through the rest of his hair washing without my usual concern for how much water got in his face.

By now we're super late, I whip up a breakfast and pack a lunch straight out of the shitty-parents-anonymous-processed-diet-regimen as supplied by kwik-E-mart, a grain and fruit snack bar each for breakfast, two peel-E-cheese sticks, spiderman real faux fruit candy drops, and a pack of airline pretzels for my big guys lunch.

I get my 5'ver to camp late, drive home, feel my back is tight, pull right back out of the driveway and drive to my chiropractor, who I didn't have time to go to right before I left two weeks ago, and he is of course is on vacation, as is his back-up back cracker his wife.

Wednesday, July 18, 2007

That Furry Thing

My 5 year-old was cuddling with my wife and not letting her go saying,
"I’m going to make you stand here for ever and ever and not let you go"
Mommy says, "I need to eat and go to the bathroom,"
5 year-old says, "you can take your penis and 'psssss' (makes a urination sound in the direction of the bathroom)"
Mommy, "I don’t have a penis"
5 year-old, "Then you better stretch that furry thing and go like this (pretends to be urinating from the master bedroom's bed into the adjoining bathroom)"

Maybe it's time to stop being naked in front of our kids.

Thursday, June 28, 2007

Busy schedule

To avoid the constant, "What day is X's birthday party, when is grandma coming over, how many days until the school year is over?" I've taken to drawing pictures on my 5 year-old's calendar and crossing the days off so he can keep up with his schedule with only minimal parental questioning.

Tuesday, June 26, 2007

plucked from an email to a new dad friend of mine:

"a couple of days ago, after a long assed day, & weekend for that matter, of family obligations (pre school graduation fri, pre-k classmates b-day party sat, a 50 wedding anniversary party sunday), everyone's asleep and i finally get to hang out a little, put the headphones on and chill on the couch then about 15 mins later, from upstairs i hear some gagging gurgling and moaning, i run up stairs and my 2 year old had puked up huge chunks all over his bed, which he shares with his big brother, nothing like bathing and washing the puke filled curly hair of an upset toddler at midnight, plus some got on his brother who luckily stayed asleep as the wife wiped him off. then after all that i'm rewarded by the toddler wanting to cuddle his mother back to sleep so i get to clean up the two pints of puke that cover his pillow and sheets.

hey feel free to hit me up with any questions, i've even read a couple of books, some good, some too wimpy and one from a right wing christian coalition that my mom gave me, she didn't realize that it promoted beatings, it was good to see some other points of view even though i didn't agree with everything it had to say, or even most of it, though the instilling accountability in your kids aspect i liked, i'm actually am a fan of rules and structure for kids, i figure with the parents my kids have there's a pretty good chance that they are going to turn out to be freaks/counter culture/ alternative/ whatever is the appropriate term for people who don't just accept the crap society feeds to them and blogs to the beat of their own drummer, anyway i've known plenty of freaks, some who have self discipline can make a niche for themselves in the world and be successful on their own terms, other freaks, even those with a lot of talent who don't have the ability to structure their lives, career plans, relationships or whatever, often wind up free floating and sometimes much worse. "

so to recap, no beatings, but no taking bullshit either, remember for better or worse you're the adult in the parent child relationship, don't get caught up trying to be their best friends, your job is to act in their best interest to help raise responsible, high functioning adults, not cater to whatever will make them be quiet, or whatever makes things easier for you in the short run, unfortunately, the harder path is usually the one that needs to be traveled with kids, not harder as in meanness, but harder as in more time, effort and patients on the parents part.

Monday, May 28, 2007

fresh from the M&M slaughterhouse

My very soon to be five year-old asked my wife yesterday after seeing an M&M commercial where the candies are anthropomorphized, "Are M&M's real?" Meaning are they living beings.
He also seems to think he's a vegetarian like his Daddy, because he eats some of the veggie "meats" that I eat and has given his maternal grandmother a hard time about eating animals. She wanted to tell him that he's not a vegetarian, but I told her if she still wants him to eat meat at least until he's a teenager (when I plan to give him the option to convert over from the darkside) that she'd better leave him to his misgivings. The funny thing is that I never told him he was a vegetarian, just that I was.

Friday, May 18, 2007

Hits from the Palm.

if you read this the day i posted it, sorry for the lack of spell checking, i must have thought i saved rather than posted it, anyway i guess reading typos never killed anyone ...

Notes from my PDA:
From a few weeks ago:
late for school today not the the usual reason, i dressed my preschooler in an outfit consisting of a polo shirt and pants set with a frog logo, and frogs all over the pants, which looks like something a four year-old would wear for a round of gold or a day boating, basically it looks preppy.
My son says, "No I want something tough." OK but we're late, I pickup up football jersey but it's too wrinkled, so I compromise, no frog pants (there's like 50 embroidered frogs all over the pants, not very tough) but he's gotta wear the shirt. He cries and talks about kids making fun of his clothes, I ask if they normally do that, he says no, but he has told me about kids making fun of his sippy cup, which is for babies, so i switched to another type of cup after a while, one of which has Dora the Explorer, which use to be unisex, but then they gave her cousin Diego his own show, and now Dora is for girls, Diego is for boys, so someone had a comment about his new cup, what are these parents doing that kids are already making fun of each other? My wife said I have to remember that most of these kids have been in daycare since they were one before going to preschool. I guess it's like they've "been in the system" for 80% of their lives and that gang up and pick on the weakest link or whatever perceived weakness someone has. I don't remember this from when I was a kid, and the neighborhood where I live now is better than the one I grew up in.
Also my wife points out that my son unlike me, and like most people, actually cares what other people think and can't just ignore those who make fun of him. Which points out my bad advice to him about these situations, "If he makes fun of your cup again, just tell him to shut up," "I can't say that daddy," "How about, I don't care what you think or no one asked you, or just tell him to shut it," "Daddy how come you always tell me things to say that I'm not allowed to say in school?"
Back to the shirts, I tell him I use to wear polo shirts with alligators and tigers and never had any problems, he says those are tough animals he wants those kinds of shirts. I tell him that his shirt has a poison frog on it, and they are tough and can kill much bigger animals if they try to eat it.

Then he keeps stalling, hoping that we won't go to school.
When we finally get to school he doesn't want to take his jacket off, I talk to one of his teacher's about it she says, "let me see, oh no one is going to make fun of that, but if they do tell me and I'll take care of them."

He did have any problems at school and he went up to the leader of the crew of "tough" kids that he hangs with and offers up the information that he has a tough poisons frog on his shirt.

From July 30, 2006

My 1 1/2 year-old's first sentence was said to his older brother when he came downstairs, "Tom tah key's on!" As in Thomas the Tank Engine is on TV.

Thursday, May 17, 2007

My almost five year-old son walks up to me this morning while I'm on the john holding what looks like a crushed chocolate Mentos or hard candy of some sort. Groggily I'm like, "What's that?" Now the fact that I just saw him take his hand out of his pants should have aided me in putting two and two together, but I had just woken up, and it didn't look like anything bad, so I put my hand out and say, "Give me that," and it felt hard like candy but at closer inspection it certainly was not.
I asked him if he remembered going to the bathroom in his pants and he said no. I checked the underpants he slept in, and the one's he had just put on and they both showed no sign of being soiled, so it was like the mystery Mentos poop fairy dropped off a gift in his tighty-whiteys.

I know I often post the grosser aspects of being a parent, but I guess it is because, though I've come to accept it, being intimate with other people's bodily functions and their resulting materials is something so different from my experiences before I was a parent, that they seem somewhat surreal to me.

Wednesday, May 02, 2007

Water heater pressure valve burst in our finished basement on my Birthday last Friday consuming my every action and thought for the past 5 days, soaked music studio, papers, boxes, foul smell, ruined wall to wall carpeting, etc. details when I get a life again.
Also previously postponed NYC birthday outing postponed yet again.

Saturday, April 14, 2007


When I'm not doing my at home duties, or blogging I'm djing for my internet radio station, which is the only artistic outlet that I've been able to mesh with being a stay at home dad. Now the government and the recording industry have gotten together to drastically increase the fees for internet radio stations, no matter how small they are, whether or not they are professional or not-for-profit. It is yet another case of the big money drowing out independent voices and choices because they aren't making any money of small stations, and they can't control what we program.

Please check out the links below and petition Congress to repeal the unreasonable fees for independent internet radio stations. If these fees aren't rolled back internet radio will soon be as lame as terrestrial radio,
peace out and please help


Friday, April 06, 2007

Speaking of googling yourself

I never use my real name on this blog, so I can "keep it real," well really as not to have anyone read this whose feelings might be hurt, and then have to deal with the consequences. So after my last posting I figured I'd google myself and sure enough of the eight blogs I have, Dissonant Dad pops up as the first one! It of course being the only one where I want to keep my name secret, oh fucking great, hi mom!

Grandma, Daddy said you're inept

SO, my son goes to pre-school with the child of a certain recently and publicly disgraced x-politician, which in my state could be any number of people, but just to not cause that family any more grief, in case they google themselves I won't be using their real names. Anyway my mother sees a Valentine's day card rather poorly and haphazardly draw by the progeny of said politician and in front of my son says, "That poor Fake Kid's Name, they sure do have problems," and as if this were some Meet the Focker's-esque family comedy my son blurts out, "Fake Kid's Name really has problems!?! What grandma, Fake Kid's Name has problems?!?"
Panic mode ensues and we come up with some cover lie that he buys and stops repeatedly saying, "Fake Kid's Name really has problems!?!" It was like he was really curious about what problems Fake Kid's Name had.

Now the kids not only pass information on to their parents, unfortunately it's a two way street and your kids will rat you out to your parents, or misconstrue something you say and pass that along to the grand parents and get you in deep shit.
This has happened to me twice, but at this time I can only remember the details of the last time it happened.
My son collects comic books, which I store for him some where that his little brother can get at, and where he has to ask me to get them out, so I can keep track of them while he's using them. I managed to keep all of my childhood comics to pass on to him, and with a little luck I'll be able to keep them in good condition until he's old enough to take care of them on his own, and who knows maybe pass them on to his first born.
So he's going away to maternal grandmother's for the weekend, and the week before every day, several times a day he's asking me if he can bring the comics to grandma's house, so at first I'm like no you can't, that's not a good enough answer, "Why?" "Well because Grandma's going to be very busy watching you two boys, and you guys will have toys spread out all over the house and it will be too hard for her to keep track of the comics, and to make sure you little brother doesn't tear them or draw on them."
Now by the 20th time that answer starts to be, "I'll tell you why, Grandma can't chase after you boys all weekend to protect your comics from your brother," 40th time, "Grandma's not so good at keeping track of stuff," 6 millionth time, "LOOK GRANDMA'S NOT SO GOOD AT TAKING CARE OF STUFF, ALRIGHT I DON'T WANT YOUR COMICS DESTROYED!"
Ring, Ring, "Grandma, Daddy said I can't bring the comics because you're no good at taking care of stuff!" Just fucking great, how do you explain this one away, basically not worth the bother, and frankly she's not good at keeping track of things and taking care of stuff, but I tried hard and long to keep my real opinion under wraps, but that little punk broke me like a first timer in central booking.

random thoughts from the past year: Punk lyrics & BHT

A couple of times a year I check my palm pilot for ideas that I had wanted to expound on in this blog but never got around to, so in order in particular:

* 10/27/2006. Helping my 4 year-old make 77 punk mix, his first mix CD, using the Damned, the Sex Pistols, the Clash's first albums, I was looking up lyrics online to cut out any songs with curse words. I still play plenty of music that has foul language around him, but I don't think his first CD mix should be chock full of "fucks and shits," besides the only time I've heard either one of my boys curse was shortly after I did, (what did you say, duck? right you said duck).
The pressing question is what about Antichrist and whore? I don't feel like explaining these, though I doubt they would pick these words out of a fast punk song anyway.
TODAY'S COMMENT: Can't remember if we used the song with whore? My two year old has taken to saying stupid, which no one in my house says, so I guess he got that from TV, the say stupid in Charlie Brown / Peanuts a lot. It's fun when we're out and he says,"I'm not stupid!" Another fun one is my wife made the mistake of giving him coffee once, and we are at an open house for picking grammar schools for his older brother, he starts to act up my wife tries to calm him down and while the Principal is giving her speech, he yells, "I want coffee!" *

General Mills started making most of their cereals with 100% whole grains, so I mistakenly thought cool I don't always have to spend five bucks at the healthfood store for cereal, so I let my son pick some Dora the Explorer cereal. We get it home and I notice BHT is listed in the ingredients, at first i think its in the packaging, but a closer look reveals that it's in the cereal. I didn't know that it was legal to put BHT in food, I thought they stopped that when I was a kid.
The next time I'm at the supermarket I start to check out some of General Mills "healthier" lines of cereal, and most have BHT.
I noticed a number of years ago when I first started to eat healthier, that a company will promote one healthy aspect of a food, like low fat, less sugar, no preservatives, but it will still have a number of other unhealthy ingredients like corn syrup, partially hydrogenated oils, etc. and no sugar usually means so sort of synthetic sweetener, sorry I'd rather have fat kids then predispose them for cancer.
So basically don't let yourself be tricked no matter how distracting your kids are in the supermarket.

Thursday, March 22, 2007


Rebel Dad is great at home dad blog that I read about in the paper, not only is it a cool and informative blog, but it's got a ton of links to other stay-at-home-dad blogs. He was kind enough to link to Dissonant Dad, so big ups, mad props and good vibes sent in Rebel Dad's direction.
This reminds me I have to add a links section to my sidebar.

peace out

Experts denounce kids' cold elixirs

Some cause serious harm, they say

Sunday, March 18, 2007

WASHINGTON -- Many of the country's leading pediatricians and medical experts have reached the conclusion that the most widely used cough and cold remedies for children do not work as advertised, and can cause a range of side effects including infant deaths from unintentional overdoses.
As a result, a number of prominent doctors and medical groups now oppose the use of over-the-counter cough and cold medicines for young children, unless recommended by a doctor.
And not just for young children: Last year, the American College of Chest Physicians issued guidelines that recommend against the use of such products for anyone under 14, finding they are "not useful ... and can actually be harmful."
Richard Irwin, a professor of medicine at the University of Massachusetts and chairman of an expert panel that issued the guidelines, said a scientific review of all available clinical data "found no high-quality studies" supporting the effectiveness or safety of children's cough and cold medications.
"Why use a drug not shown to work that can possibly hurt someone and maybe kill him?" said Irwin. "A common cold is a self-limited illness. We should not be using this with kids, especially young kids."

Despite growing concerns in the medical profession, OTC cough and cold remedies are heavily marketed for children and widely available at supermarkets, pharmacies and convenience stores. They include such popular brands as Triaminic, Dimetapp, Robitussin, NyQuil, Pedia Care, Little Colds and Delsym. Products advertised for use by toddlers and young children usually come in liquid form or chewable tablets.
Click here for the full article.

Monday, March 05, 2007

Oedipus & Civil Unions

A few months back my Pre-K son and I were joking around, at the time he was always talking about "marrying Mommy," oh Oedipus can you hear me, I guess some of Freud's cocaine fueled stabs in the dark actually hit the mark, it's funny reading about something Freshman year in college and actually seeing it happen in the flesh, anyway he knows that he gets my goat by saying he's married to Mommy, and we get into a "No, I'm married to Mommy," "No I'm married to Mommy," fight.
So I thought I'd throw him a curve ball and say, "Well I'm married to Matteo(my toddler son)," to which he responded, "A boy can't marry another boy!"
Arghhhh, well no they can't in most places, but there are civil unions, what if he says that in pre-school in front of the teachers, or worse in front of the kids with gay parents, they'll all think we're homophobic, filling our son full of hate, we're not homophobic, we lived in San Francisco for seven years and the old "some of our best friends in college were gay," but he saved my melt down by saying, "Well I guess if they can't find a nice girl they'd like to marry it's okay for a boy to marry another boy."
YES, he shoots, he scores! We conveyed our open-minded belief system without having to beat him over the head with barely age appropriate conversations.
I'm not one for sensationalism, but the fact that these boys are the same age as mine kind of freaked me out. I love the mother's excuse, "I was sleeping in the back room," like it's a situation that could happen to any responsible parent.

Video appears to show brothers, 2 and 5, smoking pot

You know how people always say, "You have to take a test to get a driver's license, you should have to take a test to have kids," well I think they should legalize non-physiologically addictive drugs but make people go through psychological testing to see if they are stable enough to handle them. I'm tired of teenagers and idiots serving as examples of why, "all drugs are bad," I know so many people that used recreational drugs responsibly (i.e. once they got serious responsibilities in their lives like kids & mortgages they either quit or drastically decreased their use), it's annoying that much of the public can't decipher the distinctions between, using, abusing and being addicted to drugs.

Master of his domain

I've read about fetuses masturbating in utero, and I wouldn't be surprised if my two year old son started before he was born, it's like his hands are magnets and his penis is made of metal. Every time I change his diaper he's fondling himself. Sometimes when I'm changing his diaper and cleaning his business, he gets an erection and looks a little too happy. I've noticed that sometimes if he's freaking out and fighting me because he doesn't want his diaper changed he'll totally chill out after gaining access to himself. In the tub the other day a killer whale rubber bath toy with an open mouth was being put to use in a way I never would have dreamed, and after that now all toys with orifices are open game, as it were, is that a pun or am I just tired, all I know is that we're going to need more than one upstairs bathroom by time puberty hits.

Thursday, March 01, 2007


I'm trying to make use of the "Labels" attached to each entry, I've gone back over the past 10 months or so, and will try to have every entry labeled over the next few weeks, any way here's the key:
whining = posts that primarily deal with my mental and emotional state
complaining = posts that deal with actual things that happened, outside situations (schools, taxes, the guys who shovel out the snow came late) not just me mentally tripping out on something
knowitall = posts that are informational like links, or where I get up on a soapbox and speak as if you could actually benefit from my vast pool of knowledge
the things they do = growth benchmarks, cute, funny and/or gross things my children do
How to Stop Whining in 4 Easy Steps

Tuesday, February 27, 2007

I suck

Man, I hate when you read something or come across something that makes you realize, "Man I really fucking suck."
I was just reading the Paper and there were two articles in particular that brought this home for me, one about a poet who lives in my town that just published a book about leaving the city to raise a family in Montclair, and another article about parenting blogs.
Why would these things make me realize I really fucking suck, well because they made me re-realize what a quitter I am, I use to constantly write poetry, but rather than working at my craft to get better, at some point in college I decided, ah fuck poetry, the only people interested in my poetry are women who want to sleep with me, being in a band is a better way to reach people with my ideas and feelings.
Now of course I didn't stop writing poetry & prose I just never worked at it any more, the first draft was now the only draft and I stopped showing it to people, it's not even like I got any devastatingly bad feed back, I just gave up the ghost.

As you obviously know by the fact that you are reading this I right a stay-at-home-dad blog,
and I've been doing it for a number of years, though I have ideas for it almost daily I have to force myself to post once a month, it's a lot like my ideas for bands, I'd come up with a concept, write four or five songs, demo two of them and be like, "ah no one wants to hear stripped down trashy blues punk, why bother continuing with this project?" Then two years later the White Stripes start making waves doing that exact same thing, and few years after that go on to fame and fortune. Now I'm not under the misguided notion that I have nearly as much talent as Jack White, but a band breaking big doing what I wanted to do just shows that there was interest in the world out there for it. And again, my band got some good reviews, but a combination of me being lame, and having an inability to focus on one artistic endeavor at a time ends up with me being an artistic jack of all trades, master of none.
So basically if I had three blogs instead of seven I might have written more entries for this blog, and hence might have been noticed by the author of the article in the paper, and had my blog listed in the article which would have lead to my blog getting more hits, and that some how would make me feel what? More valid as a blogger, a person, a parent, or what, why do I even care? I'm often confused where my healthy Buddhist/Taoist not giving a fuck about the trappings of life intersects with my unhealthy fear of failure, and what role my socialist desire to not deem myself a commodity and therefore not participate in capitalist society plays in it all.

Product is the Excrement of Action

Sunday, February 25, 2007

Wednesday, January 24, 2007

since i haven't posted in forever here's an excerpt from one of my babbling emails ...

"... I know about the old, boring, uninteresting, uncreative, crappy career angle, it's why people have midlife crisises and why otherwise unsleazy men cheat all the time, (that is if there are any unsleazy men).
Society has been set up to bore us to death, we have to try to keep challenging ourselves, I know on the one hand, my kids keep part of me on my toes, but they help to kill another part of me, a similar part that is killed by straight jobs, marriage, taxes, worrying about retirement, fear of death, etc., the freak, not just the inner child but the actualized and free adult that many of us were on the verge of attaining before our decadently extended adolescence forcibly came to it's end either by love, procreation, or being sick of sharing crappy apartments with strangers and not having enough money to go on vacation without running up credit card debt ... right now at best I can keep in touch with this person who I had planned to become by being a weekend psychic warrior, basically exposing myself to people on the street, no I meant to say exposing myself to either challenging or spiritually uplifting art (like Forest Gump and that wonderful artist that paints those quaint scenes of overly decorated snow covered houses, tchk-chk-BOOM, wall full of brains), basically anything to get you outside of yourself and your grind that will still allow you to get back into it in a timely manner, so no work is missed or bills paid late, with the hope that these respites will allow you to keep that part of you alive that you wish to flourish at some point in the future no matter how unforeseeable that future is. Obviously exercise, yoga, taichi and mediation are all probably more effective ways of doing the same thing.

This reminds me of something I read about some point in the distant past in some region of India where such high numbers of young men were devoting themselves to spiritual studies that it was hurting the economy. This prompted "them" I guess them that come up with the grand ideas that society is based on to decide that men should spend their first 20 years devoted to learning, both the secular and spiritual, their next 20 years devoted to operating in the secular and physical world, ie. making money and making a babies, and the next 20, which at that time for most I'm sure meant the rest of their lives, living as a spiritual being, be it a wandering aesthetic, a monk, etc.
and basically now that applies to both men and women, and we are all in the suck it up and deal with it stage of our lives, and we haven't had the proper spiritual training to get through this stage, we just have to find a way to keep one foot out of the rut so we can keep it on the proverbial Path."