Tag: daughters

Dad, doing what he does best!

theycallmebettyLeave a comment

Here we go the ire is up! The steam is rising from my forehead! Teeth are clenched tightly and I am stammering for the right words!  I am ready, willing and able to ridicule another company one more time!!

I will always proceed any rants with the following; As you know from following my blog, I am a very involved father who believes all relationships should share equally the trials and tribulations of running a household and raising children! I have also made it my personal mission to “call out” any company or companies that exemplify the stereotype of dad being a moron, lazy, absent, disrespectful, or ignorant.  I also don’t believe that mom should be stereotyped as the frantic, know it all, does it all, at home personal maid to the family. 

With that being said; I saw a commercial today that at first I will admit peaked my interest a little.  It started out strong, and as it went on I found myself thinking “why yes nice lady tell me more”! But then they did it! Yes sir they did it! They crossed the line!  The blatantly took the low road pandering their inferior product to the masses.  They took it upon themselves to assume we as a society really function at a fifth grade level. Both with humor and intellectually.  Oh and just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse, it did.  They attacked all fathers around the world. Wondering who this company could possibly be?  Pondering what they might actually sell? 

FOREVER LAZY!!!  Have you heard of these Snuggie rip offs?  Oh yeah that’s right I said it, SNUGGIE RIP OFF!!  I laughed my butt off at the Snuggie, even got into a squabble over a white elephant gift one year that involved a Snuggie! Snuggie has a certain humorous respectability in the consumer world!  Apparently Forever Lazy wants a piece of the market! Now as I admitted earlier, I was pondering one of these absurd little gems as a great gag gift for the firehouse!  But after seeing the commercial and reflecting on their wonderful marketing strategy. I think not! Tearing down the human fabric that is our society,  I say not only no, butt heck no!  There will be no Forever Lazy in my household or fire station!  I have banned them completely from existence! 

Never have I seen such blatant use of the word lazy in describing the great people of this nation!  Never have I seen men, women and children all portrayed as such horrendous lazy sloths!  I will never stand by idly as a company states and I quote; Everyone can watch the big game while dad does what he does best! (dad is on the couch asleep) Being lazy?????  Sleeping????? Drunk??? Is that really what dad does best?  Apparently the household runs itself, or has Forever Lazy provided maids, accountants, teachers, coaches and cooks with every purchase of a Forever Lazy @ $29.99 plus shipping?  Well I for one wont stand for it and neither should you!  Put on a comfy pair of sweat pants!  A nice long-sleeved shirt or sweater will do!  Heck buy a Snuggie! Watch the Forever Lazy ad, you can find it on YouTube!  They even have you wearing this thing to a football stadium!  Yuck! Its like walking around in a pair of footsie pajamas!  Oh yeah and its ok to be out in public with the darn thing on because it has dual trap doors so you can go to the bathroom! Can you imagine sitting on a toilet in a giant Sham-Wow! Can you say germ magnet!! 

Let your kids know how highly you think of them by purchasing them anything that doesn’t lead to laziness or is associated with laziness by name!  Just think your kid has straight A’s and then for Christmas you purchase the Forever Lazy as a lark.  Now little Johnny is confused.  What message is mommy and daddy sending me?  Am I working to hard?  Should I be lazy?  Should I be “Forever Lazy”? When I grow up am I going to end up doing what dad does best? Little Johnny slips into the Lazy suit and Bam! Brain cells start dying, next thing you know its X-box all the time, he never gets off the couch, grades all drop to a D and little Johnny is headed to reform school!  All because you bought into the Forever Lazy hype!

I know it’s not really that way, I am just worked up and rambling!  But really no company should ever portray people as moronic, idiotic and lazy, especially when it involves the family circle.  Humor is one thing, ignorance is another, but pandering ignorance is the very worst kind of sales tactic around.  So please remember this, you are a reflection of all the people who helped you to become who you are today.  If I see you with a Forever Lazy on well, game over my friend, game over….

I woke up alone

theycallmebetty2 Comments

I awoke this morning to an empty bed.  It was cold, I had unknowingly acquired all the pillows and I was unsure of my location.  After flopping around a bit searching for the edge of the bed with my feet, ( a scientific method of measurement) I came to the conclusion I was not at work, but definitely at home.  I rolled to my back clearing just enough sleep induced cobwebs to recognize that if I was home, where was my wife?  Thats right, there is an additional tenant signed to this queen bed lease.  It was not designed to be a rest haven for one, no no no, this warm slab of downy goodness was built specifically for two! 

I smelled coffee!

Why has she awoken so early on this rarest of rare days?  A day not filled with school, or the rush and hustle of work? No, this is a cherished weekend morning ritual, a space of time so few and far between with our hectic schedules that even the powers of Krypton could never tear it away.  A morning for us to stay in bed together, sans children!  A morning the kids get themselves up, feed themselves cereal and then watch an hour or two of useless television before going to church!  A morning where talking and snuggling are not interrupted by the baggage of a long day needing to be unpacked before bedtime!  My goodness how has this happened!  Have we gone so far in our marriage that these little things mean nothing, they hold no cherished place in our hearts?  Have we fallen into such a rut that all forms of individualism separating us from our children has perished?  This is blasphemy!  blasphemy I say!

Well too heck with her!  To heck with her I say!  Leave me alone in bed will she! You better believe I wont be friendly when she gives me a cup of that “oh so delicious” coffee she makes! It probably wont taste good anyways, and I will force myself not to like it! I’m not even going to smile! No sir!  I’m thinking it’s going to be a little hard to swallow such warm tasty goodness upon the heels of such marital disrespect!  Hard I tell you! 

I am distraught and as the sting of loneliness slowly clears my head.  I seem to recal a small child coming in at “oh midnight thirty” to say he had a bad dream.  The covers were pulled back, a heavy sigh was released and a small little boy with cuddly green blanket was fast asleep, squished between his mom and dad.  Was that it? Was that the reason she left the bed?  Or maybe I was snoring?  I do have a tendency to snore now and again. Although she has never complained about it, even going so far as to say “its kind of rhythmic”.  I am no fool.  I know she says such things as to not hurt my feelings over the fact she can’t sleep next to a buzzsaw at full throttle.  Maybe it was our giant dog that woke her up?  He does have a tendency to sound like bigfoot walking across the floor downstairs. When he wants to go outside he lets out a sound similar to that of a wookie!  Once your hear that noise at 3 in the morning, combined with clumping feet across the floor, it can get your heart rate up causing a serious adrenaline rush!  Sleep usually doesn’t follow after that little encounter for quite some time.   But even then, she would never give up our weekend morning together would she?  I am so confused and have chosen to quit theorizing about my selfish predicament.  Maybe it is what it is, and I should just face the fact, between the kids, my snoring and the giant beast of a dog, maybe, just maybe there is a perfectly good explanation for this series of events.

I go downstairs

She greets me with a smile, I am not swayed.  She is on the couch under some blankets (looks inviting) watching the morning show.  In my best cool and collected voice I mutter a soft; so what happened to you last night? She proceeds to explain that once our little one came to bed, night mare and all, she couldn’t sleep all squished up between us.  The wood stove had the house way to warm upstairs so she thought she would just leave him there so he would feel safe with his dad and head downstairs where it was cooler.  She motioned for me to come sit next to her.  I still wasnt completely swayed so I sat a little bit aways from her on the couch.  My son brought me a cup of hot fresh coffee.  I buckled a little more and moved in closer.  I let her know that I had in fact put our little guy back to bed only 10 minutes after she had disappeared from our room.  In fact it was all coming back to me now.  I had gotten up to go to the bathroom and when I returned she was gone.  I placed the little one back in his bed, thinking she was downstairs getting something to drink, I went right back to sleep.  She let out a grumble of discontent, followed with a: you mean I could have slept in our bed all night instead of freezing down here? Yep….

I am now feeling like a fool as I take in the dark roast that fills my coffee cup.  Apparently I am the one to blame all along, for I should have recognized what was happening and brought her back upstairs to me. Then I remember something even more important!  It isn’t our weekend morning to stay in bed together after all!  We had been jipped once again, for I had to be somewhere. Karma had dealt me an ugly hand for I was the one that had to be up and out the door this morning!  I had to be at work.  Yep all the commiserating, all that whining to myself, all the selfishness, all the second guessing and in reality I am the one to ruin what could have been a perfect morning between two people who love each other.  Hmmmm. 

Well at least the little one got a good nights sleep.  I hope when he is older he appreciates all we have sacrificed to ensure he feels safety, protection and love from his parents.  I guess in the long run that is worth a few sacrificed mornings.  Besides his mother and I will have plenty of mornings to spend together once we are old, ugly and have run out of things to say to each other right?  Right? 

Just kidding……

Friday the 13th

theycallmebettyLeave a comment

friggatriskaidekaphobia;  Say it out loud.  frigga-trisk-aide-kaph-obia man even slowly it sounds cool!  Have you ever seen such a word? Its very reminiscent of supercalifragilisticespialidoscous!  Have any idea what it means?  Its the fear of Friday the thirteenth!  Seriously, the fear of Friday the thirteenth!  So strange, there is a real phobia of this dreaded day. But very cool at the same time…

So many people are unreasonably terrified over todays date. My kids are petrified because all their friends have told them bad things will happen to you on this day and there is nothing you can do about it! Not exactly a Hallmark holiday yes?  Adults are scared of the ramifications associated with participating or doing anything of value on such a cursed day. All over the world this day has been cursed for a myriad of reasons.  Yet to me it remains just another day.

I awoke this morning determined that no stupid day was going to slow me down, make me cower!  Not a single idiotic theory about world domination along with the extinction of the human race was going to damper this mans afternoon.  No way Jose!  I was sailing along just fine!  In fact just for good measure, this afternoon I purposely walked directly beneath a ladder! What What?  You read that right, I also stepped on a crack, which by the way did not result in a trip to the ER for my mommy’s broken back!  As a matter of fact while turning the corner of our garage this morning my path was crossed by that of one never before seen black cat!  Woooooo!  Soooo scared!  Bad luck forever for me!  I guess I also should never have thrown that mirror on the ground, then danced on its shards of unprotected glass.

Seriously, today was like any other day, I awoke at 5:30 to the sound of the station alarm toning us out for a medical aid.  No salt over my shoulder, no hail mary’s for this cat, heck no, I just strutted out to the rig and went about my business.  After returning from our little medical aid, I was reminded by a co-worker to “be careful” while pouring some coffee because it was Friday the 13th and who knows what could happen on such an unlucky day?  Unlucky day?  I make my own luck Jack! No stupid superstition is going to dictate my day! Heck No!  And with that said, shift change came and I marched right down to the local barber shop throwing caution to the wind! Never for a spit second did I fear for my life as he used his expert skills to provide me with a haircut Donald Trump would have been proud to adorn!  No bloody neck, no spot cut/gash into my golden locks of love, no sir, I was trimmed up and ready for a great day of Friday the thirteenth bashing!

Oh and bashing I did partake!  I rode horses today with abandon, hoping for some fatal action emerging from the belly of the four legged devil beasts! I clumsily walked around tall stacks of hay, stepping in front of a moving tractor and purposely standing next to a stud horse hoping to be kicked or bit!  Yet not one bad thing happened to me.  I even took to reminding everyone around me to “be careful”! Followed up with a high pitch, don’t you know what day it is? hee hee he!  Am I being to cocky? Have I screwed my karma into the ground?  Oh I don’t think so!

You see just as there is no real tooth fairy, Santa is a glorious traditional figment of our imagination, Justin Bieber is really the teenage anti-christ, and Dick Clark is really an Disney animatronic robot, there is no evil association with Friday the Thirteenth! None! It is just another day on the calendar. Just another day to make your own destiny, Just another day to praise the heavens or curse the dredges of society. Its all up to you.  So on the next Friday the thirteenth, make your own magic happen, don’t let  someone else’s fear from reality ruin your perfectly good Friday. Regardless of whether or not that Friday is the thirteenth.

Personal note: I did wait until the end of the day to write this little piece.  I am sure that falls under the “I knew the 49ers were going to win the Super Bowl: ten minutes after the end of the game aspect.  Or maybe I just like a sure thing.  I am safe now right? Please say yes……. Did you hear that? What was that noise? crap……..

 

 

 

Sportsmanship is dying…

theycallmebetty1 Comment

Today is a bit of a rant; A conversation with a co-worker got this ball rolling and I thought HMMMM maybe a little reminder to other parents might be nice. So hate me if you will, or agree with me if you so choose. It’s all good. Sometimes when raising our kids we are our own worse enemies

It’s that time of year again, the local paper tells the story. There are signs up all over town and anybody who is anybody has seen it posted on their Facebook page, a recommendation from a friend or board member! Little league baseball, girls softball, volleyball and kids basketball. Swimming. rugby, football and lets not forget soccer! All the wonderful sports that our children beg us to participate in are gearing up for another full season! Kids sports are great, I think all kids should have the opportunity to try out for multiple sports hopefully finding something they really enjoy. Nothing beats the feeling of accomplishment from participating and finishing seasonal sports. It’s a great way for kids from all over your area to meet and make friends with kids from other districts or schools. In my experience this makes the transition into middle school and high school much easier for kids when they get older.

But what I don’t like about kids sports, what really gets under my skin, the thing that makes me agitated, irritated and down right frustrated! ( I think I covered the three “ated’s”) Is the death of sportsmanship. Not from the kids, but from the parents. The overbearing, unsportsmanlike parents that come with each and every season. The parent that is single-handedly the loudest most obnoxious person at the event. The parent that publicly berates their child when that child doesn’t live up to their expectations. The parent who after embarrassing their child to the point of tears usually turns to another parent and justifies their horrific actions by pulling an “Al Bundy”. You know what an Al Bundy is don’t you? The “In high school I scored four touchdowns in a single game” routine! Because everyone knows that you, peaked in high school, therefore your child must bear the brunt of your failures and become a pro sports star to carry on the incredible legacy you have left behind! Yeah that guy! Oh and now that I have started this; it’s not just the guys either! It’s the moms too! You can’t miss them, heck, no-one can! They are the loudest most belligerent ones in the building! More obnoxious than any man could ever become! They slap their boy in the back of the head letting them know if their father was there he would surely be disappointed in this sub-par performance. They scream at their daughters constantly, so loudly the coach can’t be heard! And lord have mercy don’t you dare mumble anything about the team doing poorly when their baby is out there, she will turn on you like a lioness protecting her cub. Even though you never said anything in direct relations to little princess.

Listen its like this, I coached baseball for 5 years, it was fun, no; let me rephrase that, it was great! The kids were fantastic! They all come with desire and a wanting to learn the game, how it’s played and the rules. Many parents wish they could be present but balancing the needs of their kids along with the schedules that youth sports brings to the family dynamics can be difficult. That’s where a good coach can really bring the game to the next level for these kids! We are there everyday, on time, ready with a practice plan and a will to give our love of the game to a group of children that really wish to learn. If its done right the kids look up to us, we show them respect and admiration for a job well done. But every year no matter how hard we as coaches try there is always at least one “Al Bundy” that shows up running his/her mouth about the poor “quality” of coaching, or constantly yelling out new directions during the game which is inevitably NOT what you wanted the kid to do at that very moment. All you can think is if you wanted to be a coach why didn’t you sign up!

At some point that parent will also take great pleasure in berating a ref or two just for fun. Then just when you think everything is calmed down and under control, that poor child will be on the bench crying. CRYING! And do you know why? Because that nice, willing to learn, I love baseball more than anything kid will break under the pressure of trying their hardest to do what you want them to do but also trying to do what Al Bundy is screaming at them to do. The kid feels like he/she can’t let their parents down, they can’t let the team down, they can’t let the coach down and they can’t let themselves down. HMMMM that is a lot of emotional baggage for an adult to handle let alone a child. Not only is it a lot for the child to carry but it mentally affects the entire team!

Before you know it the kid is underperforming, coming late to practice, causing problems with other team mates and the kid doesn’t know why. It breaks my heart every time. Super competitive, out of control parents bring mental destruction to more talented kids than injuries, poor coaching, and poor performance in my humble opinion.

Now you can say to yourself; What the heck does he know! He only coached for 5 years, what experience is that? There are plenty of competitive parents that raise super successful sports stars! You would be right there are plenty of competitive parents that raise wonderfully talented well-balanced, intelligent children and see them through all their successes. But its done through positive reinforcement! Not unsportsmanlike, negative, soul crushing belittling.

This is what I know; After five years of coaching baseball, the boys and I were headed to sign ups/try-outs. They were not looking their usual “Joe DiMaggio” selves. Sensing something was amiss, I leaned over the seat and asked them what was up? I received a sheepish reply of “nothing”. I said: come on out with it? Silence was my only reply. As they stared, talking to each other with their eyes. It hit me! Yep right then it dawned on me, I had become that super competitive idiot with my own kids? Except I worse than one of those parents, I was the coach…. I couldn’t understand how this happened! I loved baseball, I loved to play it, I fully understood the game and its unique strategies. But with my own kids I had pushed them into not liking the game anymore, by forcing them to play harder and better than I ever dreamed of playing. So I swallowed hard, leaned back over the seat and asked them both; Are you guys playing for me or are you playing for you? With heads hung low they both said; Dad we are playing for you. With that I turned the truck around and we went out to lunch. It was one of the best lunches I can remember.

So listen to your kids, protect them from the “Al Bundy’s” of the world. Even if that “Al Bundy” turns out to be you. Teach them that “Winning” is the by-product of fair play, sportsman like conduct, honest training and a true love for the game/sport they are playing. Praise them on a job well done and praise them on a dignified loss, teach them to respect their opponents when they lose. For the only way to understand the thrill of victory is through the agony of defeat.

One last thing; as I learned the hard way, just because you played a particular sport, doesn’t mean your kid is going to want to play the same sport. Let them choose, let them try, then let them try something new until they find what they enjoy playing. Also, if they just don’t like any sports that’s ok too. Love them for who they are, because how they turn out as adults is a direct reflection of how you turned out as a parent. Once again, just my opnion….

My wife the single parent

theycallmebetty3 Comments

She rises at 5:30 to start her long day.  A shower, some coffee, a heavy sigh, a moment alone.  She does her hair and makeup before the sun rises.  A brush of the teeth, a layer of lipstick, a wry little jokeresque smile.  She looks at the little lines on her eyes, sighs, then puts her game face on, its time to go.  The doors are tossed open the covers pulled back, sleepy eyes open to thin light from the hallway afar.  The first two are moving, then its down the stairs, the last two still sleeping, time ticking, alarm sounding, no response.  A gentle rock of the hand, a slight whisper in ear.  The last two have awoken, they stretch rise and get dressed.  Breakfast is a hustle, like that of a subway coffee stand.  A bagel, a doughnut, some cereal, or toast.  Four other people, begging for help, wanting some food, needing their hair brushed, gathering some thoughts.

Lunches are made she is feeling the pressure, the clock is ticking departure is near.  One goes to high school and starts zero period.  Three go to elementary school their arrival is eminent.  The dogs are outside playing with glee, the goat and the horses munch quietly on their breakfast of oats and hay.  The two oldest return with reports on the animals well-being, subjects are changed, backpacks are filled, home work is gathered now head to the car with five minutes to spare.  One last cup of coffee before heading away, only to find no one has a jacket, two forgot their lunches and one wants to argue about whether or not his pants are too dirty to go to school that day. 

As she pulls out the driveway, one in the back screams he forgot his clarinet, the car turns around and in a jiffy she’s back where they started.  It’s at this point she can feel the pressure truly mount.  The high schoolers grade gets dinged if he’s late and we are ten miles from town.  Nine times out of ten they make it in time, but he is now grumpy for this is the tenth time.  She rushes across town to the elementary school and finds her parking spot.  You see this is where she works, her three children now turn into thirty.  Thirty kids who all need the same attention as that of her three.  A deep breath a moment in the car, a poised smile on the face, a whistle in hand and before she can catch her breath she is directing hundreds of other parents where to park and drop off their little angels.  As these parents drive some give her the nod.  The nod of “I understand what you’re going through right now” the gesture is returned with appreciation.  Some simply smile, some wave.  Some are truly glad to see her for she brightens their day and some are so self-absorbed they wish she would just get out-of-the-way. 

In a flash it is done not before she is frozen by the mornings bitter air.  But she turns on her heels and steps into the hallway that leads to her room where her partner reveals, the plans for the day and the lesson to be learned.  Its assist a child over here, adore a child there, its bathroom breaks and sorry mishaps.  Its challenges met and opportunities missed, its laughing and crying and some throwing fits.  It’s a fine ballet of tag team education where the goal always remains the same; send children home with more brain power than they came to school with that particular day. Teachers and parents, administrators and children, she feels attached to them all both mentally and emotionally.  By the end of the day she feels a strong sense of accomplishment and a foreboding sense of exhaustion.  For she understands the day is not done and as she winds down from thirty daughters and sons, she’s left facing the remaining three that need her the most. 

A half hour break then the pick-up begins, first the little ones then the high schooler and before she knows which way is up and which way is down she has a car full of the most important children she knows.  One would think the day was over, but not for our girl, she still has grocery shopping to do, animals to feed and horses that need riding.  Stalls need cleaning and friends who have looked forward to seeing her are happy she is there at the barn.  The smallest ones are tired, and grumpy is rearing its ugly head.  Squabbles and bickering are broken up, feelings are hurt and she does her best to referee.  A sit in the car, a timeout, a strong reprimand along with a please say your sorry thrown in for good measure.  A parent is apologized to for some inappropriate behavior, it’s always met with an “its ok I had kids once that age too” then the nod of understanding soon follows. 

By the time she returns home 12 hours have passed, it’s homework and dinner, showers and bedtime stories.  The kids once again take care of the dogs, put out the trash, quickly pick up their rooms and get ready for bed.  If she’s lucky everyone gets along and it all goes swimmingly.  If she’s not lucky its reminiscent of a gang fight at Pelican bay. 

By eight things have started to wind down, a few dishes are washed, a load of laundry is done, some clothes are folded.  The two little ones have laid down their heads. they are fast asleep as the worries of a hard day, education and playing have taken its toll on their little frames.  The two older ones have finally settled down, one is reading, the other is quietly watching a hunting show.  She slowly for the first time today starts to let her guard down.  A glass of wine and some brain-dead TV usually do the trick. 

As the warmth of the wine settles into her soul, one child goes up to bed and the oldest stays up just a smidge longer.  You see he knows what is going to happen next.  At fifteen he is starting to grasp the strains of a fully scheduled day.  He also holds quite a bit of responsibility as older brother to his younger siblings.  He switches channels and gazes across the room, checking so carefully not to disturb her for he knows it will happen quite soon.   Another glass is poured and before it can be savored. She simply slips off to sleep, so soundly, so quietly, the comfort of white noise, good wine and a soft comforter are more than her frayed senses can handle. 

He lets her sleep for a while then carefully wakes her.  He points her in the right direction, waiting for her to make it to the top of the stairs.  He turns out the lights, locks the doors and sends himself to bed.  She clears the top of the stairs, takes a warm shower where she washes away the emotional grime of the day.  Slowly she makes it into her empty bed, she mumbles, she grumbles and turns on the TV.  You see white noise makes it easier to fall asleep when you are all alone.  When you are a single parent.  When you need some form of comfort after a hard day.  And as she drifts off into the land of dreams and serenity she thinks about the day he will return to give her the break she so desperately seeks.  Ahhhhhh sleep.

5:30 am the alarm goes off……

This is truly a typical day for my wife.  I wrote this out of admiration for her, for all the wives of public servants, true single parents and military personnel who are gone for days, weeks, months and in the case of the military years at a time.  As a firefighter I am not home for a guaranteed 10 days a month.  Though most months its closer to 12-14 days.  That is half a month away from our families and our wives.  They are amazing people to be married to us, and yet at the same time be alone as single parents.  Its never easy for a couple, I respect you all and promise to give all I have as a father and friend when I am home. Out of respect for you.. 

I love you Jacy……….

 

Today I became my father!

theycallmebetty2 Comments

 

 

 

When I was a kid I could be a bit of a handful, I was strong-willed and absolutely hated being told what to do! I can vividly remember as a kid, my father slowly becoming frustrated with me over my attitude. After awhile he would eventually let slip from his mouth; I hope you have ten kids and they are all just like you!  To which I would reply; me too, because I think I am pretty cool!   My dad would mumble something under his breath, chuckle to himself and the issue would be dropped.

Then there were times that he and I butted heads so badly that inevitably I ended up in my room for the evening with a good solid smack on the butt and the threat of the belt if I so much as peeked out of my room.  This was soundly followed up with him bellowing; do it! Open that door and see what happens!  It was as if he was taunting me, calling me chicken in front of my friends, to which my inner Marty McFly would start twitching and shaking because I didn’t care who you were, NO ONE CALLS ME CHICKEN!  Of course sometime being a chickens not so bad.  But I never figured that out, I was always the one who pushed things to the very furthest limit I could.  In some ways I am still that way today.  If given the chance I can argue making you believe that your point was really my point and my point was really your point, and just for fun I might even argue both points to such a degree that you have no idea what ground you really stand on.

Anyways I would sit my room, smoke rising from my head angry at the world!  I really never why I would become so mad, or why I never let things go after being sent to my room.  But what I did know was I was never ever going to be like my father!  I went to sleep many nights thinking to myself; If I ever have kids I am never going to be like you dad!  No how, no way!  My kids are going to be free to express themselves and they will get to stay up all night long if they want! Yep! My kids can have ice cream when ever they feel like it and if they wish to have hot lunch at school everyday well that will be ok with me!  I would lay there on my bed listening to my AC/DC Back in Black album.  (Album:A collection of recordings on a long-playing record.  a record is a large disk made of vinyl played on a record player. a record player is; oh hell look it up if you can’t remember) Wondering what will my kids be like?  Will they be cool like me or will they be a pain in the butt like my dad?  I hope he is right, I really do hope my kids are just like me, I’ll show him a thing or two.  They are going to think I am the greatest dad that has ever lived!  M&M’s for everyone!!!

Putting the kids to bed tonight my youngest starts an argument over whether or not he can go upstairs to take a shower by himself.  After resolving that issue, my daughter wants to argue over whether or not she actually used conditioner in her hair this evening.  For some reason unbeknownst to he mother and I she seems to have an affliction to the stuff.  preferring to have her hair ripped out with each pull of a brush or comb after a shower.  Yet the argument continues.  Then to round out the evening or the trifecta as I prefer to call it, the middle one is pissed because its his bedtime and he can’t watch a movie with his older brother.  When asked to go off to bed the attitude starts, then rudeness to his mother which is followed with a complete round of ignoring anything asked of him.  I walk into the room to confront my demon spawn only to be greeted with complete disrespect.  As he rolls his eyes at me and states with an emphatic “what”, he is promptly taken aside, his disrespectful actions are calmly explained to him and he is told to go to his room. He complies…. There you see I am the better man.  Calm, cool no action needed, I got this, I am so much better at this than my dad ever was, oh yeah, superdad……

I turn around after several rounds of gratuitous back patting to find he has made his way past me and is leaning against the wall watching the TV!  My head hurts, I am dizzy, feeling a little anxious and nauseous all at the same time.  Four kids, four issues, the arguing, I just want them all in bed, with peace and quiet, is that too much to ask.  Some respect would be nice too!  I feel it like a demon welling up from beneath, growling and tearing at my insides.  I wonder if this is how David Banner feels moments before he emerges as the Incredible Hulk!  And before I can catch myself a bellowing; GET YOUR BUTT IN BED RIGHT NOW! Comes out like an explosion of horrific magnitude!  My son turns on his heels and runs for the stairs, I am behind him moving like a cop chasing a suspect.  I am mumbling something that no one can understand! The boy makes it up the stairs and as he hits the landing I let him know: that butt better be in bed because if you get out of bed that butt is mine! I chuckle. I hear his bedroom door shut and as I stroll past my wife I let out a curt; I hope he has ten kids and they are all just like him! 

It is at that very moment I hear myself for the first time.  I shiver at what has just happened, I am in shock, disbelief, denial.  I am astounded at how easy it has happened.  I was so sure this would, no, could never happen.  I swore I would never let it happen and yet here I am.  Oh man……  Today I became my father…..

I may need some counseling.

 

Is a dog mans best friend?

theycallmebettyLeave a comment

 

A dog is mans best friend.  How many times have you heard this phrase?  “A dog is mans best friend”. Its sounds like a viable statement doesn’t it?  A dog is mans best friend?  See I have heard this all my life.  My mom raised AKC (American Kennel Club for those not in the know) dogs for profit, when I was a kid, and you always heard that statement flying around.  A dog is mans best friend???  HHHMMMM? I know it must be true because when my friends come back from duck hunting they’re always touting the excellent agility, loyalty and just plain olympic caliber performances that each of their dogs has displayed.  And yet it still doesn’t set with me.  Are those things what really makes a dog your best friend?

My son asked me the other day; why is a dog mans best friend? Why not a cat? I stumbled on the question for a minute, while reflecting on the many dogs I have cared for in my life. While recognizing I did not have one friend that had a cat as their “best friend”.  I thought of the loyalty, and the love shown by those animals, I thought about how after time they became like a member of the family.  And like a member of the family, lets say oh the uncle no one want to see or the great-aunt with bad breath that no one wants to smooch at the family reunion.  There are a few dogs who have graced my life that I just don’t miss at all!  So I take a good hard swallow looked my boy right in his steely little eyes and pulled this little gem of half whitted wisdom out for him to hear!

Son, I don’t believe a dog is mans best friend, on the contrary, I believe it’s a boys best friend.  (I know you are scratching your head right now and spouting; WHAT YOU TALIKING BOUT’ WILLIS!  As he raised one Vulcan eyebrow to comprehend this masterpiece of wisdom I continued on before he stripped a gear thinking about it.

Son its like this, when you are a young lad all you think about besides candy, hot wheels and ice cream is getting a dog.  He nodded his head in approval.  I continued; There are not to many boys in this world that have not begged for a dog at least once in their adolescent existence.  Boys across this country have sat in their room and daydreamed about the dog they would own.  A dog that would be their very best friend and go everywhere with them, protecting them from all the evil in the world.  Hunting with them across the undiscovered countryside of the early west, trapping beaver and chasing squirrels.  Knocking down buffalo and traveling on safari together you and your dog would be an inseparable pair.

Some boys actually live the dream as many parents cave into the begging, crying and whining.  The dog is usually a present, based on Hallmark holidays arriving with a bow and a sack of dog food.  For the lucky young lad a new life emerges.  One of countless hours of training, playing and poop pick up.  Shouts of joy from success, and tears of anguish when failure rears its ugly head.  But at the end of the turmoil a young lad now has a new best friend.  If he is lucky the dog is allowed to go with him everywhere, sleep on or in his bed and lay on his lap while watching tv.  They become two peas in a pod.  The adventures are not quite what was dreamed about, but through the magic of imagination they are darn close.  The dog is there when the boy has a horrible day to secretly cry on (remember in testosterone filled mythology boys don’t cry) and the dog is there to talk too when things aren’t going so well.  No girl is ever allowed to touch said dog, and a paw to hand pact is made that a woman will never come between them.  The dog is always happy to see him when he gets home, and equally as sad when he leaves for school in the morning. The best thing is both boy and dog think “farting” is the funniest thing in the world!

There you are, all the proof I need! I say verily that yes, the dog truly is the “boys” best friend!

Now don’t get me wrong, there are many men out there with dogs.  These animals are loved and cared for and are truly part of the family.  But its a different bond. You see in the eyes of the boy, the dog is everything! In the eyes of a man, the dog is part of a much bigger picture. The family.  So that’s my justification for why dogs are a boys best friend.

Just for the record, this all came about, because my oldest son finally went and purchased his very first dog.  It’s a hunting dog, a German short hair. According to my son its cute and funny and really smart.  She retrieves really well and is very happy to be with him. The dog came home today and we will slowly be inducting her into our family.  See, spoken like a true man…. Sit ubu sit…

I dont want to share my room anymore!!

theycallmebetty2 Comments

I don’t want to share a room anymore! I want my own room, and I don’t want to share a room with anybody! My brother makes all the big messes and then I am stuck cleaning them up! He never does anything but play, make a mess, play, make a mess and play some more! I am tired of being blamed for all his messes! I really want my own room! (dreaded deep tone) I don’t even like him! He can find his own room!

So goes the repeated mantra of my seven-year old……

My seven-year old acts this way whenever there is work to do. Especially when it comes to cleaning his room! I have noticed that a few of his little friends carry the same attitude! A few of them act as though they have “Only Child Syndrome” you remember OCS don’t you? You could pick OCS sufferers a mile away, they were always dressed in the latest designer clothes, they always had the newest school supplies, when they reached high school they always recieved new cars on their 16th birthdays! (Ok before some of you lone children get your panties in an uproar. I have plenty of friends who are the product of being an “only child” and they are some of the finest examples of human beings I have the pleasure to know. I am referencing the other half. You know what I am taking about too. Dont act like you don’t. Read on if you are unsure) They threw temper tantrums when they didn’t get what they wanted and heaven help you if you stood in their way or picked on one! The OCS sufferer would cry all the way home to mommy, who would then have daddy come knock on your door presumably to straighten things out and ensure you never picked on little OCS boy again. They never played well with others nor understood the meaning of the word “share”. Sometimes they wanted to fight you and afterwards there was no saying sorry and making a new friend! (If you fought afterwards you made a friend;my era school yard rules)

Little does my 7-year-old know he is behaving like an only child, like a prima donna, like the world should bow before him! Like he should be able to snap his little fingers and POW! Mommy and daddy are running around like chickens with their heads cut off, all to please his majesty!

I wonder where this behavior comes from? I question it constantly? He is the fourth of four children. The two older ones are older by quite a bit and his sister is only a year ahead of him. This make me wonder if he is carrying a form of “little” child syndrome? ( I totally made that up) To little to do anything good. “Good” meaning anything he is not allowed to do and since there is no one smaller than him, he has no one to dominate over? Gosh, I guess carrying all that frustration inside must make him feel as though he needs to exert dominance over everyone just to be noticed! (Just thinking outloud) But where he is failing miserably is the finesse! He also hasn’t mastered the art of manipulation or revenge! If my little brother had continually gotten me in trouble by leaving a messy room after I cleaned it up…. Short sheet beds, warm water on the hand at night, cayenne pepper on the pillow, and my personal favorite, the freshly dogged licked toothbrush are just a few that come to mind. Now I know that sounds like a lot to ask from a seven-year old. But not this little boy, he is a softer Stewie Griffin! I promise! Some nights I swear he’s up in his room playing with Legos trying to create a death ray so he can control all of mankind!

But why, why has he not mastered these skills, why is he behaving like a little “snot” with OCS? Why is he lacking the ability to cope with just about any situation he comes across? Why does he say Cool Whip with an emphasis on the WH? (only Family Guy lovers will get that). Well I think I have the answer, and I am pretty sure that all you parents with multiple children are going to say one of two things after I tell you.

  1. Not true I treat all my kids the same you are a crazy hack!
  2. Holy Cow! You are right I didn’t realize I was doing that, oh my gosh!

So here it is: Those of us with multiple kids have a tendency to treat them differently from the rest. They are babied a little more, we do things for them we didn’t with the two middle children. They get a little more cuddly time than the others. When they fall down and hurt themselves, super special attention is paid to them! Do you know why? Huh do ya? Because they are the last freaking child! HELLO!!!!!! They are and will be the baby until the day YOU die! There are no more kids behind left to cuddle and snuggle and hold. No more story time, no more butterfly kisses! No more play-dough sculptures and macaroni paintings, class plays and cookie social. The last of the squeaky, cute voices running through the house naked after a bath! Santa Claus is on his way out, the tooth fairy is forever banished back to imaginary land! And don’t even get me started on the existence of the sugar crack peddling Easter Bunny! Yep that’s right get all those special moments and emotions in while you can because JR is growing up and there’s nothing you can do about it!!

Heres where the OCS (Only Child Syndrome) comes back into play. Now take all that awesome parenting you have done (Snuggles, painting, story time etc..) with the last kid. Throw in all the parenting you havent done! Remembering the last kid gets into the least amount of trouble with the parents because the parents have a tendency to let the older children do a fair portion of the parenting. You know what I am talking about; between babysitting and watching them while you run errands. Being to exhausted to care after squelching emotional fires all day between the four of them. Suddenly it all makes sense! It has all come together! The picture is painted with the brush strokes of ignorance!

So how do we fix it? How do we get our little “Stewie” to quit acting like a prima donna and help his older brother with his room? How do we start acting like parents should and quit babying the baby? Well I really don’t think there is a definitive answer to those questions. You are always going to baby your baby, that’s all there is to it. It is a right of passage for you as a parent when the youngest grows up and moves on into the world. They will always be your baby and there is nothing they can do about it either. So try a little harder to at least equal out the special treatment just a little. Also maybe its time we took some of the responsibility away from the oldest all while recognizing him for his contributions to his mother and I’s sanity.

What I ended up doing to stop the “I want him to move out of the room” squabble was the best. When it was time for bed I kept his older brother downstairs. After a while a humble little 7-year-old came down asking when his brother was coming to bed? He’s not I replied, now off to bed with you. The 7-year-old came down again asking the same question to which I replied in a sarcastic Father knows best tone, I thought you wanted your own room? Meekly the answer came back. He can stay, please, I really didn’t mean it. Can he come to bed now? Yep something comforting about having your 11 year old “big” brother sleeping in the top bunk when you’re 7 and still scared of the dark! Huh? Sleep well little “Stewie” theres always tomorrow for world domination.

P.S. No children with OCS were harmed in the writing of this blog.

Dont tell Mom, ok??

theycallmebetty2 Comments

Dont tell your mom, ok?  How Many times have we said that to our children?  I know I have said it a few times.  Have you?  Think about it.  Hear it in your head while you are reading this, Dont tell your mom?  Seriously just writing it here, makes me think, how absolutely absurd it sounds! 

Heres where I am going with this.  My 11-year-old has been having a hard time the last few days.  Normal stuff, picking fights with his sister, acting like chores are the end of the world.  Trying to make special occasions about himself instead the intended recipient.  But where he really crossed the line is, he’s been caught lying.  Nothing big mind you, little lies. (not that it justifies the lying).

Example; (Mom) did you take a piece of cake without asking?  Answer; NO- Did you leave the toilet seat up? Answer; NO- Did you forget to feed the dogs? Answer; NO.   Did you bribe your brother to take the fall for you on the cake theft thing? Answer: NO mom, you know I would never lie to you!  God! Sheesh! Man!

Now he did all of these things, and yes he also failed miserably in the “did you bribe your brother to take the fall for you” category?  Which by the way I am kind of envious of his vision in the matter.  Think about it, get the little one (who by the way is so damn cute) to go belly up in front of mom for something you did! GENIUS!! You know the little ones punishment is going to be less and really the monkey is off your back so all you have to do is sit back, watch the fireworks while rubbing your hands together muuuuhhhhaaaaaahahahaha! Yet lie he did! He let his brother bite the bullet then lied about it! Steller!  Then when he finally came clean he expects a simple “I’m sorry” will make it all go away.  WRONG!!!

So I am beating my head against the wall, wondering what awful influence has led my “pure as the driven snow”, child to take the lowly path of lying?  What horrible event in his life has rewired his brain, so it overrides his ability to know the difference between right and wrong? My little angel would never, ever knowingly lie would he?  I mean he said it himself; I never lie mom! Wait that was a lie? Shoot, is he lying about lying?  I mean the kid is good, but is he that good?  Did he lie about the lie, which in turn created another lie which he eventually believed was the truth? Or was he telling the truth that was interpreted as a lie, which perpetrated another lie in search of the truth? Shit! How do secret double agents do this stuff?? 

What I realized through all my mental anxiety over the issue was this, IT WAS MY FAULT!  Yup, I said it, it was my fault.  sure he committed the crime, sure he’s doing the time, but why would he think it was ok to tell a small lie?  What would make him believe that it was no big deal?  Answer: Listening to his dad. 

You see every time I go into Seven Eleven with the kids still in the car to grab a quick snack and I buy one of those Hostess cakes I crave so badly. I do something that no dad should ever do under any circumstances.  I do something so shameful that I should be dragged in shackles before the court of elders to have my dad card revoked for a weeks time as I am thrown into solitary.  You see somewhere between handing out the goodies and hearing my name chanted to the heavens as they gorge on the surgery goodness that mom probably wouldn’t let them have I say these three little words.

Dont tell mom…….

Yep that’s right, I have said it so many times its shameful.  Dont tell mom.. I have just put the biggest burden I could ever put on a little kid.  Not only have I bribed them with sugar crack, but now they feel the pressure to uphold the lie! And why?  Am I supposed to be scared of being punished by mom for not obeying her orders in regards to my health.  Are they thinking holy crap if dads that scared his punishment must be BBAADDDD!!! Are they wondering if commandant Mommy will ship me off to the Western Front to die a horrible death? Of course not, I am already dying a horrible death by ingesting the lard pie with cherry filling.  A slow unhealthy death!!!  Just ask my wife.  So why then?  We all do it!  If anyone reading this says they have never told their kids, Dont tell mom… or lets just keep this between us, ok (wink wink)! Then I will call you a liar!!  And believe me it takes one to know one!! 

But seriously, we as fathers perpetrate this tiny example of teaching our kids its ok to lie over small stuff on a regular basis.  It doesn’t seem like much but really it is, an avalanche starts with nothing more than a misplaced snowflake.  And that’s how lies start, small then as the child masters them eventually they become bigger!  Before you know it you have a kid that can’t be trusted, they are demoralized and so are you!  Mostly though, we have engrained them that Mom is the enemy somehow, so much so that we (as husbands and fathers) are scared of her too!  What the Hell?  I know it feels like a “this is between you and me buddy”  friend type moment.  But really we are teaching our kids to lie and that in itself is criminal.  So the next time you catch your kid lying to you about tiny little things, just take them out to ice cream, and when they ask sheepishly if they can have cookies with their cone, lean over and proudly say YES! But only if you tell mom the minute you get home. 

By the way, I am on my third cookie while writing this, you guys got my back right?

2011 bye bye

theycallmebetty2 Comments

4 hours and 6 minutes until 2012.  That’s all I have left to reflect upon 2011 before the proverbial changing of the guard.  While most everyone else is posting in their blogs about all they have been through over the last year.  I am going to try a different route.  I ‘m going to reflect on my children’s lives over the past year.  Remembering what they experienced, and who they have become over the last 12 months. 

Parker

My little man is 6 in 48 hours he will be 7.  This was a year of learning for my youngest.  He learned to read.  Now to some that might not be a lot, I always hear the stories of “oh my little genius was reading by 2”.  But for Parker this was indeed a milestone.  He is very impatient and to finally overcome his “tummy pains” or “jitters” to sit and read without losing his mind was a gigantic obstacle to overcome.  He also taught himself how to spin plates on a stick.  He was so good at it that he decided on his own to be in the schools talent show.  Another huge milestone for our small performer.  You see Parker also doesn’t like to be laughed at when doing something serious.  So for him to stand upon a stage in front of the entire elementary school and perform without crying each time a plate fell.  (yes he smiled the biggest smile when he finished and everyone applauded) Well it makes me misty just thinking about it.  Parker also learned to ride a horse this year.  No fear, just got on the pony and started riding.  After a week or two declared he was ready for competition and proceeded to ride in an annual series, where he did quite well.  His lisp went away this year as well.  He has started to take notice that people aren’t saying “what” every time he asks a question or tries to tell a story.  He is sweet and kind with a slight hint of the devil every now and again.  I will miss him being little, huggable and snuggly.

Jessica

My little girl is 7 and smart as a whip.  This year she truly dedicated herself to her schoolwork.  She went from being very slow to focus on the tasks at hand to someone I trust to handle any task given her at anytime.  She is stubborn and resourceful, caring and brutish, but this year she learned so much about who she is as a person.  She has developed in a small flower that is just waiting for the perfect time to blossom.  She overcame many of her dreaded fears as well this year.  The fear of the dark; whipped! Although she still wants a night lite every now and again, she can sleep with the door closed and the lights off.  The fear of horses:  She would go down to the barn with us and just sit and watch.  If you tried to get her on a horse, stand back!  The screaming would start!  But thanks to the help of some wonderful friends, she not only rides, but she lopes a great little horse named JR. around the arena with the biggest of smiles on her face.  She is driven and competitive, if you are her friend she would slay the biggest serpant for you.  If you are her enemy look out!  We cant wait to see what she wants to accomplish next year!

Jake

Ahhhh my 11-year-old who is going on 17!  He is bossy, he is a know it all, he is the absolute best at everything he does (just ask him).  He is also the kindest, gentlest human being I have had the pleasure to know.  He has a smile that would melt even the coldest of hearts! If there is an animal in trouble with in a 10 mile radius, he knows.  He cries at even the smallest of creatures being hurt or in trouble.  When our little dog went missing this year, he called me at work and he was blubbering so hard I couldn’t make out what he was saying.  His year has been tumultuous to say the least.  He has been in the wrong place at the wrong time at school more times than I can count (parent e-mails from the principal).  He even went to the office for fighting, in which he was released because he had done the right thing by trying to get away from the kid until he had nowhere to hide.  He lost his best friend (to the Air Force) , who moved away which was quite a blow.  The year before he lost another friend (Air Force once again)to the dreaded “move”.  He learned to ride a horse this past year. He went out and purchased his own horse with money he had saved over the years from birthdays and Christmas.  Along with odd jobs he had worked and his 4-H project.  He rides in competitions and wishes to one day ride cutting horses.  He was in a school play and went from learning piano, to being handed a clarinet which he plays quite well!  He has grown what seems like a foot this year and is no longer small. (he’s built like a linebacker)!  I am proud of who he is becoming as a young man and after seeing the changes in him this year, wish he could slow down just a little bit.   

Cody

The oldest of the brood at a staggering 15 1/2.  This year was unbelievable for our young adult.  He was in marching band and went to several competitions around the state.  He also ran for the cross-country team and was one of 8 boys that made to State!  He lettered, received his ALL-League and his State Championship patches.  All while carrying a full 7 period workload.  This year he went hunting and killed his first pheasant!  He also go his first turkey.  He is in taxidermy at school and is really enjoying the class.  He says it is a lost art, I think he may be right.  Cody also took a big step this year by actually getting back onto a horse.  He was thrown from a horse 4 years ago and even though he got right back on and rode a while longer.  Afterwards he washed his hands of all horses.  Over the last year his voice finished changing, now when I call home I want to know who the strange man is answering the phone!  He also lost a friend (Air Force) but not just any friend.  They had been friends since 5th grade.  Eventually becoming boyfriend/girlfriend by 7th grade.  They stayed friends and became an item again last year.  It was a tough blow for him, he is dealing with it well I am sure in most part to technology.  He has his I-phone with him all the time.  Cody has read more books this year than anyone I know, he will definitely grow up to be the most well read person in our family.  Cody found his funny side this year, his wit is dry and quick! So much so that sometimes you are walking away from him before you realize that he just got ya!  He is growing tall and strong and handsome.  I am very proud to call him my son and I look forward to the day that I shake his hand and give him a hug man to man.. 

So there it is, I just spent a little time remembering some things that happened to my children over this last year.  No poo pooing about opportunity lost, or how much money we don’t have (we have horses, so you know we are poor).  No credit debt, no political rants, no occupy bullshit!  Nope just a moment in time to reflect upon what matters most to me.  My kids, who they are, and who they are becoming.  It’s a privilege to be a parent and I think at times we take that privilege for granted. 

So welcome 2012!  Welcome to our lives with open arms!  May you bless us with countless stories that we may recollect!  May you bring us challenges that we may meet! But most of all, may you bring my kids one step closer to moving out!!  (you didn’t think I was going to do this whole thing without one obnoxious quip did you?)