Your Presence is Requested

Hello, everyone.  It's your long, lost blogger friend coming at you live from a remote beach on an even more tropical island paradise.  I'm not going to say which one, though.  It could be Hawaii.  It could be the Virgin Islands.  It might even be on the island of Wyomingda.  My wife and I are enjoying the warm sun, sandy beaches and the fact that we left the kids hundreds of miles away.  The 12YO can take care of the two little ones.  She's very mature for her age.  Plus we are already here.  What do you want me to do about that now?!?  Excuse me while I order another drink.

(What you have just witnessed was NOT real.  It was just a test of the One Day I Will Do This Emergency Blog Intro.  In the event of an actual tropical visit, you can almost 100% guarantee that you would not see anything from me during the trip except some random Tweets or Facebook Status Updates like: "Hey, this island has BIG coconuts!" or "I promise those last 3 pics were NOT inspired by Margaritaville.  OK... they really were.  Make that the last 37 pics." or even "Note to self: Make sure to sit out of arms reach or better yet throwing distance when going to a tropical island with your wife.  I love you, honey! You're the best wife in the world!  :-)" )

The reality of all of this is that there hasn't been ANY time for writing.  Over the last month or so the Que family was hit with some very serious medical news.  I probably won't get into it much in my blog but you never, EVER expect to hear that kind of news. But we are pushing forward.  More recent news has been much better than the previous 3 - 4 weeks.  So we are a lot more optimistic and positive.  Plus, I have a wonderful wife and 3 lovely children.  It's hard to stay negative long with they are around.  But when people are hit with really powerful news they handle it differently.  I would imagine that a REAL writer would want to write about it.  It helps the mind when the pen in moving.  (I would have said when the keys are clicking but it doesn't sound as poetic.)  But I'm not a REAL writer.  So, I didn't want any pens to move (or keys clicking). But that definitely contributed to a little bit of blogging silence.

Another reason for silence is that I'm working about 87+ hours a week (when you add commute time).  I work 2 full-time jobs.  I also work 7 days a week.  There is even a 60hr stretch in there where I only get 8hrs of sleep... total.  I don't tell that for any awards or medals.  (Banana pudding would be nice though!) I do what any husband/father (any not EVERY, mind you) would do in my situation.  I just told that to let you know that I'm working with a few minor time constraints right now.  Because when I do have some free time my wife and kids want some attention.  (The nerve!)

It's not all as bad as it sounds, though.  The bills are getting paid.  We are finally moving forward financially.  Not a lot of families can say that in the economy right now.  Another thing a lot of people can't say is that I like BOTH of my jobs.  Actually, I LOVE one of them and I REALLY like the other.  But I'm not going to post which is which.  I will let each job feel like I love them the most. :)  It's kinda like how I am with my kids! (My wife is not going to like THAT joke.)

But I did find out some great news at one of my jobs, though.  I found out that if I ever needed a bladder transplant (if they even do that) there is a donor right there!!! I didn't do a complete scientific, medical analysis or anything.  But I would beg to say that our bladders have exactly the same size, shape and spongitude (absorbency) because we met each other in the bathroom at least 5 times in one day.  And I know most of you are thinking "5 times???"  Why in the bathroom so much?  But I have been drinking a lot of water lately.  I'm back on my getting to my target weight thing again. (Watching The Biggest Loser does that to me.)  The good news is that I'm finally (due to an ill-conceived stomach virus (get it??? ILL-conceived... stomach virus... whatever)) down to my last 10lbs.  So the weight loss thing is back in order.  Now I just need to find an easy way to get my co-worker's driver's license to see if he's an organ donor.  I would ask him but that would be an odd, out-of-the-blue question to ask someone you have only seen but have never talked to.  I'm sure he would find that a little suspicious.

Well, I have to go now.  I hope that when this is all over, I will still have my 3 readers.  And maybe I will find a time in the near future to catch up on reading some of writings of my favorite bloggers.  You all know who you are and you know I haven't commented in a while.  Sorry.  Just remember YOU are my favorite blogger.  And I'm not just saying you're my favorite.  It's not like you are my jobs or my kids. (Best Wife EVER!) :-)

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House FULL of Women!

When I was in elementary school, the thought the idea of a house full of women was just yucky!  When I got to high school, I began to realize that the idea had a LOT of merit.  When I got to college, it was the things that wishes and dreams were made of.  Now that I'm older (and live in a house full of women) the dream is MUCH different.  Be careful of what you wish for, you just might get it.... when you least expect it.... sometimes years later.... with strings attached.  This, in NO way, resembles what I had in mind in my college days.

I will always be outnumbered.  The "girls" have this unspoken union (though I think the 1-year old is TRYING to tell me but it just keeps coming out: DA, DA, DA. (need to brush up on my baby Morse Code)).  Of course, anytime I try to bring up this... theory, I'm met with hysterical laughter followed by a demand for me to fetch her shoes (and that's from the 3-year old!).  So something is not right!

This is a hidden, high-tech operation.  It is complete with spies and obvious modes of sabotage.  Enter the Stealthy Ninja Investigative Tween Childlike Human (or S.N.I.T.C.H for short).  The model we have is 10-years old (going on 11) and it hasn't lost a step!  She is designed to sneak up on the target (me) and report all findings to the "mother"ship.

Most of the time I'm doing something completely innocent (as ALL fathers do) and that's when she strikes.  So, I'm in the kitchen making myself a nice, healthy breakfast (most important meal of the day).  My breakfast is done and I turn around... and... BAM!!!  There she is asking, "Whatcha doin'?"  It's obvious what I'm doing.  I'm making a healthy breakfast to get my day started right (as ALL fathers do).  But she is asking in hopes I'm going to give away more information than I need to so her report will be complete.  Now, I've seen this trick before.  She going to leave it at that an act like that's all that's going to happen.  So I go and enjoy my breakfast and listen.... And there's the report: "Mommy, daddy's eating pizza for breakfast." or "Mommy, daddy's eating a hotdog for breakfast." or "Mommy, daddy's eating spaghetti (or chips, or candy, or some other healthy meal) for breakfast."  You get my point.  And even if she doesn't see "MOMMY" for a whole day... the report is as detailed as if just happened.  Half the time I don't remember doing the "crime" but I won't deny it when questioned.  If she said I did it, I probably did.

Then there's the "Better Recognize" Undersized Toddler Enforcer (or B.R.U.T.E.).  She's only 3 but, apparently, she's the muscle of the operation.  Her job is to make sure I don't get out of line.  I didn't know that's what her job was before but I have since figured it out.  I should have known by the way she laughs when I trip over, run into or drop something that I'm not supposed to.  Also, I find it odd that she only wants ME to read a book to her at night.  I originally thought she just loved me more than her mom.  But now I see the real genius behind the reading.  She only enjoys the book when I allow her to smash my hand between the pages or otherwise hurt myself during the course of the reading.  What in the world was I thinking?!?!?

And the last one is far more devious than the other 2.  Her code name is A.N.G.E.L. (I thought there was some cutie name behind it but there's not.  The name is meant to distract you from her real purpose).  But don't let that name fool you.  Her job is to make sure I wake up every 2 hours on MY night to cater to her needs.  She makes sure I am good and tired every other morning.  Because if I'm sleep deprived, I won't be able to concentrate on a plan to strike back.  But the true evil of the plan is that she does all of this and when you just can't take it anymore... She smiles.  It's like a Jedi Mind Trick!  There's no defense for it.  You just have to avoid it.  And if you don't... She gets what she wants.

Some of you are are doing the math right now then you are probably wondering why I left someone out.  My wife.  You really think I'm going to come up with some acronym to describe my wife.  What kind of fool do you take me for?!?!  You can't make a cute little sentence to describe a woman that is Special With Elegance, Ethics, Talent, Intelligence and Excellence.  That would just be wrong (plus it would get me absolutely nowhere)!  So I'm going to leave it at that.  I just hope the 10-year old doesn't read my blog because I can guarantee my wife will get the message that there is an update before I can finish this sentence.

I am truly the Man Of The House (at least that's what my wife tells me)!

I AM the man of the house and don't let anyone tell you otherwise!  I know, I know... That's a very Old Testament approach to marriage.  But when you've got it... YOU'VE GOT IT! And how do I know I've got it??? My wife and kids let me know.  Plus, I have 5 reasons that fact can't be disputed.

First off... The remote is MINE!  I only ALLOW my wife and kids to use it every now and then (even though the baby just chews on it.  She's not old enough to know the power of the remote.  She also doesn't know that it's DADDY'S!).  And just because they have the remote more than me doesn't mean anything.  I'm a generous MOTH (when I write the acronym for Man Of The House like that, it doesn't sound as manly).  So I let them watch their little silly Hannah Montanas, Micky Mouse Club Houses (I kinda like that one) and their Private Practices.  But when I'm ready to watch my MANLY shows like Football, 24 or Desperate Housewives... they'd better hand over the remote.

Second off... I pretty much do what I want to do.  For example, I go play golf whenever I please.  Whenever I feel like going, I grab my clubs and tell my wife I will be back when I get back.  Now, I haven't played golf since March but that was MY choice.  I CHOSE to not go play golf.  I might CHOOSE to go play soon... like March... 2012. Then again... I might not.

Third off... When the kids want something, they know to go to their mother, FIRST.  Not because she's the final word, but because it's like a corporation.  When you have a concern you don't start out by going to the President.  You start lower and work your way up.  And I have a GREAT wife.  She makes sure most decisions don't get past her because she knows I have more important things to deal with (like golf and Desperate Housewives).  But when something does make it past my wife, I'm a nice MOTH.  I go back and ask my wife what she thinks about the issue.  And a lot of times I just let her have her way.  Then I put my foot down so everyone knows the decision is final!

Fourth off... They all treat my words as law!  When tell them something, they do it.  My 3-year old was taking a bath with the baby.  She decided to "clean" the baby's eyes by getting her hands all lathered up with soap and poking them into baby's eyes.  So my job as MOTH was to straighten this issue out NOW.  Whereas her mother counts to 3, I just told her ONCE!  I don't believe in all of that counting mess.  I told her once and she stopped.  Now... I had to tell her again a little later because 3-year olds have a short memory.  It wasn't that she was challenging me. She just forgot.  It's not her fault.  It's just our species.  And you know what... she stopped again!  That's what I'm talking about.  I did have to take the baby out of the tub after the 3rd time, though.  I didn't want her to be a 4-time victim of the "goldfish" memory of a 3-year old (It's not her fault).

And Finally... I made the decision to NOT have any boys.  My wife wanted at least 1 boy and I told her NO! I didn't want to deal with the inevitable power struggle between fathers and sons (too much of a hassle).  He would stand up to me. I would knock him down. Everyone would be mad.  I would have to put my foot down...  End of story. And then there would be hard feelings for years to come.  So being the intelligent MOTH that I am, I made that decision to save the family a few generations of heartache.  And it was my insight and willpower that made it all happen.  I kept ALL of the Y-Chromosomes to myself (See... even my genes yield to the awesome power that I hold).

So to those thinking I don't have the MOTH status, come on over to the house and see who has the remote (make sure you call to give us at least 5 minutes notice... you know... out of courtesy).  Then if that doesn't convince you, I will show you the control I have over the kids.  I'm sure watching that will shock and amaze you.  And if that still doesn't get you... count how many sons I have.  If that doesn't tell the story, I don't know what does!  Now excuse me... Desperate Housewives is back on.