Solving a Problem MAN Style

For my 3 readers, I apologize for not updating in a while.  We are working on a project at work that is taking a lot of time at work and at home.  But the major part of this will be over this weekend and I can get back to making some updates.

I wasn't planning on making this entry but an event, today, said that I must.  I have posted it on Facebook and have received several responses so I decided to try this here and see what people think.

Today a problem presented itself in the normal fashion and I handled it.  Nothing more.  Nothing less.  There was a problem.  I solved it.  As you can see, I was writing short sentences.  That's the way we “men” think when there is a problem.  What's the quick solution?  What's the easy solution?  If we have to think too long about a problem then we cannot and should not be held responsible for the results.  And if we can solve two problems at the same time we should get a doggie treat!  I did that very thing today and I'm STILL waiting on my treat!

The first problem: Most weekdays I get the kids ready for school.  I feed the 3 girls.  I clothe 2 of the 3 girls.  And I fix the hair of 2 of the 3 girls.  The only reason I don't fix all three of their hair is because my oldest already has reservations about how I handle issues that arise.  I wonder where she got that from!?!  I'm going to make a longer post about the routine but that's not necessarily the problem I dealt with this morning.  The problem is that my 19-month old will NOT stay dressed.  It drives me NUTZ!!!!  She apparently thinks that EVERYDAY is Easter.  She thinks that Daddy would just LOVE one more Easter Clothes hunt.  I will get everyone ready and when it is time to go, I notice a shoe over here, a sock over there... Oh!  Another shoe behind the TV!  Now where's the OTHER sock?  Ah... yes.  Why didn't I think of that?  It's right next to her PANTS!  I also know when the pants drop because the 4-year old starts to sing PANTS ON THE GROUND in true American Idol week 1 – 3 form.  That's problem #1.

Problem #2: I will only assume that my 19-month old is an oddity.  I can only GUESS that there are ZERO 19-month old children that are the same size and shape as mine because NOTHING fits her.  She has the upper body of a 18 – 24 month old but the lower body of a 6 – 9-month old.  That's the only way I can see that ALL of her pants/shorts fall off of her.  So what about a belt? That's a silly question!  Don't you know that children 6 – 9-months old don't wear belts.  Again... I'm just assuming that because we can't find one that fits!  So her pants falling down and being otherwise easy to take off means it gets to be logged as problem #2.

Well.... This morning was like any other morning.  I got the girls ready.  I fed them.  I clothed them.  I did their hair.  And in classic form.... PANTS ON THE GROUND!! PANTS ON THE GROUND!!  OK... I have had enough of this mess.  So I searched high and low for some colorful thing that my wife promises is a belt.  When I started the search there was plenty of time on the clock.  Two personal fouls, 4 free-throws and a technical for bad language later, I'm starting to feel like Butler going up against Duke (For the record, I'm not anti-Duke but it sure would have been nice to see the little guy win one).  My time is running out and I need to make something happen or we are ALL going to be late.  So I stopped looking for the “belt” and started looking for a “belt-alternative.”

(Belt-alternative definition: Something that is NOT a belt but will serve the function of a belt in case said belt is missing or unable to perform its duties.  Often used by those who are creative and in a pinch.  Also, not always approved by the better half).

Ok... Now there is only 5 seconds on the clock and we have used our last time-out.  The other team is quietly celebrating their victory but they forget we have the ball and nothing to lose (but the game).  So I put on my game face and we drive this one home!

I'm not sure where I found the belt-alternative but it was right where it needed to be.  I find a beautiful pink... shoestring.

For those who fail to appreciate the creative mind (as well as genius) behind this I will pause while you let it soak in.  I didn't build the suspense of the shoestring because I didn't even think twice about it at the time.  But the more I thought about it... This was the PERFECT belt-alternative.  It allowed me the ability to kill 2 birds with one stone.  I have found a “belt.”  I put the  shoestring on like a belt. Then I tied it with a nice, pink, little bow (problem solved).  But I've seen this kid work.  I know that this cutesy bow wouldn't hold.  I've seen her take her clothes off and pull everything out of her hair like she was part of a NASCAR Pit Crew.  So to solve problem #2, I put a super-duper, triple-trouble, double-knot on it (It was really just a regular double-knot but it needed a name to go with its glorious purpose).  This knot worked better than expected.  The lady at daycare couldn't even get it undone.  She had to wiggle my daughter out of it just to change her diaper.  I have never been so proud.

Now, my question is... Is this a crowning achievement (that I should be proud of) or simply another daddy fail (that I should ALSO be proud of)?  All I'm saying is that there will be NO PANTS ON THE GROUND TOMORROW!

Check out other great posts on Dad-Blogs: Fatherhood Friday.

Yesterday, Today, Tomorrow

Today is the day I flip the script on my blog.  I will change things in a way they haven't been changed before.  Today will be different (for me anyway).  Today is the most important day of the week, month, year, decade or my lifetime.  Why is today the most important day, you ask (thanks for asking BTW)?  Because TODAY is the only day you (or I) can actually accomplish something.

Yesterday is already gone.  So all of those ideas you had riding on the backs of good intentions have gone into the sunset.  Yeah... you reap the rewards of yesterdays but only if your sow reward-worthy actions.  Whether your crops find you begging on a corner with a 'will work for food' sign or eating a feast like a King (or Queen) the table has been set and it is too late to change your yesterday.

Tomorrow is just as bad.  We all look into this magical place we call the "future" as the day things will be better.  Well, the funny thing about the future is that it stays just THAT.  It is always the future!  If you can't wait to see what the future holds then you will surely die... waiting.  The future will NEVER get here.  And for those who don't believe me... I will gladly trade you 1,000,000 tomorrows for just 1 today.

So today is MY day of change.  I will still write about My Wife, My Kids and My Dogs but my blog is going to expand it's horizons.  Don't tell my wife but my blog has decided to see other people.  I will probably even give my new-found blog a new name and location.  Who knows?  The only thing I'm certain of is that when I do it... it will be today.

The Day I Almost Sold My Dog!

I am posting this blog because this weekend I'm taking my daughter to a gymnastics meet.  Since I'm doing this one alone, I'm SURE there is going to be a post about it when we get back.  So in the meantime, I'm posting one of my earlier blogs that you would have only seen if you were one of my Facebook friends.  But since you are not, here it is...


There might be lots of errors in this because I am too tired to error check. (It is explained below)

I remember this story so vividly. I remember this story even better than if it had happened yesterday. That’s because the day I almost sold my dog… was this morning. I’m going to tell this short little story so those who know my dog will feel that their connection to him has been spared yet another day. This tale is a little graphic so some may want to look away.

This story starts out normal. I was in bed asleep after staying up late (almost midnight) to witness the Lakers almost blow a 14-point lead in the Conference Finals. Now, let’s fast forward just a couple of hours to 4:00AM. As I was getting some really good ZZZZZ, I was awakened by my wife letting me know that my dog had pooped all over the bathroom floor. This was upsetting news for 3 reasons. One, I had just taken him out a few hours ago. Two, it was 4:00AM. And three... MY dog is the GOOD dog!  Surely he didn't do that.  But I was quickly forced back into reality when the smell started filling the room like only dog poop can.  So I got up out of bed and took a peek into the bathroom and it looked like Smokee (my dog) had called some of his friends over to make sure the entire floor was painted a nice shade of brown. Smokee doesn’t normally do this so I didn’t get too upset at first. I assume that this is the after-party when you have a party in your tummy (Yo Gabba Gabba shout out (Seriously, this show freaks me out)).  But my 0 years of veterinarian college tell me that nothing is wrong with him and I leave it at that. My wife brings me the cleaning supplies and then she goes back to bed. I spend about 10 – 15 minutes cleaning up this terrible, TERRIBLE mess. Issue resolved… so I thought.

Now, that my dog is 3 pounds lighter (he only weighs 10 normally) he decides that 4:20 is the perfect time to play. Apparently, this "problem" had really been weighing on his mind (and colon) for a while.  And now that he was free... HE WAS FREE!  He began running around the room and growling as though he doesn’t know what time it is (I must get him a Snoopy Watch). His sudden BURST of energy means that I can't go to sleep either. Being the good husband of a pregnant wife, I take the dog out of the room (thus saving both of our lives). I take him upstairs to the fabled MAN-ROOM so I can watch highlights of the game I just watched a few hours ago and to let him burn off some steam. He runs around for about 15 – 20 more minutes before coming to rest in the middle of the floor. I thought, finally…. Now we can go downstairs and I might be able to get an hour of sleep before I have to start getting ready for work. We go back downstairs, I crawl into bed and all is fine. Issue resolved… so I thought.

I hear my dog start to crawl under the bed. He never does this. So I thought a toy or something was under there. I’m really tired at this point so I don’t care why he’s under the bed. As long as he doesn’t make a lot of noise, I’m fine. Well, the noise continues. I try to tell him to hush without waking up my wife but it’s not working. Then I hear an all too familiar sound. If you have a dog or a cat you know this sound. It’s the sound of an animal yacking! My dog is under the bed throwing up. I’m really upset now. I understand it was my dog that was sick but this was really starting to upset me. So, I go into the kitchen and get the flashlight to see under the bed. There is my dog (barely fitting underneath the bed) with doggie spew (told you this was graphic) hanging from his mouth down to (what else) the air vent. He had thrown up into the air vent. So when the air kicks on it will now fill the room with a nice aroma of dog chuck. I reach under the bed and snatch my dog up and (do what???) throw him back in the bathroom where all of this crap (pun intended) started. I can’t move the bed now because my wife is trying to sleep. SO I go turn the air off so it is at least not circulating the smell into the room. Finally, issue resolved… so I thought.

I REALLY can’t sleep after all of that. So I decided to do something that would make me tired. I started working on the finances and paying bills. Sidenote - It’s amazing how the less money I have, the longer it takes to pay bills and work on a budget. But I get through with as much as I can and realize that I have to start getting ready for work. The sun has already started coming up. It’s 6:00AM now and I have been up for 2 hours. So I creep into the bedroom so as not to wake up my lovely SLEEPING wife. I take 1 barefooted step into the bathroom and almost slip on what I was hoping was some spilled water. But to my UN-surprise, it wasn’t. My awesome dog felt he hadn’t completed his duties as a dog until he left a huge pee puddle on the floor (ARE YOU SERIOUS!?!). I quietly stepped the rest of the way into the bathroom. Once clear of the nice icing on the cake I started to ponder the question of why I ever got a dog to begin with. So I clean doggie mess (AGAIN) and take my shower.

The completely ironic part about this whole thing is that the other dog… my wife’s dog… the BAD dog… was quietly sleeping in his bed the whole time. AND my dog was the one that was recreating a scene from "The Puppy Exorcist".  For the record, He was OK for the rest of the time after that. There is a little more to the whole story but I’m too tired to write. For the life of me, I can’t figure out why I’m so tired! Needless to say, if my dog pulls this crap again tonight, I will see what the going rate is for a Shih Tzu on Ebay. Then the title of my next blog will be  “The Day I Almost Decided to Keep My Dog Before I Received a $5 Bid For Him on Ebay.”SOLD!


This repost was inspired by one of my NEW favorite bloggers:  Check out her "funny" morning too.
Also, there were no doggies harm in the making or writing of this post.  He is still alive and kicking.  Plus, no one reached the $5 mark and I was forced to keep him.


Also, go check out Dad-Blogs.  It's a fun place to read other adventures by other DAD bloggers.

The 4-Year Old Goes from Student to Master

That day started out like any other.  Nothing really special.  But somewhere between Mickey Mouse Clubhouse (Oh, Toodles) in the morning and the reading of Bad Kitty for the 423rd time (even though I like that book)... something happened.

To the casual observer, that day was as normal as the rising and setting of the sun.  But, I'm not a casual observer (I mean, I am... but not for the sake of this story) and this was NO normal day (grammatical error intended).  For those who missed it, I experienced a game-changer in the Father/Daughter relationship.

First off, my 4-year targeted me.  I was minding my own business.  I was just being a good father.  I was thinking of my beautiful wife and kids and what I can do to enrich their lives (Do you believe that?).  Then there was this sweet little voice... "Daddy, I wanna play the ballgame." (for those not living in our house, that is Wii Bowling)  "I wanna pick 2." (again... for y'all (oh, yeah... I threw some Southern in there) that meant she wanted ME to play so there would be 2 people playing).

So we start bowling...  Everything is like it should be.  She bowled a 9-Spare.  I bowled a Strike (now that's what I'm talking about.  I'm technically winning)!  She then bowled a strike.  And I bowled an 8-Spare.  So we are tied now (technically she has the advantage at this point).  Then she makes the normal mistake of opening a frame (didn't knock down all 10 pens).  This is usually where I take control and ride this horsey to victory!  So I bowled an 8-Spare and felt pretty confident that the turning point in the game had just happened in the 3rd frame.  Well, it had.  Just not like I expected.  Here is where little Ms. Sneaky-pants pulled off the greatest "upset" since the Giants beat the Patriots in the Super Bowl.  Or since I found out they were cancelling Jericho.  Or EVEN since finding out the Flava Flav had any kind of TV show (especially one with women fighting for his love... WHAT???).

She started bowling strike, after strike, after strike...  It wasn't even funny anymore.  I would tell you the score but I passed out around the 7th frame when I knew I could no longer beat her.  I had already blocked it out of my memory by the end of the game until the little snot (and I say that with all of the love and affection than can be taken from that word) pulled her next move... "Daddy, take a picture." WHAT THE... Wait!  Take a picture???  For what?  Are you planning on framing the picture and putting it on one of those little motivational "FAIL" posters with sayings under it like: "When it comes to Wii Bowling... 35 is the new 3!" or "Daddy, bowling is not like baseball.  You are SUPPOSED to get strikes!"

I will NOT have that!  I am the MOTH!

She finally beat me for the first time. She also baited me.  She also hustled me. I didn't play her again for about a week.  She had gotten good but didn't let me know it.  And to add insult to injury, when I DID start playing her again, she would do the same thing.  She would play bad against her mom and sister but when it was time to play me she would get out some bowling shoes, a wrist brace, a monogrammed bowling shirt and a headband with the logo of her sponsor, Nike, stitched on it.

Since that day she has really stomped me a few times (including this one that she made me take a picture of while we were in Florida - I'll let you guess who is who).  If y'all (South again) were to watch her you would think she is just being an adorable, innocent little 4-year old that just has a knack for play Wii Bowling.  I'm not even going to try to convince you otherwise.  She's too good at what she does (not that you would believe me anyway).  But I will tell you this...I know better.  I know what her role is in the family dynamics as well as mine.  And right now, my goal is to show her that I will NOT be someone's motivational "FAIL" poster.

The Valentines Day - Plan B Surprise

I said that my next post was going to be about my 4-year old but my procrastination and an untimely (even though it shows up at the same time each year) holiday showed up so I will make an executive decision and flip the script.

I know that most bloggers are going to write something beautiful for Valentines Day.  They are going to talk about how wonderful Valentines Day is going to be.  You are going to read stories about flowers.  You are going to read stories about the date nights.  You might even read a story or two about diamonds (whatever those things are).  Though all of these are great ideas smothered in tradition... sometimes the best ideas should just stay... ideas.

A few years ago I was one of the romantics (my wife might disagree (change the word might to "will")).  OK... I was just a little more romantic than I am now (how does that sound, honey?).  A friend and I would get together and plan something for our beautiful ladies.  A few of those plans included spa treatments, flowers, limos, etc (no diamonds though - moneybags I am not (and neither is he)).  But that year's plan included dinner.  And not just any dinner.  Dinner cooked by the world renowned chef... me (oh and my friend too).

This shouldn't be a problem.  I'm a good cook (my wife will interject here again).  I don't choose to cook a lot but when I do, it usually turns out well.  I'm good at following directions (wife again) and I'm not afraid to go off the beaten path if necessary.  My mom also taught me to cook the things I like well and improvise on the rest.  I think she did that because she didn't think I was ever going to get married and she was preparing her only child for a life of more than McDonald's and Microwaveable Meals (though I still like both).

So, what was on the menu that evening?  Well, I'm glad you asked.  It was a Chicken and Pasta dish and for dessert... Strawberry Shortcake.   The Chicken and Pasta dish wasn't a problem because I'm pretty good with the Angel Hair and the Poultry (bu-GARK! (that was a very poor chicken sound.  But it is text.  What can I do? You should read my Walrus sound.).  But I had to get a recipe for the Strawberry Shortcake.  I hadn't made one of those before.  So I searched for a nice recipe in the biggest recipe book in the world... the internet.

This couldn't be just any recipe, though.  It had to be one that that is a little challenging because the easy recipes just suck!  But it also had the be easy enough for 2 kitchen novices to do without having to looking up words because we don't know what Drizzling, Folding In and Fluting (really didn't know what this one was... still don't) are.  So we picked one that was in the middle of the extremes.  This very logical approach proved to be our undoing.

I want to preface this next paragraph by saying that the Chicken (bu-GARK!) and Pasta was AMAZING!  We did such a wonderful job that we were asked to cook this dish for the Vatican (Is it wrong to lie and use the Vatican for said lie?  I guess we will see.).  But either way, the C and P dish was good.  No complaints there.  But the dessert...

We knew 5 minutes in that the shortcake recipe had some problems.  We followed the recipe to the T.  We even made more than one batch because the first one looked a little odd.  They both looked the same!  They really should have put this recipe under the section of "Men Who Want to Cook for Their Wives With the Intent of Serving Divorce Papers at the End of the Meal.  The shortcakes were terrible.  More than that, they were ugly.  They were week 1 - 4 of American Idol.  They were the Weakest Link (goodbye).  They were literally the Biggest Loser.  After we were done cooking those, we voted ourselves off the island.

I know they say it's the thought that counts.  Well... THEY lied!  We couldn't bring ourselves to serve that to our significant others.  Unless you count the THOUGHT to not serve these, the thought counted for nothing.  So in this case, it was better for us to go to plan B first.  So we went to the store and bought generic shortcakes.  Some may say that we admitted defeat... They would be correct.  But my argument to them is that in the end... We sacrificed the battle to win the war.  We married those significant others and have not regretted the decision to abort the original mission.  If we had chosen plan A... Well... It's possible that we would have been the first 2 couples in history to get a divorce before we ever got married.  And the judge would have awarded them half regardless.

I'm not sure what the point of this post is but I wanted to fit it in for this Holiday season.  So fellas... when you are choosing your great MAC plans to impress, just remember it's not the shards but the cards that counts.  And everyone can't be the A-Team so make sure you have a plan B for those special occasions.

Single, married or otherwise I hope you have a great Valentines day.  But if you didn't/don't let me know.  I would love to hear about that too.  And in the next year or two, I might get with my friend and see what we can do to erase the Strawberry Shortcake memory.