Author Archives: Peter

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Is There a Law Against… Showers?

I’m writing this blog with the hope for some validation… maybe even a little reassurance.  This may come as one of my more odd entries, but I think those parents out there may be able to connect (those of you who aren’t parents… continue reading because I promise this is something you will wonder about when you do become a parent).  It’s something I’ve been wondering about… not necessarily something I’ve thought about on a regular basis, but something that after tonight needs to be addressed…

Where does society stand on the “take a bath/shower with your kid” thing? I know this is a completely creepy question, I’m sure many people are going to wonder what the hell I am talking about and I’m confident that a lot of you KNOW EXACTLY WHAT I AM TALKING ABOUT!!!

Kid looks like Mugatu played (Will Ferrell) in #Zoolander

So bathtime around here for the little guy is a blast. Jax is all about bathtime. He is a nut about his tubby and some bubbles.  That’s not the issue.  I don’t have any problems with that.  But what happens when you have no time, no help and are just plain and simple exhausted and don’t want a huge production?

Shower? Why not… Quick and easy… Problem is you can’t put a one year old in the shower alone.  (I think it’s like a gremlin).   So that brings us to today. I hesitated… But in the end decided to get in the shower with Jax. Many things ran through my mind… What if he pees on me? What if he sees “it”? Are there laws against this sort of stuff? Creepy I know… But there even came a point where I thought maybe we should both be in a bathing suit (see above clip from Big Daddy).

So either way the deed is done and I’m still not sure where I stand on the whole issue.  Thoughts?

PS: I want to give a little backround on my thoughts about baths in general. I don’t know a lot of guys, or people for that matter, who still take baths. I mean, here’s the thing, if you get past the fact that baths are completely gross (IE: you sit there in your own filth) baths actually don’t seem too bad; however, I would tend to think most would say it’s just kinda gross to sit there in the dirt that you are actually trying to wash off yourself.

Now, I know there are the people who shell out way to much money to have a bathtub with “whirlpool” capabilities… but those “hoity-toity” types (See: Stephanie) realistically are just dropping a bar of soap in a hottub and calling it a bath. 

The other thing that drives me absolutely nuts about a bath is the fact that I can get in a shower with the water running at 895 degrees and love it… but no matter what I do to the water in the tub it’s always too hot. There is nothing I can do other than run the water and wait for it to cool down. The problem is in a tub the water goes from boil an egg hot to shrivle your man parts cold in 3.2 seconds. There is no way to calculate the exact tempature to time ratio that allows you to enjoy the whole reason you would take a bath in the first place… relaxation.  

If I am going to take a bath and sit in my own disguistingness then I don’t want to have to do any work… having to constantly turn on the hot water, then cold water, then hot again… well that just negates my wish to not have to do any manual labor.  

I’ll stick to showers… By myself… Maybe!

if you’re going to take a bath… own it. The Hugh Hefner robe is a must!

This blog entry has been featured on Honustmum.com as a Brilliant Blog Post.

This blog entry has been featured on Honustmum.com as a Brilliant Blog Post.

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Jimmy Freaking Fallon

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“Hey dada look, I found Jimmy Fallon’s book… where is your book?”

Jimmy F-ing Fallon.  Everything about Jimmy FREAKING Fallon is starting to tweek my last nerve… not terrible nerve pain… but more of a dull throb of my last nerve.  I can’t stand it, I can’t stand the jealousy coursing through my veins right now.  It is a maddening feeling. Everything about this SOB is perfect… his hair, his job, his jokes, his “superstar” status… he totally stole it from me.  The guy is like the perfect version of me… (minus the fact that I am not famous, can’t rap, don’t chill with Justin Timberlake and closest I’ve ever been to the Tonight Show was a pre-printed autograph photo of Jay Leno that I once got in the mail).  I mean think back a few years, he was the character on SNL who couldn’t get through thirty seconds of a sketch without laughing (see: Debbie Downer w. Lindsey Lohan)… and now he is basically King Midas.  Everything this guy touches turns to gold.

I’m sitting here mashing the keyboard on my “Dad Blog” stoked to recieve 17 views a day, and passing my “Dad Book” out to publishers like its a free condom at senior prom… and this dude writes seven words max and is a New York Times Best Selling Author?!!! WTF Jimmy… save some for the rest of us.

Here is the thing though, I love the guy, like I literally would dump all my childhood friends to chill with him.  He seems so much cooler than the guys I grew up with (they are so overrated; I can say those things about my friends because I know there is no way in hell they are reading this).  I love the fact that he just seems like an average guy, just wants to hang out and laugh at immature crap and drink beer.

In an interview Fallon told MPR News, “I just want the baby’s first word to be ‘dada.’ I don’t care if she’s smart. I have one agenda.”  Totally my views on parenting.  Steal the show, steal the fame and live to tell another day. That quote brings us to the main point of today’s blog, Jimmy’s book,  Your Baby’s First Word Will Be Dada.  What a parenting power move.  I sat here for days on end basically saying “Dada” until the word iteself sounded weird.  I caught so much heat for it.  Parents, in-laws and the wife gave me grief for not being equal in the first word teaching techniques and then you have Fallon… he just does the same thing and can call it research for his new book.

So unfair.  So Jimmy.  Guy can’t do anything wrong. I would be surprised if Jackson’s first word wasn’t Jimmy.  Damn you Fallon!

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PS: Fallon was right… 

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Weird is the New Normal

 

Like father, like son

Being a parent is so interesting. I consider myself one of the weirdest people I know… besides my group of friends… Between Miguel, Adam, Eli and especially the oddest one of them all RFizzle you would expect nothing would be able surprise me anymore.

We’ve dealt with a variety of odd situations… Cambodian cages, mini golf swimming hole, grenade whistles, randomly yelling, “LET’S STAY FOCUSED HERE!”  Then there was a bunch of crazy Santa’s taking over Danbury…  somewhere in there was a friend getting yelled at for not being able work their cell phone and a few of us being scolded by Kimbo Slice.  I actually witnessed someone pay for a round of drinks in pennies… his response…”Isn’t this AMERICA?!!!”  Its evident that the people I associate with should have prepared me for the things I would witness, hear and say now that I am a parent.  

 Yet, I still sit here today in awe of the things that I find myself involved with when it comes to this kid… this wonderful, amazing and just plain weird kid!  I find myself witnessing things that I know no other human being has witnessed before; I also find myself saying things out loud and then thinking to myself, “I cant believe I just said that to another member of my own species.

The other day I watched my son, walk waddle as quickly as his knobby little knees would take him over to Buster.  It was as close to a run as a wobbly one year old can get.  Then I watched in horror as he took a full on swan dive on top of the dog.  I am talking a dive that would have won him a drunk belly flop contest at any Sandals Resort in the world!  As he turned slowly a smile formed and at the corners of his lips a witnessed a little drool form and then fall on poor Buster’s head.  An absolutely aggressive move.  Not even so much the long jump knocking all the air from Buster’s little puppy lungs, but the drool.  Nothing says I own you more than getting your saliva on someone.  Spitting is disrespectful and hateful, but drooling on them says “I OWN YOU!”

Last night I found myself saying, and I quote: “Jackson, DO NOT try to balance your sippy cup in between your chest and the coffee table!  Jackson… DO NOT WALK AROUND THE COFFEE TABLE WITH THE SIPPY CUP BALANCED BETWEEN YOUR CHEST AND THE COFFEE TABLE!”  How did my brain even formulate this sentence… how did my mouth even form the letters needed to sound this sentence out? Just picturing a half naked baby with his little chubby arms in the air as he navigates his way around the coffee table in a death-defying feat of balance.  Smile as big as the Grand Canyon, giggling like a school girl and just as carefree as lion in the Serengeti.

I’ve witnessed many weird things in my life, hell I’ve done many things in my life that you would categorize as weird.  Which is expected with the company I keep.     

     

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What it Means to be a Dad


I never know his to start these things. It’s always so weird thinking that there are people out there who read my stuff other than my family and friends. I mean you don’t know me. The only thing u all have in common is you’re bored at work and looking for something to read that hasn’t blocked by your boss on the Internet. I’ve enjoyed writing this blog almost as much as I’ve enjoyed being a father the last 13+ months. It’s never boring, it’s never easy… But most of all it’s never NOT worth it.

I’ve tried to touch on some topics that everyone encounters… Fathers, mothers, families, friends of people with kids, etc. here’s the thing, I still don’t think I’ve really been able to figure out what it really means to be a father.

Having a kid is like having an insane parrot glued to your shoulder. Sometimes I think how much I love him. I look at him and think I couldn’t love any person any more right now. And sometimes… maybe even in the same minute… I think to myself maybe I’ll just leave him at the next gas station. I think that sums up fatherhood decently right… Love and Frustration.

So what else? I think being a father is about learning to focus on the things you do well and asking for support with the things that you’re not so good at and being able to share the responsibilities. A perfect example to this point: I don’t know what I would do if Stephanie didn’t take care of our monetary situation. I’m not even sure how to use an ATM. The wife knows the bank we use. I couldn’t even ball park how much money we have. Thank god I can rely on her to keep us out of the red. So I guess that’s another fatherhood descriptor… Sharing and Reliability.

I keep going back to being able to teach my son about the world… How to handle certain situations and maneuver through an ever changing society. There are so many important lessons I want to teach my son… important things, tidbits of knowledge necessary to survive. Like… How how to open a sleeve of saltines without breaking them into a million pieces when you try to get them out. I’d like to teach him how to end a conversation normally. I can’t just walk away from a conversation. Have you ever tried to walk away? I’m always trying to say something witty and funny, but it usually just comes out sounding creepy. I guess being a father means being a teacher too.

In all reality I think the biggest thing I’ve learned being a dad just to be there for my son. Through ups and downs, as long as I’m around I think we’ll be ok.

One of the greatest “dad moments” ever… “no Olympic emotional outburst is ever likely to dislodge Derek Redmond’s Olympic 400 meter dash at the 1992 Games. What made this moment special was that it brought into focus not just the near-heroic desperation of a single professional athlete but a much more universal theme: the nature of parenthood.”

After hearing his hamstring pop and realizing his Olympic Dreams were over, Redmond got up off the track and refused to be helped off. With about 120 meters still to go Jim Redmond, Derek’s father hoped the barrier and reached his son. He puts his arm around him and whispered, I’m here son. We’ll finish this together.”

  
    
        

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Not the Same

We’re just not cut out to be going out by our selves anymore.  We’re just not those people anymore.

“Go out, just the two of you.” 

“Yup guys need a date night.”

“Get a babysitter, I’m sure Auntie Tricia would love to babysit!”

Sounds great in theory. Everyone eeds a little time to themselves. Every couple needs to spend some “us” time.  Stephanie and I deserve some “us” time for sure… FOOOWWWW SHHHHOOOOOWWWW! But the thing is… I’m not so sure we’re better off without our third wheel.  

Things seem to just work out better when the little guy is around.  Food tastes better, drinks are colder and the night just seems more fun.

Yet, for some reason the one time we leave him home and head out on an adventure by ourselves, all hell breaks loose.  There’s a time and place for everything… There’s a time to be serious and a time to laugh.   Unfortunately there’s nights like tonight which don’t fit in any category.

New outfit to go out… $50 Bucks. dinner out… $124 bucks. Crapping your pants in a public restroom… PRICELESS!   

Oops

Maybe next time we’ll just do take out!  Good thing we don’t have to pay the babysitter! 

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Emma and Jax

 Sunny days on B-Run used to be filled with solo cups and whiffle balls.  It was all about single friends finding summer love (if only for a night).  I loved those nights.  I loved those weekends.  Reminiscing is good, it’s an effective way to put a smile on your face.

Then again, living in the past is not an effective way to enjoy the amazing things you have in your life now (unless you are a former hurdle champion… then its ok to occasionally include the past in your daily day dreams).

This past weekend lacked the solo cups and whiffle balls, it lacked tons of people and a bunch of people crashing on the basement couch/floor.  But it did include great friends and time to relax from the craziness of what is everyday life.

It’s nice to be able to spend some time relaxing with people you enjoy being around… grilling up some sausage patties and then falling asleep with a chocolate cannoli beer on your chest.

I’m more happy that Jax and Emma get along so well!

 

  

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Birthday Thanks

I have never been a huge fan of birthdays.  I’m just not someone who enjoys he spotlight or wants to draw attention to mysel…… hahhahahaa I almost got through that with out laughing out loud.   

I wanted to share some of my more enjoyable birthday wishes…   

pretty much sums me up

 

it’s like looking into a mirror

#Truth

Facebook is basically my calandet

  

Who needs enemies wwhen you have friends like this

  

This would be awesome ##DeathEatersAsClowns #IHateClowns

    

Gotta love family

  

Birthdays used to be about me… Not that I ever really was all about birthdays anyway.  But, years ago I only had to share my bday with Kate Upton and Judy Garland and that C- minus comedian Bill Burr (kidding Burr is freaking hilarious).  

Now, my birthday is another day I get to spend with this little weirdo:  

   

In all reality… This is all I need for my birthday:  

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A Dad’s First Steps (A Research Article)

These days people are trying to see what it’s like to be someone else… Put on a “disguise”, be an “undercover boss,” and you even hear about movie stars dressing up as their characters for upcoming roles… Well I think it’s time I did some research for this blog and for parents everywhere.  It’s time to “walk a mile in my son’s shoes.” (I mean that figuratively of course bc I wouldn’t be caught in those Stride Rite’s)

As Jax begins his journey walking I wanted to get a feel for the nervousness, excitement and determination it takes a 13 month old to continue getting up fall after fall. And that I did…

This is a classic example of a dad trying to be cool. “No, no really I got this… I don’t need any help.” Immediately followed by a fall to my death or worse torn suit pants. There’s no doubting the confidence that was gained from the first two or three successful steps on those stilts. I had confidence coming in waves… only to end in disaster.

How much would you have paid to be one of the lucky ones to see this clown fall?

Look, at some point you have to just realize walking just isn’t for you any more… especially when you are facedown on a cold role floor. There are only a finite number of high pressure steps one person can navigate through before succumbing to gravity… and I hit my quota pretty early on.

The look that says, “ohh crap Ijust killed my boss!”

At this point I felt like a horse who just needed to be taken out to pasture and put out of his misery… Please just drop a sheet over me and go on with your day.

Luckily this kid has a better sense of balance than his father as he learns to maneuver through the world using his new found mode of transportation.  Yes he may look like a drunken sailor and yes he may look like his knees don’t work when he walks… But at least he’s better at it than his dad… And at least now his dad knows the pain of learning to walk again.

A split for the ages… Glad that hurdling flexibility is still coming in handy.