This is how you posterize a one year old. No one was injured in the making of this video, (I lied I strained a hammy.)
The worst part for him is he picked up a foul for blocking. He set up too low in the paint… I love my son, but he isn’t going to learn anything if I take it easy on him right!!? To be the best you gotta beat the best… I love being a dad!
I don’t make this stuff up. I’m not just writing things down to make people laugh… Remember my kid is going to read this in a few years. About a week ago I discussed the topic of being able to put things together did fixing things. I wasn’t kidding when I wrote about my life time ban from power tools.
I mentioned the need to hire outside agencies to assemble anything that has more than three parts and talked about how my level of skill in regards to putting stuff together is on the decline (let’s be honest it’s not on the decline; it was never high enough in the first place to be able to decline). I don’t write stuff on here to purposely be funny or say things that I don’t mean… when i said I do not want to put anything together for Jackson’s birthday I was being serious!
However, we must all remember that I am not in charge… not of myself, my house, my family or realistically even what I can and can’t do… that control belongs to the boss… The Wifey! So when Steph came to me with a gigantic box and asked if I would put the new tricycle together for Jax (and by would you put this tricycle together for Jax she meant… Put this together immediately for Jackson). I told her there was no way she was going to make me assemble this deathtrap! No I’m kidding… of course my answer was yes.
This is not going to end well
I knew immediately I was in for a long night when I emptied the contents of the box on to the kitchen table. There were two different instruction booklets… two… I cant even follow one set of instructions. I began to sweat, and not like a stress sweat… I am talking about the sweat that happens when you know you are responsible for putting something together that your child will ultimately sit on and ride around. His very life rested in my hands which were shaking as tried to steady the flat-head screwdriver (mind you all the screws were Phillips-head!)
Things were shaky in the beginning. I’m not one to get all the tools I need before I start building something. i like to use the wait and see approach. Maybe I can put the entire tricycle together with what a found in the kitchen drawer. Let’s see… I have a toothpick, flat-head screw driver, scissors and scotch tape. Done and DONE! (Realistically, I would go on to need a hammer, two different size screw drivers, an adjustable wrenches, a set of ratchet set and a yes, I used the scissors).
I moved through the directions step by step and seemed to be making progress. There were a few occasions where I wish I had a “phone a friend” lifeline available, but pushed through and wound up putting together one of the most wobbly and crooked looking tricycles this side of the Mississippi.
I warned Stephanie that we may want to put a few pillows underneath Jax as we sat him on the possibly upside down seat, but we figured if he fell off… it would only make him stronger later in life.
Here is the results of three hours of work, numerous curse words and a tricycle that was supposed to have been built with all the parts included… (I had four left over):
“Hey mom, you sure this is safe?”
Sharing is caring!
#BestFriends
#BusterAndJax
Family photo (before any of the blood, boogers or tears ahowed up)
Between the dining room being in shambles, getting ready to host a first birthday party, and spreading ten yards of mulch, you’d think we’d take the weekend to finish everything and clean up. I mean even God rested one day.
But these two parents don’t conform to the masses. We don’t do “normal”. What we do is anything but traditional. We go, we do, we make moves. So in between a gym visit, a quick, but effective nap for all and cleaning saw dust out of every nook and cranny in the house, we crammed in enough excitement to fill up an entire week off.
We hit the road early this morning for music class. There was singing and dancing and daddy getting yelled at for talking to much. Pretty normal. Nothing out of the ordinary.
Then it was off to visit our favorite camera couple at Pink Elephant Photography. This whole baby thing happened so fast I can’t even remember where the time has gone. Today we pulled up to the studio almost eleven months after nervously arriving for his newborn photo shoot… And here we were, arriving for his first birthday.
You know you are in good hands when your son is photographed with duct tape holding his shirt on and the photographers commend you for your quick thinking fashion fix. Our Pink Elephant ladies do an excelled job with our little man. We only had to consider tying him to the tricycle once, and that was only after I dropped him.
So here’s where things started to take a turn for the worse. I’m not going to sit here and tell you that the photo shoot was all rainbows and butterflies, because it wasnt. It was a hard fought victory for the adults. Four adult brains working together to outsmart an almost one year old. You’d think the scales would be tilted towards the adult brains, but anyone who’s ever participated in an infant photo shoot knows better.
It took wit and extreme bribery. And I’m not ashamed to admit it. Three outfit changes, a bruised eyeball, and gobs of baby hairgel would have you dangling whatever you could infront of your kid too. Those poor, patient ladies… Just sitting there with the camera ready to snap away as every Small Potatoes album played over and over… It must have been like nails on a chalkboard after a while.
Birthday Bread/Cake (made with love)
But once mommy brought out that amazing “Birthday Bread” fresh out of the oven for the “cake smash” we hit the point of no return. How can you argue with two parents so determined to keep up with the latest baby trends that they would be willing to sit their half naked son in a stranger’s basement and encourage him to “Hulk Smash” an icing covered cake (bread)?!! A few months ago I would have laughed at the thought of a “cake smash” photo shoot, yet here I was pushing my kid’s palm into a frosted banana bread. (Parent tip: kids hate icing this young… Use some “treats,” we used his cereal puffs, to trick his little brain into wanting to attack the cake.)
OK people, listen, by now you know me… I’m not sugar coating anything here. It is what it is… and you know what you’re getting with these two parents. We’re not perfect… We do some things we might not always be proud of (dropping Jax off of a tricycle and bruising his eye being one), but in the end how can you argue with the two people who made this:
With Jackson’s first birthday quickly approaching the gift ideas that are being tossed around scare the hell out of me. “We should get him a swing set or one of those jungle gym-club house swing set combos,” Stephanie says, with the ease of someone who’s only responsibility once we buy it is to pick out a spot to put it. There would be no thought of the manual labor that goes into erecting a structure of this magnitude.
Maybe I should clarify. The manual labor is not the problem… The skill involved with the manual labor is. Until recently I wasn’t allowed to use power tools or even anything sharp and even now, Jay still has no idea I own a jigsaw and an ax.
I used an ax and split wood. Bc I’m a MAN. an M.A.N. MAN
Matching a tie to a shirt, picking out the perfecting fitting suit… That’s more my style. I learned from the best. My dad is still one of the best dressed people I know. When it comes to tools and fixing stuff… Let’s just say Dad got things done, but usually quite unconventionally and definitely not way the instructions described the process.
I’m surprised my brother, sister and I are still alive after all the things my dad built for us when we were kids. Case in point: our swing set. I loved our swing set (every kid in the neighborhood wanted to get on the “spinner-winner). But that thing was a damn death trap… I don’t know about you guys, but whenever we went a certain height there was that one pole that started coming out of the ground. Every time on those swings was a life or death event… Yet we loved every second of it.
I’m no better, shower head installation = broken shower pipe. Bathtub sealing = leaking ceiling. New screen door = door with no screen. Hang picture frame = Picture frame sized hole in wall. Wire new kitchen light = no power for three hours.
I’m stating this for the record now… Anything that Jackson gets for his first birthday or anything in general he gets that requires assembly, including a swing set, I’m paying to have it built and installed.
Lemme tell ya something…
Good idea: change batteries in smoke alarms…
Bad idea: leave alarms on bathroom sink while wife takes shower so steam sets them off waking baby.
Oops!
National Sibling’s Day is a day to celebrate the people who’ve known you the longest… Were your first best friends, your first enemies and now your child’s god parents! Thanks for being the 2nd and 3rd best looking siblings in the family @triciak0524 and Vinny.
These three are nothing but trouble
Planning a first birthday party is literally the most stressful and ridiculous thing I may have ever endured in my entire life. Maybe that’s my problem… maybe I’ve become too involved. Maybe I’m not supposed to be involved, maybe I’m supposed to sit back and let it happen… maybe I’m not even supposed to know when the date of the party is. You know, maybe I just kind of show up like it’s my own surprise birthday party.
Where is it exactly that we’ve gone wrong? When did we think that a one year old needed a Royal Coronation to celebrate his first year on Earth?
I’ve enjoyed everything and every second of this past 11+ months, but I’m not sure I’m the right guy for the birthday planning job. I have the attention span of a preschooler and no ability to deal with indecision. Yet I am flashed Pintrest photos every 12 seconds and am now having dreams about nautical themed party favors.
You’d think after all these years Stef would know that I can’t process anything after 7:00pm. I want to be part of planning things for Jax. I just can’t tell the difference between the New England lighthouse napkin holder and the Myrtle Beach lighthouse napkin holder… and I’m not sure I ever want to. I feel awful, but after 20 minutes it’s like listening to Charlie Brown’s teacher.
Don’t get me wrong I like to have a say in things, but I’ll stick to having a say in things in know about… Unfortunately party planning is not on that list.
If there was any question about this child possessing any of my DNA, this morning all the doubt was put to rest.
I witnessed my son sneeze, followed by him realizing there was a gigantic booger dangling from his nose. He then without hesitation wiped said booger with his sleeve.
Kid is 100% mine.
You know things are bad when Buster brings you a chewed up spoon and he wasn’t even the one who did it
There are so many things that can wrong on a daily basis. We’ve all seen them, hell we’ve all had them happen to us. I know everyone reading this has slept through the alarm, backed into the garage door or said something you shouldn’t have when you thought you hung up the phone.
That’s life. We were put on this earth to screw up and laugh at each other when we do. However, what happens when you start screwing things up and it starts a chain of events likely to end in disaster? I can’t tell you that it ain’t pretty because I lived through that tonight.
A simple attempt at face-timing while preparing two dinners, entertaining an 11 month old and remembering to feed to hungry dogs can turn any organized dad into a panicking lunatic. Even after putting in countless hours of supervision and surviving what at the time seemed like traumatic events never prepares you for a series of unfortunate events (great book series by the way).
After face timing former guest blogger Uncle Mike things got scary. We had been off the phone for two minutes and things already began falling apart. I left my dinner in the oven a little too long and it started smoking which caused the fire alarms to go off. Jackson then proceeded to per all over me as I held him naked over his tubby that was overfilling and spilling everywhere. This then resulted in Buster and Max running in circles barking at the fire alarm and the crying baby!
Any normal human loses their mind at this point… like you’re done, you’ve checked out and gone to your happy place. Not here though… not at Chromicles of a New Dad… here we laugh in the face of danger and run circles around the competition. We don’t rest on our laurels (remember I’ve been called an internet blogging sensation as well as the song bird of my generation… Ok so I made those up… It’s my blog I can say what I want!).
The trick to solving all this… take a deep breath, and tackle one situation at a time, or just sit on the bathroom floor while the little guy is in the tubby taking a bath and pray that your wife gets home soon.
I’ll leave it up to you to decide what option I chose.
Sorry Sons: Chronicles of a New Dad 