My Kids > OCD (Only on December 26th)

Every toy has been unwrapped, opened, put together, had batteries installed and played with. Now to shove them in a corner so the boys can play with the toys Jackson got for his first birthday three years ago. Matching outfits are packed away never to be seen again until the above picture comes out at some holiday get together 20 years from now.

Elfie has returned to the North Pole… (thank god)!!! Santa has come and gone and in his wake is enough cardboard and wrapping paper to pollute the Mississippi River (I still can’t spell without that little tune we learned in third grade). Only one wine glass was broken yet somehow 30 more boxes of decorations than we owned last year seem to have made their way into the attic.

I’ve written about this before, but I still contend that the day after Christmas (especially for someone with OCD) is the worst “day after holiday” of the year. Yea, I know what I’m saying… I was up all night and celebrated a Packers Super Bowl win just a few years ago and had to get up early the next day for work, but that was a joyous wake up… my team won the Super Bowl, so who cares about that day after… I get it… but for me the day after XMAS has always been a disaster.

However, this year… I tried to let it go as best as I could. I let stuff stay out, I didn’t pack up ornaments or the garland on the mantle. the leftovers weren’t nearly packed in separate Tupperware (yup… that’s right, I just covered them with tinfoil). I allows my children to play with their toys and didn’t even make them put one away before playing with another. I sat comfortably while a fire burned warmly in the fireplace, and enjoyed watching my two little boys play together with all the new toys Santa left them the day before.

This Christmas was about them… not me… not anyone… just them… and I enjoyed that much more than a day of OCD controlled cleaning and organizing like I usually do on December 26th… (at least for today).

Eight Months

Stop me if you’ve heard this before, but it feels like just yesterday that this little chunk was born. A lot can happen in eight months… when you take a step back and think about that amount of time in a vacuum it seems like forever, but in this case eight months have flown by. 

  • Weight: large watermelon 
  • Length: second notch on his walker-car
  • Eating pasta, pizza crust, apples and bread
  • Crawling 
  • First Haircut
  • Loves playing w his colored cup-stackers 
  • Enjoys watching the dogs run and around and play
  • Stops crying when Jackson sings “Rock-A-Bye Baby” to him
  • Watched his first regular season Green Bay Packers game (9.10.17- SEA 9 – GB 17)
  • Became a cousin for the first time (to baby Dominic)
  • Loves to laugh

Oliver Potter and the Staci Miller Newborn Photos

I’m not sure if i have a writing style… if you had to narrow it down I know a few people might say my style is “grammatically horrible,” or “not really funny”… something like that. First Person Narrative… I guess that’s the closest you can get to narrowing down the writing. I mean the blog is titled Chronicles of a New Dad… I’d like to think I’ve Chronicled my perspective on having kids in a unique way.

But, today… I’ve decide to change it up a bit… I needed to tell someone thanks. Thanks for quite a bit actually. So I’m changing things up a little bit and am going writing letter style.

Dear Staci Miller (Photography),

It’s been almost three years since you came into our life… expensive Nikon camera, gorgeous props and the patience of a saint. Yes, early on in our relationship you had a different name… Pink Elephant… different but still amazing. And that’s just it… i needed to thank you for bringing amazing to life.

Not many people can take the thoughts that swim around in this weird brain of mine… take those abstract ideas and make them concrete. You’ve successfully, in essence, painting the pictures of my mind and put them on canvas. You’re an artist with a flash and lost of fluorescent lighting.

The thing is, that’s not even what makes these pictures a masterpiece. It’s the fact that you have to deal with me… a hyper… anxiety riddled parent who is obsessed with details. I’m the Jack Nicholson (As Good As It Gets Nicholson) of parenting during new born photos. OCD to the max.

You’ve taken photos of a wizards hat and wand… you successfully posed an infant on a giant piece of cheese and most impressive of all captured numerous shots while getting peed on. It’s impressive to say the least.

There was the time at the barn where Jackson got bit by a rooster, the time where we got you caught up in a beach wedding with Miller Highlife cans in the background, the session where I made you take pictures of my sons butt and the time my pants were too tight to help hold Oliver’s head up. I admit to ruining quite the few “perfect shots.”

You took pictures while my son puked on your floor, peed on your brand new background and shattered glass Christmas ornaments (ok the ornaments were my fault… and I may have eaten a few cheese sticks out of your fridge, but you catch my drift… we’re not easy subjects to photograph.

But that all pales in comparison to the latest sitcom-like experience. You know the one where I made you snap photos of my son inside a flower pot while he was screaming (purposefully making him cry, because that’s what Mandrakes do in Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets… (which by the way is my least favorite book and movie).

You did it all with a smile on your face and 85mm – 135mm lens in your hand (is that a real thing I know nothing about cameras?). You always welcomed us in your home, or your studio or some random farm, which if I were you I’d suggest every time since then Jackson can’t eat all your cookies and string cheese.

And for some reason you keep having us back and the pictures get better each time we do. For that… I thank you… from the bottom of my Harry Potter loving heart.

And then the unprofessional, I should have been helping instead of sneaking pictures w my iPhone, pictures:


Here is the link to Jackson’s newborn photos:

The “FROZEN” Tundra of Green Bay

As I sit here drinking my Luke warm coffee in my sleeveless packers tshirt, the pure delight like that of a kid on Christmas morning… For the greatest day of the year has finally arrived… It’s opening day… It’s GAME DAY… It’s the Packers first football game of the season today.  

Yet I can’t quite connect with my feelings. There’s something I can’t quite put my finger on… I should be Marching Parade around the house happy… In my Aaron Rodgers jersey doing push- ups on the back porch happy… Yelling “Go Pack Go” for all of the neighborhood to hear happy!!! But I just can’t get in the mood for some reason…

As I sit here writing and thinking and reflecting Jackson is chanting “FroFro” as the DVD ends… AGAIN. Because of that I have to go restart Frozen for the 7,853rd time today. Hang on… That’s it… Is that the reason it doesn’t feel like football yet? Because I’m watching an animated Disney movie on repeat?  

There has to be some sort of connection here. There’s no way my son… The son of a Green Bay Packers Owner, the same kid who knows no letters EXCEPT the letter “G”… Would choose Frozen over the NFL’s opening day. The Packers opening game. 


… That’s it… This kid is a genius! Hit play on that DVD kid it’s time for some football!


A Christmas Story in our Front Yard

IMG_2730Poor little guy! #ChristmasStory #Randy #ICantPutMyArmsDown #DaddysGonnaKillRalphy


Christmas Story is still the most overexposed yet underrated movie of all time. Just a straight up holiday tradition in our family. Christmas Eve = A Christmas Story marathon.

I’ve heard people talk about how it’s so overexposed and overplayed that it has lost it’s shine. Yes Turner Television owns the rights to this movie and basically plays it from Thanksgiving to Christmas on repeat and yes it’s one of the most quoted movies of all time. But to hear people say they don’t enjoy it anymore… Well fine… Don’t watch it; that means more Bumpus Hounds for me!

The thing is if you watch the film for nostalgia, it’s great. If you watch it as a family tradition, it’s perfect. But if you’re like me then you watch it for the supporting cast who make the movie what it is.

The Old Man…. Just an angry dad. He’s pissed at work, he’s pissed at the furnace and has one of the greatest quotes of all time: “Frah-GEE-lee … must be Italian.” (He’s also a Packers fan and calls the Bears the Chipmunks of Chicago!)

Mom… Mom is just that mom. The quintessential loving and overprotecting mom. Ralph’s swears… She makes him eat soap, but feels so guilty she tastes it too. Ralphy gets into a fight and she hides the truth from the old man. Through and through this mom is creating some good old fashioned Momma’s boys! Her reaction to The Old Man every time he says something stupid reminds me if how Steph looks at me when I try to tell her I know how to fix something.

Randy… Poor kid. Left behind, left out and overlooked, but leaves us with such memorable scenes as the one above, the “show me how piggies eat”, and his amazing reaction to his brother in a pink bunny suit. (Who hasn’t laughed at their siblings misery before?).

Honorable Mention: Flick…
Set off the TRIPLE-DOG-DARE craze and possibly Influenced an entire generation of people who were scared to death of getting stuck to anything frozen!