Tonight was one of those nights where you just are happy to be close to your family. It was a long day here, but it was comforting to be able to relax a little with my oldest son before bed.
While reading with him however, he fell asleep mid book. My arm is now trapped under him. I feel like I’m going to have to gnaw it off to escape. In case this is the last blog I write please know it’s been fun while it lasted.
We do this family Christmas photo event every year and every year it’s a debacle. I just don’t understand why we continue to put ourselves through it. More so, I don’t know why Staci keeps letting us back. Although, this year she smartened up and made us take photos deep in the forest where no one could hear the screams.
The best way to describe the process is to break it down into chunks. Each section brings its own problems and creates its own issues. All atr equally chaotic and none are mutually exclusive… they occur naturally and each that proceeds the next creates and increases the chaos.
The Pre Photo Phase:
The whole morning routine is thrown to shit. Everyone is up at the same time, which means my morning coffee is sucked down while trying to wrangle two cranky toddlers who want nothing more than some apple juice and a few episodes of Blaze and the MonsterMachines. Instead I’m squeezing their heads through matching button down flannels and cardigans. The screams can be heard from neighborhoods afar. Feeding them goldfish for each article of clothing they successfully put on is all I can do to stop child protective services from showing up at my front door.
Once everyone is layered up with enough fleece and corduroy to protect from even the deepest freeze of Mount Everest, we all realize that mom hasn’t even started to get changed. Her 12 outfits still lay neatly on the bed each screaming to be lucky enough to be chosen as this years Christmas’ photo regalia.
As the tiny humans begin to unravel downstairs they wait for their fashionista of a mother to emerge from behind the velvet curtains and through the fog machine to cheers and excitement like a Victoria Secret Model on some primetime fashion show.
The Travel Phase:
Each of the past five years has ended in some sort of travel mishap, or disaster. The cars aren’t the same, but the results always are. Somehow, someway the travel phase always results in violation points on someone’s license and children so tightly squeezed into their booster seats that their eyes are likely to pop out.
Each round trip to and from family photos has produced some pretty significant accidents and lofty fines. Two accidents (one involving the photographer herself), a half injured turkey, and a speeding ticket (or two). We’ve been lost so many time we now know the backroads of New England better than Cookie Monster on Waze.
The Photo Phase:
Cue the most amazing photographer who’s ever walked the Earth. “AUUUUNNNNNTTTTIEEEEE STAAAAAAACCCCIIIIIIIIIII!!!!”
You can heat them from across the Christmas tree farm. You can see her turn slowly, like it’s a horror movie. Her hair flips slowly as her wide smile turns into a grin that is half happy to see you… maybe it’s more half paranoid about what’s about to happen.
She smartens up each time she meets us, this time she has set up stations. That’s the trick with toddlers. Keep them on the move, keep them guessing and don’t let them catch their breath. It’s almost like running the hurry up offense. Keep the clock moving and keep the entire defense on the field. Eventually they’ll tire out.
Props are just par for the course when taking Christmas photos. They can provide the perfect backdrop for two brothers. The trick is getting that photo snapped before the props become weapons. The beautifully painted wooden “Let it Snow” sign that bear the calligraphy of a professional become shields for chocolate-chip cookie ninja stars.
And the tricycle that was perfectly set up in between two symmetrical Douglas firs quickly becomes a get away vehicle.
The Post Photo Phase:
Pictures happen quickly. There are lots of moving parts, lots of bribery and lots of tears. It takes the patience of a saint. Staci, Saint Staci that is, has it. She perpetuates sainthood. She’s good, she’s really good.
The photo session comes to end with as much anticipation as the end of a root canal. With puddles of tears, new clothes stained and tattered, the cries slowly quieted (and that was just from mom and dad). The kids on the other hand were hyped from the 15 Candid Cookie Eating takes, but I digress.
After herding these animals back towards the parking it was finally time to breathe a sigh of relief. Kids are tired. Parents are tired. Hell, the photographer is tired. It’s time to hitch a ride out of there.
Things are never easy and we always say we’ll never go through it again. That is… until we see the magic that Staci, Jax and Oliver have created. They are magicians and the photographs will forever be magic.
She made it through 37 years of life with out a broken bone or stitch ever. Needless to say from now on the kids are allowed to play in trees; however Stephanie is not!
I asked Jax how mommy broke her arm… I’m not sure he quite gets it.
-Hole puncher
-She got a boo boo and then she had a friend that gave her a bandaid. You know, actually five bandaids and they fell off so her arm broke.
-She was at the park and hit it on a bench.
-She hit it on the lamp because she thought the light bulb was the light switch but it wasn’t. So she burnt the bone.
-I noticed that mommy said her arm was swollen and maybe that it turned black and blue and one time I saw a match but I didn’t touch it because I didn’t want to get a blister… what were we talking about?
It got really quiet back there… was expecting the worst, but found the best!
(PS this picture was from the summer. It’s sweater season now!)
We made the switch to the big boy bed for big boy Ollie this weekend. It’s always a blessing and a curse when you make that switch. It was more a blessing for Jax as he actually slept better with out the crib front on. Oliver not so much.
Cue the curse
The first attempt was a success… I got him changed and he laid himself down with a. Big smile and he was out like a light. But, that was it. That was the highlight of our transition. From here on out it became a cruel and unusual punishment for mom and dad. That early nap wasn’t a sign of things to come, it was a fluke… there was a flaw in the plan. We didn’t take into account that Oliver is just so much smarter than us. He lured us into a false sense of security and we fell for it.
Bottom line, he won’t stay in the damn bed. We put him in he slid out, walked down the hall and let himself in our room. Over and over and OVER again.
He did laundry:
He wandered aimlessly around saying he won’t go to “sweep” and that he is a dinosaur:
He even pulled up a quiet seat in the bathroom in hopes no one would notice him:
It was a game of wills and in the end a toddler will almost always win. But this kid better recognize he’s dealing with two pros, two seasoned veterans of the toddler nonsense. When you come at these two parents you better come hard because we don’t mess around…
Case in point: toddler gets out of his bed every fifteen seconds… no problem… Front of the old crib gets zip tied back on and then wedge a a large rocking chair to keep it from moving for the night.
Just like in Coach Herm Edward’s locker room, in this house, “You play to win the game!”
And in the end… the way end (like 10:25pm- three hours after we first put him to bed) he fell asleep in his old crib, zip ties and all, and we won… Sort of.
There aren’t many people in life you can count on. There are family and friends. Those are almost always constants and as parents of little ones especially, being able to have someone(s) to count on is priceless. Two working parents put pressure on everyone. Demands are high, works, family, personal time… there needs to be at least 45 hours in a day.
It’s crazy how time fast flies. There are no more naps or relaxing weekends. Don’t get me wrong I love every second of running to school events and baseball practice, every last second of it. It’s who I am now… a dad. It’s the best job in the world.
The thing you reading most when you come a parent is show important it is to have family and friends around to help. Being a working family, both Stephanie and I work what feels like 60+ hour weeks, makes it almost impossible to get in everything we want to be able to do. That’s where you lean on your support systems.
Since both Steph and I started new jobs we have been relying on family more than ever. Having amazing neighbors to rely on is more helpful than anyone realizes, but having someone who is there morning noon or night, when they are sick or tired… knowing that person treats your children probably even better than you do… that’s the ticket. That’s the support system you know you sometimes take for granted, but also appreciate more than you can put into words.
This past week has been so tough on two working parents, since Bammy has been in the hospital. I can’t even imagine how tough it’s been on Bammy. The thing I’ve come to realize is you can not take for granted the people you have in your life… because things change fast. People change fast, luckily Bammy is one of those people who no matter the circumstances you can always count on her!
Get well soon Bammy. We love you!
Twas the night before Kindergarten Jax was asleep, his lunch was set out.
Then there was mom and dad who’s faces wore pouts.
His outfit was hung by the closet with care. In hopes that the school bus would quickly be there;
Both boys were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of breakfast danced in their heads;
And mommy in ‘PJs, and I in my shorts,
Just settled down after finishing school reports,
When out in the yard there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
The moon shown a shadow on the still of the pool
I yawned and I shuttered in the late summer cool.
When what to our wondering eyes should appear,
But a memory of a child so small we shed tears.
We cried and we sobbed while we packed up his bag
We were exhausted and beat, time to wave the white flag.
We spoke not a word, but went straight to sleep,
We laid down with questions, but spoke not a peep.
Yes, we were sad that our boy was growing so fast,
But we knew it was time to move on from the past.
While mommy and daddy wished time would go slow,
We realized Jax was ready, it was time to let go.
So now as we lay, we wish him the best.
All we can hope is mom and dad get some real rest.
The last few years have been a wild ride. There’s been crying and laughing. There’s been tears and there’s been blood, there’s been puking and then there’s been more blood.
Of course we can’t forget the fact that there has been poop (both human and canine) in every square inch of our house. We’ve got one child who is Semi-appropriately using the bathroom. Yeah ok, so he may pee outside even when there is an indoor toilet within reach, but at least he understands a relatively appropriate way to relieve himself.
That brings us to this little dude. The lower sibling on the totem pole. He’s working hard to keep up with his brother. Don’t forget however, he’s only two years old. We’ve been intermittently trying potty training thing, but this kid is ready. He’s constantly yelling at us, “mom, dad… peeeeeeee- potty!!” We just haven’t gotten it all together.
That was until today…
No big deal… but this little dude, our littlest.. yea he just peed on the potty!
… Pooping however… is still a work in progress!!
When I was five, Georgie was my best friend. He got me through some really tough times. My father bought him for me the day I was born and now he’s happy to have a best friend again!
“Being there for a child is the most noble thing a toy can do.” -Woody
You’ve got a friend in me. You got troubles and I got ’em, too. There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for you. We stick together, we can see it through ’cause you’ve got a friend in me.
“Never be afraid to tread the path alone. Know which is your path and follow it wherever it may lead you; do not feel you have to follow in someone else’s footsteps.” #EileenCaddy #FatherAndSon #Oliver #Footprints
The relationship of a son and father can be both simple and complex. A son will always feel a close bond with his father, yet at times will want to show his dad how he has grown and the strength and knowledge he has gained, thus making the relationship more competitive.
I want Oliver to experience the world through his eyes… his unique perspective and joyful smile will bring happiness to everyone he meets. I want him to make mistakes and learn from them. I also want to protect him and keep him safe.
… but most of all… I want him to forge his own path, he doesn’t need to follow in my footsteps or try to “be like dad.” Oliver needs to be Oliver and if does just that… he’ll be fine!
Sorry Sons: Chronicles of a New Dad 