Wednesday, November 30, 2011

Can I Toss this in Your Trash?

Well, I hope that everyone had a fantastic Thanksgiving, and if you didn't...better luck next year!

Here it was pretty uneventful.  We went over to Grammy and Grampy's house and played for a little while, and that is about it. 

Other than that, we had a play date with our friends on Saturday and went for a little hike, which was a great time because we got to watch our little one and his buddy jump in mud puddles!

I can't say if there is anything cuter than that, watching a not quite 2 year old and a 2.5 year old running and splashing in mud puddles, but if there is such a thing I don't know about it.  The only problem was that we had to strip Pizzly down and change his clothes before setting him in the truckster to get him home.  That was tricky I tell you what.

Anyway, we had so much fun on the hike that we decided to have our friends over for dinner and to watch the "Polar Express."  

Inevitably, one of the little ones decided to crap his pants half way through the movie, and, after, a minute or so we decided that it was definitely not Pizzly.  But, that didn't matter because I was so used to changing diapers that I was going to get up and change Pizzly's litttle friend when I had this "A-Ha!" moment.

"What the hell am I doing?" I thought to myself. "This isn't my brat.  Let his parents deal with the stink filthy diaper!"

So, happily,  I let the boy's mama take care of it and didn't even bother to get up because that's how I roll!

Then 2 strange things happened.

1st: my wife for some reason was called over to inspect this little boy's bum (she's not a doctor/Nurse/PA or in the medical field at all, so why ask her?)   Apparently Pizzly's little friend has had a case of diaper rash for a few days that refuses to go away.  If it was me, I'd much rather ask a pediatrician or someone who is actually in the medical field rather than a random friend who may or may not know what the hell he/she is talking about, but that's just me.

At least she didn't pose the question on an internet forum where a 100 other moms can tell her a 100 different answers all of which are crazy and include things like "Have you vaccinated him?", which has nothing to do with the problem, and "Breast milk will clear it right up."


I firmly believe that breast milk is magical, but before I use it to clear up pink eye, diaper rash, pneumonia, the clap, or what-have-you you can bet that I have talked to a real person in the medical field before I try it.  And, even then I might still question the answer I get.

In my experience.  If it sounds bat crap crazy it probably is.

The 2nd weird thing I noticed (well heard actually) was this.  

After our friend changed her son's diaper she asked for a plastic bag out of her purse to put it in rather than toss it in our diaper pail.

At first I was a little offended and was about to say "What our diaper pail isn't good enough to house your son's crappy diaper?"

But then I realized that she was trying to be polite and didn't want to ask us if she could toss the filthy diaper away in our pail. 

My response was an uproar of laughter.

I'm sorry but that is hilarious to me.  It isn't like we are stockpiling Pizzly's dirty diapers as little mementos or anything.  They go out with the trash on Tuesdays.  

"Why would we care if you put your son's dirty diaper in our diaper can?"  I asked.

Her response was a meek, "I don't know.  Some people just obviously don't want you to toss your stinky diapers into their trash cans."

That made me laugh even harder because, after all, isn't that what trash cans are for?  You're supposed to toss your smelly stuff that you don't want in there.  And, the sooner she tossed her boy's crap filled, foul smelling diaper in ours the better.

Then again, maybe she wasn't being odd.  Maybe it was me because I would never have thought to ask if I could toss a crap filled diaper in someone else's diaper pail.  I wouldn't even know how to go about asking for permission for something like that.  It just isn't a discussion that comes up a lot for me because I'm a shut-in.

But, next time I go to someone's house I'll make sure to feed Pizzly a crap load of prunes just so I have an opportunity to try.

Wednesday, November 23, 2011

Still Not Quite Ready For the Restaurant Scene

Today Pizzly and I decided to go and surprise Mama Bear at work, which was kind of fun, but made me realize that perhaps the Pizzer is not quite ready for a "sit-down" restaurant quite yet.  Maybe in a year or two but not now.

You see, we showed up around lunch time with the hopes of accompanying Mama bear to lunch somewhere as a pleasant surprise.  We ended up going to a Thai restaurant and the food was delicious!  The only problem was that Pizzers is only 21 months old.


Neither is waiting...for anything.

So, when we sat down at our table we did our usual restaurant routine.   We gave him his little match box car to play with on the table and a gummy worm to gnaw on while we waited for the food.

That worked for a few seconds, but, eventually, he grew bored with the car and the gummy worm and wanted to run around like a maniac.  Of course, that wasn't going to fly, so he had to settle with sitting on Mama Bear's lap as I was officially chopped liver the minute he realized that we were  visiting Mama Bear and at her office.

That's ok!  I am kind of used to being rejected, not that it doesn't still hurt every now and then.  But, the real problem was that poor Mama Bear had no chance of eating her lunch since Pizzer wasn't about to let her alone for five consecutive minutes. 

So, I ate in a hurry to try and help with the boy who went all floppsy all of a sudden.  You know what I am talking about.  When the toddler isn't getting his/her way and he/she starts flailing and then goes all limp.  Well, Pizzly wasn't quite that bad he just kind of flopped and draped himself over Mama Bear effectively ruining any chance of her finishing her lunch because she needed both hands on the squirmy little monster.

Anyway, while watching this I couldn't help but giggle to myself a little, and then I started wondering how much longer will I have to wait until we can go out as a family and have a meal somewhere that isn't a Chinese buffet.  I am guessing a few more years yet at least.

Oh well.  At least I really like Chinese food. I guess there is also Chuck-E-Cheese's too, but that brings up a whole new set of problems.

Happy Thanksgiving Everybody!

Monday, November 21, 2011

Back in the Saddle

Last Christmas Grammy and Grampy bought Pizzly his very own little rocking and singing pony, which made me jealous because I wasn't allowed to ride it.  All Da was supposed to do was build it and then scram.

Anyway, Pizzly absolutely loved his little singing horse for all of a week or two, and then seemed to have forgotten all about it.  So, we moved the giant rocking pony into his bedroom, which he doesn't use, and he really must have forgotten it existed because he stopped seeing it on a daily basis..

Well, this morning we found it and fell in love all over again!

Pizzly must have ridden that durn singing rocking horse for an hour straight.  I just couldn't get him to get off of it.

I knew he was tired and asked him if he wanted to get off and take a nap and then come back and play on his pony later, but all I got was this look like "Oh, Hi Da!  I forgot you were there!"  

Then the little bugger started riding like a maniac again!

I decided to go ahead and let him play as long as he wanted to, and after a few more minutes he managed to fall asleep in the saddle.  That was wicked Cute I'll tell you what, but I couldn't get any photos since I was afraid he was going to fall off and get hurt.

Oh well, maybe next time.

Anyway, while I was tenderly picking him up so as to not wake him, I remembered something that I was told once.  

It was sound advice that I hadn't asked for and promptly dismissed and shouldn't have.  In fact, I don't even remember who told me this, but they were right whoever it was.  

What they said was, "You should really set some of these toys away and rotate them in and out every once in a while.  That way they always feel new to the boy."

At the time I remember thinking, "Whatever!  I spent some mad cash on all of this and he is going to have them out in the open for everyone to see and 'enjoy'!" like anyone but a toddler really enjoys those shrieking, obnoxious torture devices that some call toddler toys.

I should have listened to whoever told me that nugget of wisdom because Pizzly really does seem to enjoy the toys he doesn't see all the time more now than when he always had access to them.

So, now I am seriously thinking that it is time to get a rotation schedule into place.  Toys are meant to be played with and enjoyed, and if rotating them in and out allows them to get more play time and to be used longer then I'd be crazy not to.   

Thank you, whoever it was that gave me this idea.  I'm sorry I never took you serious until now.  If I could remember your name I'd send you a high five!

Wednesday, November 16, 2011

Done, Done, and Done!

Yeah, that's right!  The home remodeling session is officially over, and I can't tell  you how happy we here at Just a Dizzy Dad headquarters are.

Even Pizzly is getting into the celebration!  

In fact, at this moment the little guy is staring into the window of our front loading washing machine and screaming and laughing his little buns off.  

Yeah, I think it's weird too, but as long as it makes him happy who am I to judge?

At least he isn't "helping" fold the laundry for the moment.  That is a huge bonus.  His idea of folding laundry is to take the clean clothes out of the basket that I already folded and throwing all of them on the floor.  

Apparently, that's hilarious!

I fail to see the humor, especially after the first hour of refolding everything.

Anyway, here are a few pics of what our new utility room looks like.

This used to be our back door
Our brand spankin' new washer and dryer Hard at

The door to what I dub the Tool Cozy

Our new back door 

That's it for now!

Maybe when it stops raining I will get around to taking some photos of the outside.

Monday, November 14, 2011

Oops! There Goes My Man Card!

Yes.  There it goes floating away in the brisk autumn breezes.  Good bye Man card!  I may or may not miss you, but I am a little confused on how you ended up with my less than two year old son.

Is it the black eye?

Yeah...Pizzly looks all tough and stuff with his black eye, which he got from a dangerous encounter with our couch...I guess, but does that really make him manly?  

He's only a toddler for christ's sake!  Does he really need to be manly?

No. Of Course not!  I find the very idea ludicrous!

"Wait, how did Pizzly Black his eye?" you ask. 

He was running like his little buns were on fire and decided to dive face first into the arm rest of our couch.  Then, he decided that that was fun and did it again one more time before I could stop him.  The maniac didn't even care that he hurt himself, but boy was he angry that I stopped the fun!

Ok?  So what does that have to do with my man card being revoked and given to him?  

Well, I am not sure exactly how it happened, but the consensus at the local hardware store is that Pizzly is more manly, and I am decidedly less so!  

That's okay because, to be frank, I am pretty proud and surprised that I have been able to keep up this manly facade as long as I did anyhow.  After all, anyone that knows me will tell you that despite my rugged good looks I am not much of a manly man and never have been nor will be.

I'm a weepy, show tune loving, "Glee" watching, love to sing and would love to be able to dance, kind of guy.  I guess that makes me unmanly or shameless or something!

Pizzly is a black eye having, truck loving, maniacal sort of guy who is fearless and has no self-preservation reflex because up until now, we have never let him hurt himself beyond a bruised knee or something, sort of guy.  I guess by general consensus, this makes him all manly and stuff! 

But, even so, I don't know exactly when my "Man" card was officially taken from me and redistributed to Pizzly.  I am going to assume it was a recent thing for the time being because I hadn't noticed that my "Man" card had been missing and could be found on the Pizmeister until this morning.  

That's what I am telling myself anyway although I have noticed other guys and women giving me weird looks as I did my best to sing and skip through the aisles of my local hardware store.

Okay...So, I never really skipped through the aisles of any store...recently, but I have been known to sing and whistle to myself and my boy while shopping; never thinking that it was perhaps the "unmanliest" thing I could be doing.

And then this morning a clerk at the Hardware store had to open his big "manly" mouth up and make me question my "manliness" and whether or not I was playing my role as a dad the best I could because I was doing something that came naturally to me!

I was singing.

Not only was I singing, but I was singing "Somewhere over the Rainbow," not the Judy Garland version, but the Israel Kamakawiwo'ole version because I think it totally rocks, when this "manly" sales clerk comes up to me and says, "Wow!  I never would've guessed that I'd ever see a man singing 'Somewhere Over the Rainbow' to his son in a hardware store of all places.  It kind of makes you wonder."

I didn't ask him what it made him wonder about because I was afraid that the outraged man part of me that was screaming "Stomp this sneering, freckled frat boy's ass out!" would win out over the more sensible Dad part of me that was calmly saying, "Just walk away and pretend this never happened."

Honestly, I was torn for a moment, but then my good sense won out, so I walked away choosing to ignore the punk.  

Then at the check out the cashier looked at Pizzly and his shiner and said, "Oh look at you looking so manly with your black eye!"  Then she proceeded to ooh and ah over him while asking me how it happened saying how brave and courageous he was all the while.  

That's when I realized that my "Man" card was revoked and given to the boy in my stead, which makes me kind of sad.

It makes me sad because I hate how a person's proclivity for violence translates into manliness, and I hate that having a dangerous "air" about a person makes them seem manlier, and, above all, I hate that there are people who are willing to see such "manliness" in a toddler because he has a black eye from face planting into an armrest of a couch and didn't cry about it.

What does that say about our society?

I don't know, but  I'd rather be a Dad than a "man" any day!

Tuesday, November 8, 2011

The Terrible Two's Came Earlier than Expected!

It has been pretty hectic around here lately.  We've been building, we've had the fire department show up, and the boy insists on being a little monster!

First things first, the building is moving right along albeit slowly.

As for the fire dept. showing up, some one decided that my house was on fire while I was taking a shower, so I came out of the shower to a house surrounded by fire fighters and police officers.  Not to cool.  I was super embarrassed!  Then I felt awful because they got sent to my house for no reason whatsoever other than some idiot thought that my house was on fire because there was smoke coming out of my chimney.   Gee imagine that!  Smoke coming out of a chimney!

What a novel Idea!

And lastly, it has been wicked hectic around here because Pizzly is a little hell raiser and has me pulling out my hair on an hourly basis!

Just this morning the little bugger decided to whip his underoos off and peed on my dog, which, of course, scared the dog, which made it hilarious to my son.  So, when the dog ran away, the child chased after it while urinating all through out the house.  Let me tell you that was a trick to clean up!  There was even toddler pee on my television which is about 4 and a half feet up on an entertainment stand.  The boy is only 30 inches tall.  

Yes, it was one hell of a stream!

Following that little episode, Pizzly has decided that it is great fun to try and harm himself too.  He has been jumping into things and diving all over the place because, apparently, he thinks it is hilarious to scare me to death.

Anyway, he has been a little daredevil and ne'er-do-well for weeks now, but lately he's been just absolutely bat crap bananas, which results in him injuring himself, which he conveniently forgets seconds afterward.  Today, he face planted into the arm of the couch and gave himself a black eye.  

Seconds after he did that, he decided run around in circles and shake his curls at me until he fell over backwards and smacked his head on his train table, which didn't even phase him. Then he proceeded to tear all the cushions off of the couch and use them to break his fall as he dove off of the couch.

  1. I tell you this kid is going to make me bald or at the very least prematurely grey!

Wednesday, November 2, 2011

Parenting is Hazardous!

Yeah, I know what you are thinking.

I'm thinking it too!

Why the hell is there a tampon shoved up my nose?

Well, the answer to that is simple. Parenting is hazardous!

Last night while playing with my son I got a nose bleed as a result of a vicious toddler attack, and it lasted for a few minutes, maybe 20-30.  The bleed lasted that long not the attack.  The attack was a brief head butt or knee slam.  It took only a second or so.

Anyway, in a last ditch effort to stop the bleeding before going to get it cauterized, my darling wife tossed this tampon at me and told me to shove it up there.  

Well, it did the trick, but let me tell these tampon things aren't at all comfortable to have shoved up your nose.

First of all, they are misleading!  They look all benign and soft, but, in reality, they are like little bullet shaped rocks.  Then, as if that isn't bad enough some joker designed them so they would expand!

My nasal cavity is still stretched out from it and it has been hours since I used the thing.  And, getting it out was a trick too, I'll tell you what.

Holy Crap!

I wrongly thought that if I just firmly tugged on the little string that they come with, you know kind of like tugging on the pull string of a lawn mower, that it would come right out.  


All that did was leave me with a string-less tampon in my nose that seemingly was digging deeper and deeper towards my brain every second.  I was getting nervous and thought that I would eventually have to get the long nose pliers out to extract the unmerciful, white bullet from my nose before my nose exploded, but, luckily, it didn't come to that.  I just had to use my fingers instead.  

Who would have guessed?

Anyway, the tampon did the trick even if it did expand to three times its original size and was uncomfortable as all hell.


You know, I never would have guessed that being a dad would eventually mean having a tampon shoved up my nose. 

This parenting thing really is hazardous!