Monday, February 27, 2012

Do The...Potty Dance!

This past weekend we had a first.  Pizzly, Mama Bear, and I went to our first kind of sponsored party.  It was a "Potty Party" by Huggies I guess. 

Well, maybe sponsored is not the right word.  All I know is that it seems like Huggies sent some crap that was like crack to the kiddos!

More on that later...maybe
Anyway, this Potty Party was a blast!

Pizzly got to run around with his two best buddies, we got to eat Pizza, we had cupcakes, played with bubbles, and most importantly.  We learned the "Potty Dance."


Yeah, the video is kind of creepy to me too, and the rest of the crap on the DVD is worse, but this means nothing to the Pizzmeister.  He loves it and can't get enough of it.  Thanks Huggies and to our friends who hosted this potty party.

You've single handedly just ruined my life! 

No. Not really.  We really appreciate all the work you put into the party.  I am just glad I will never have to have one at my house...hopefully. 

But, there is one thing I am a little diappointed about.  You gave Pizzly his very own dvd with the potty dance on it.  Why would you do that to me? 

I thought we were friends!

I understand why you hid it in this nifty little gift bag with all sorts of other stuff.  Had you not, I might have accidentally on purpose left it at your house with the dance mat!

Dance mat? (Yes! There's even a dance mat!)   

Really! 

Who comes up with the idea to make a dance mat for something called the "Potty Dance?!"

It's crazyness!


Oh well, at least Pizzly is having a good time with it, and we all had a blast at the party.  It's great to see the little ones running like mad and having fun.

I just wish that this dreadful dvd would somehow get "lost" because I really don't know how much more of it I can take.
 
 
P.s.  A huge thank you again to our awesome friends who hosted the Potty Party.  We really did have a good time, but be warned.  Mama Bear and I are looking for an equally annoying DVD to give to your kid as pay back.

P.P.s. The potty dance is so enthralling to Pizzly that he just crapped my floor instead of the potty.  I guess he was hypnotized or something because it didn't look to me like he even tried to go to the potty.  He just pulled his big boy undies off sat down and crapped.  Right next the dog too, so now the poor dog is hiding in a corner worried that I am going to think he dumped on the rug and yell at him.  I need a nap.   

Friday, February 24, 2012

Parents do Gross Things!!! Or Maybe It's Just Me.

Recently,(well not so recently) I have come to the determination that I am gross! 

I am not sure if it is because I am a dad now or if I was always like this, but I can say this; having the boy around is definitely making it more noticable.

Now, I am not only, hairy, smelly, and farty, but I also have learned that I will eat just about anything with out even thinking about it.

All I need for provocation is the boy to hand it to me or for me to find whatever I am about to ingest somewhere.

This morning I have eaten two gross things already, and it's not even 7:30 yet!

1st, after Pizzly and I fed the dogs, he grabbed some kibble out of one our dog's mouth, which is a big no no and he got yelled at over it.  Luckily, our dogs are wicked cool with him.

Anyway, after I yelled at him about messing with the dogs, he walked over to me and put the soggy kibble in my mouth.  I of course was tired and not paying attention by then, so I ate it.  Then realized what it was I just ate and immediately rushed to the bathroom to brush my teeth. 

Yuck!

The 2nd gross thing I ate was a hairy prune I found inbetween the couch cushions.  I saw it, recognized it was hairy, but that didn't matter.  I still ate it because I like prunes.  At least I made an attempt to pull the hair off of it before hand, and I knew it was only a day or so old because we just had prunes yesterday and the day before.  So, it couldn't be that old. 

No big deal.  At least it got the soggy kibble taste out of my mouth.

Anyway, after eating the kibble and the prune I realized something.   I have been eating some wicked gross things for quite awhile.  It all started about 2 years ago when the boy was still eating breast milk.

I used to have to smell test it to see if it was still good, but I learned that sometimes breast milk doesn't always smell "off" when it in fact has gone sour.  So, if I was unsure.   I'd taste it. 

Let me tell you.  There is little in this world that is grosser than breast milk gone sour.

Now, before you e-mail me in disgust about feeding my son sour breast milk let me tell you this.  That stuff doesn't keep for all that long.  And, sometimes even when you freeze it immediately after it is pumped it is no good, and sometimes it wasn't good by the time Mama Bear brought it home after she pumped at work.  It happens. 

Anyway, I think it was the tasting of the breast milk that could be sour that started me out on this trend of eating just about anything. 

Since then, I have eaten granola bars that were prechewed by a toddler, prechewed cheese, and whatever else the boy decides he doesn't like and spits out of his mouth and shoves into mine. 

No, it isn't like I choose to eat this stuff.  The boy will more likely than not pick up whatever he spits out and try his darndest to put it in my mouth, and I have learned that resistance is futile, so I just accept whatever thing he is trying to feed me as long as it is edible.

I am not sure if all parents are gross like this or if it's just me, but I am hoping it's the former and not the latter.

Jeez...What if it's just me?  What does that say about my self-esteem? 

Wednesday, February 22, 2012

Taking the Lead, Mud Puddles, and What the Hell is Wrong With You?!

Today I noticed something about the boy that I really hadn't caught on to before.

He likes to be out in front, leading the way...I am not sure how I feel about that.

You see, since today was a crackin' nice day, Pizzly and I decided that we would go for a short little hike.  It started out like usual. You know...Pizzly would point to different trees and I would tell him what they were and we'd have to stop and look at anything that was remotely interesting or different.

For instance, we had to stop and look at the one leaf that refused to fall from a maple tree for five minutes.  But, this is totally cool with me because I really really enjoy being outside and in the woods and I really really want my kids to feel the same way.

Anyway, before long the little Pizzmeister would start to fall behind and get side tracked, so I would slow down for him.  He'd catch up.  Then he'd yell at me, and run out ahead.  

No big deal.  He's two.  He's always like that, but it was a little different today.  I wasn't allowed to walk next to him or get in front of him at all.  I'd get up beside him only to have him toss an arm out in front of me so he could push his way ahead.

I told him that it wasn't very nice to shove people, but all that did was encourage him to run further ahead to make sure he still lead our little excursion.

So...I let him lead, and pretty soon we were 2 miles deep into the woods, I know this because I have a handheld gps, which is the shiznit.

Well, this is where we came to a problem.  

Pizzly is only two.  Two miles is a hell of a distance for him to walk, so guess what.  He insisted on riding the two miles back to the truckster on me, his trusty pack mule!

Luckily, he is a light weight otherwise we'd still be out there.  As it is we are lucky to be back by now because every time the boy saw a mud puddle he insisted that I put him down so he could go run and jump in it.  

What a loon!

And, he must have some wicked eye sight because he was spotting these puddles like crazy!  There could be one drop of water on a single blade of grass, and he'd see it and want to jump on it!

He definitely takes after his mama!

Well, eventually we made it back to the truckster where we met an elderly lady and promptly got into an argument with her about the stupidest thing.

This is what started it:

Old crotchety lady:  "Oh it is so nice to see a father taking his little girl out into the woods and not dressing her like a little princess!  I just love to see little girls wearing sensible clothes!"

Me (giggling):  "Yeah, I like to see little girls wearing sensible clothes too, but this is my SON.  His name is ...(Pizzly.)

Old crothety lady:  "No it's not!  That's clearly your little girl!"

At this point I didn't know what to say.  I mean who the hell does she think she is?  

Yeah, I have had people argue with me about whether Pizzly is a little boy or not, but not like this, not for real.  This lady honest to god meant it!  

Then I said the only thing that came to my mind.

Me:  "Well, the last time I checked, which was about an hour ago when I changed his diaper in the lean-to up the trail there, he had a penis.  Now, unless it somehow fell off, he still has it and is therefore a boy."

Her reply was an emphatic, "Well, he'd make a better girl!"  Then she disappeared into the woods, thankfully.

Now, for the life of me I can't figure out why she would have thought that he was a little girl in the first place. Yes, he has curly red hair, but he was wearing a ratty old carhart jacket, his froggy crap kickers, his faded camo jeans, and a shirt that claimed that he was a hunk. None of this should lead one to believe that the wearer of these articles of clothing wishes to be recognized as a female.  And, why would you argue with a parent about their kid's gender anyway?

Jeez old lady!  What the hell is wrong with you?!

Just thinking about it gets my dander up!

Monday, February 20, 2012

Things We Might not Have Screwed up Too Badly

The other day I wrote a post about all the things that we screwed up during the first two years of Pizzly's life and will probably continue to screw up for number 2.  

That post was meant to be cheeky and fun as well as a response to a couple of nasty, judgmental e-mails I received from a few people who were very opinionated about breastfeeding and co-sleeping and what not.  

Oh, I can't forget about potty training.  

They were horrified about our potty training schedule too, and made me feel like a terrible, slave-driving, ass of a father for starting the Pizzmeister out on it so "early."

...on second thought.  No. The crazies didn't didn't make me feel bad in the least because...well...they're crazy!

Anyway, that post was in no way all inclusive, and, yes, I do know that I have made a snapload of more mistakes than that, so you can stop e-mailing me about it.  I won't likely respond to anymore e-mail assaults. 

But, anyway, I was thinking that since on that post I listed some of my mistakes as a parent.  I feel like it is only fair for me to post some of my successes as one too.  

It's just going to be hard to find any.

Nonetheless, I will try.  Here it goes...


Things we might not have screwed up too bad whether on purpose or not and will try to keep doing for 2 : 


1.) Didn't listen to crazy advice:

-Holy crap!!!

Before Pizzly was born and in my arms I never would have believed you if you told me how many nutty people are alive and just dying to give you crappy advice on parenting. 

And, it seems that the crazier the person the more opinionated they are!

Well, you know what they say about opinions right?

Apparently, they are like poopers!  We all have one, and chances are your own won't be the worst smelling so hold your breath while someone else is giving you theirs.

Luckily, Mama Bear and I have stuck to our guns and not listened to any of these crazy people about how we are doing everything wrong no matter how emphatic the e-mails seem.

Otherwise, I am not entirely sure if the little Pizzmeister would have survived it.

I mean we have had people tell us;

how co-sleeping was going to kill Pizzly,

we've been told that doctors are unnecessary,

we've been told to use whiskey as a cure all for everything from teething pain to sleep problems,  

I've heard lectures about how the vaccines we gave Pizzly are going to give him autism,

I've been harangued about how me being a stay at homer was sending the wrong moral message to the boy and that I had no business being the stay at home parent anyway because I could never be the parent to him my wife can be because I have one of these penis things,

We've been lectured on the whole cut vs. uncut debate and how circumcision was the only "normal" option, 

I've been told that I have to sanitize everything I own every five minutes otherwise the kid will get sick

I've heard how the flu vaccine is a conspiracy of some sort and all he needs to stay healthy is an orange

We've heard that breastmilk is some sort of magical antibiotic, vaccine, and multivitamin all in one.  Your baby needs nothing more than that apparently.

And, we've even been chastised because the boy started walking at 8 months old, like we could stop him.  Crazyness!!!

Well, despite all of this bad advice and these crazy admonitions, Mama Bear and I have thus far managed just fine doing what we feel as right.

The boy's alive, happy, healthy, and, seemingly, well adjusted.

What else could we ask for?

2.) Asked a pediatrician/PA/Nurse about medical advice rather than an online forum or people on face book:

-Sure, sometimes you might get lucky and get good advice from these venues, but you might also get some nut job telling you that mama's boob milk is magical and can somehow cure pink eye, thrush, the mange, whooping cough, or what ever other ailment your child is likely to suffer.

Yes, I am sure that breast milk is good for the kid, but let's face it.  It isn't the magical curative substance that so many people tout it as.

Remember.  If it sounds crazy, it probably is. 

And, Yes. I know people believe these ludicrous ideas because I have seen all of this posted on a face book page I used to follow until I found out how nutty it was.

Therefore, you can rely on your facebook friends for medical advice all you want, but this guy's going to go ahead and call the pediatrician's office.

3.) Learned to lighten up:

-When Pizzly was a newbie around here I remember being terrified of going anywhere with him. 

The grocery store was my objective, and the parking lot was my warzone.  I was terrified to go to battle.

Well, I out grew that crap!  Thankfully!

All I had to figure out was that kids are not all that fragile, and there really isn't all that much I can't do now that I could do before the little tyke was born.   It really is like having a little wingman to run errands with.

4.) Family Reading time:

-This is one of the things I am most proud of.

We have read to Pizzly for at least a half an hour every day of his life.  From "A Farewell to Arms" in the hospital to "The Secret Garden" now, we have managed to keep reading to him every day, and somehow the little puke picked up on the alphabet.

Now, he can recognize letters by sight and proudly shout them out.  I guess reading time has its merits


Well, that's it for this list.  I am sure that I have done more things right, just as I am sure I screwed up more than what I put in the other post, but this will suffice for now.

Friday, February 17, 2012

The Mistakes We Probably Will Make Again

This morning after Mama Bear left for work, Pizzly and I sat down and had a discussion about all the mistakes we made as a family since he came around.  Well, I did most of the talking.  Pizzly was busy watching helicopters on youtube.

Anyway, the whole point of this discussion was for me to determine what I think we did wrong as a family and what we did right, and how we as a family can fix the wrongs for when Two comes out.

I ended up making a list.

Mistakes We Probably Will Make Again

1.) Giving the kid a name that we like:

-To hell with what other people think.

I know.  It is hard to consider that giving a name to your child that you actually like rather than a "mainstream name"  like John, Paul, Robert, Michael, or any of those names that end in "er" or "en" or "in" could be a mistake, but, apparently, A lot of other people think that it is.

I have been told everything from "think of how other kids will react to it" to "think of the poor teachers!"

I'm sorry but the name we picked out for Pizzly isn't that bad.  And, if some little punks with names like L-A or Tierade, or Billy Bob or whatever are going to pick on him about it, then chances or he was going to get picked on anyway.

It is just how it goes.

And, as far as the teachers go.  If these poor under-educated people think that their opinions should actually matter to me then they are delusional.  Their job is to babysit "teach" all of our kids so we can go out and make the money we need to in order to pay school taxes so they have a job the next day that they can complain about relentlessly. 


2.) Hoarding baby toys and what not:

- Yeah.  I am not seeing us being any different than before.

we're probably still going to go out and buy all the flashy crap that we think we need all over again.  Our tiny house is going to get even more cluttered with kids toys, and there isn't anything I can do about it because I just don't think right.  I want my kids to have absolutely everything that they want if I can give it to them.

But, I also don't want them to grow up with this sense of entitlement  that so many of our youngsters have these days.

Hmm...is that because all the other parents give their kids exactly what they want too?

(I might have to come up with a plan here)


3.) Pretending to take other people's advice into consideration:

-When Pizzly first came out I felt like I was inundated with advice from everybody.  I mean crazies, old timers, childless couples who think their dogs or cats are like their children, other "hip" parents, medical professionals, you name it.  They all had their two cents that they wanted to toss in the pot.

Unfortunately, I, not wanting to come off as too rude or ungrateful, acted like I was actually listening to all these jerks, which was a big problem.

For some reason, the simple act of pretending to give a crap about what they say sent all these advice givers a signal telling them that they could just pester me with their unsolicited advice anytime they wanted because I clearly didn't know what the hell I was doing and clung to their words like gospel.

Now, I admit.  I really am clueless when it comes to parenting stuff, but from the looks of it.  You all are just as clueless too, so please keep your advice to yourself unless some one asks you for it.

And, if you feel like you have to give me advice that I don't ask for don't be offended when I only pretend to listen to you and never actually do anything that you say is a good idea.


4.) Maintaining my subscription to Parenting mags:


- I am beginning to really hate these parenting magazine things, but for some reason I just can't see myself cancelling our subscription.


I never get anything out of reading them because I am the wrong gender, so why do I even bother?


The only thing I can think of is that for some sick reason I actually like that they infuriate me so.


Sickening!


Maybe, I should think about visiting a shrink!


5.) Feeling like the worst Da ever:


-I can't help it, and I know I am wrong to feel like this, but I really do think I am a terrible parent most of the time.


I am constantly second guessing myself, saying things like, "Dude, you probably could have handled that better." or "Should I really have let Pizzly do that?"


And, then I start thinking about all the advice I tried so hard to ignore and start to freak out because what if all those jerks were right?!


I start thinking things like:


-Maybe, we shouldn't have decided to breastfeed.
  
-Maybe, we shouldn't have started feeding him solids and  instead exclusively fed him breast milk until he was one.

-Maybe, co-sleeping was a bad choice, and we'll end up smothering him even though he is two.


-Maybe, I shouldn't have tried to potty train him at such a young age.


-Maybe, I shouldn't let him roll around in the dirt and grass and have tons of fun.


-Maybe, I should have just let him cry it out.


-Maybe, I do let him nap too long everyday.


-Maybe, we should have bought baby food rather than make our own.


-Maybe, we should have just given him a standard, white bread name like Timmy, Mikey, Danny, or Bobby.


-Maybe...


You see, I am constantly second guessing myself, and rarely do I ever stop and consider the fact that my son is a living, happy, healthy, well-adjusted, two year old who gets all the love in the world.  I couldn't have been too bad so far...


...But, why does it seem like it to me still?


More importantly, if I ever do start thinking that I have done enough and stop second guessing myself does that mean that I really have become a terrible Da?


I better get that magazine and see if they have an answer.


Thursday, February 16, 2012

3.5 Words! Maybe a Few More For Good Measure

It's A BOY!!!


I know!  I don't believe it either!

Going to be a good looking little cuss ain't he!

Word!

Wednesday, February 15, 2012

Slave Driving Two Year Old!!!

So it is official.  Pizzly is now two years and one day old.  

I know!  Boy, has the time flown by!

Anyway, as part of our celebration yesterday, Pizzly and I decided to go to a craft store to get some construction paper and maybe some crayons.

No big deal right?  

We go in get the paper and some colored pencils because apparently crayons aren't crafty enough for an "arts and craft" store.  

All in all I figured it would cost me five minutes and maybe 5 dollars, but no.  We couldn't leave with just construction paper and colored pencils now could we?

Nope, of course not.

Why?

Because the sales lady decided that she had to show my little man absolutely everything that was in the store that might even come close to being cool.  Before I knew it I ended up with $50 worth of stickers, beads, colored plastic thread crap for the beads, construction paper, glue, a bird, an owl mask, colored pencils, colored cotton balls, and a travel mug that is clear so you can put your kids drawings or photos in it.

She even showed the boy how to braid the bead thread!

He thought it was great!

I...not so much.

But, it being his birthday and all, I figured I could go ahead and buy him a bunch of crafty crap, which ended up being a half days worth of working on making crazy stuff that only us parent types like.

We ended up making Mama Bear a valentines day card, which was my plan all along, but this one was snazzier with colored cotton balls and stickers adorning it as well as some super cool drawings that Pizzly drew up special for her.

But, on top of that we made a nifty drawing with heart stickers and construction stickers  for her new mug, and we ended up making her a key chain charm/purse charm or whatever the hell it is.

The mug and the card I was totally cool with, but the charm thing...I'll be honest.  

I hated doing it, and not because I thought it was too tween girly for me.

The reason I hated it so went beyond the obvious braiding colorful strands of plastic and threading on colorful beads not being my cup of tee type of thing.

I hated it because doing this type of thing is a serious pain in the ass!  And, it is even more so if you shake uncontrollably due to muscle tremors and your fingers don't work the way you think that they ought to.

Add on top of that a slave driving two year old who refuses to let me slack off, and can't quite braid himself but can sure point out all my mistakes easy enough, and hopefully, you understand why the key chain charm thing was such a pain in the rumpas for me.

Seriously, this kid was irritating the crap out of me!

If I messed up the braid he made me go back to fix it!!!

Who does that?

After the braiding was done he started handing me beads and was very particular about where they were placed.  Again, if one bead was not in its proper place, he'd yank it off, which for some reason he could do. Putting on beads was a problem, but yanking them off wasn't somehow.

I don't know.  Must be magic or something.

Anyway, after all the beads were put into place, I noticed something.

There were so many beads that you couldn't see the braided rope they were attached to.

In other words, I did all that braiding for nothing!

At least the boy liked it.  In fact, he liked it enough that we are doing another one today.....Yay!

Monday, February 13, 2012

Toys, Toys, and More Toys!

This is going to be a busy week!

Pizzly turns two tomorrow, and we'll hopefully find out the sex of our new baby on thursday! 

How exciting is that?!

But, first things first.  We have to decide how to celebrate Pizzly's birthday.  We want to celebrate it in style.

Here's what I am thinking.

A guy's day out while Mama is working.  Maybe go to the Zoo, the science center, out to lunch, maybe we'll even go and see a movie, depending on what is playing.

Then we'll come home and make a cake, and then we'll decide on what he wants for dinner.

Then the fun begins. 

Presents!!!

Mama Bear and I bought him a new RC Helicopter, some more of his favorite match box cars, and a lot of other things.

It seems that our original plan to not buy a lot of toys for him because he has so many already has went out the window.  That's ok.  I look at it as an investment.

The more toys Pizzly has the more toys Two will get to play with when he/she pops out. 

Friday, February 10, 2012

Da's Perfect Little Wingman!

Caution: This post is about gross bodily functions like doodoo and pukeyness!  But, not too gross really.  Only mildly gross...maybe...I guess it all depends on who you are as to how gross it is.



I learned something important last night.

Your toddler will want to be with you no matter what you are doing!  Pooping, peeing, puking, or going out for ice cream.  It doesn't matter.  They'll want to fly by your side like perfect little wingmen.

Yes, I did kind of know this before last night. 

I am not sure, but I think maybe the not being able to take a crap by myself in two years gave it away.  For real.  If I try to shut him out of the bathroom while I am in there he'll either bang on the door and scream at me, asking what I am doing, or he just open the damn door and come right in.

He doesn't care!

He just wants to be with his Da, and that's great! 

...To a certain degree.

Yes, I love spending all my time with him too, but there are times when I would like to take a crap without having a little guy in there with me trying to help wipe my bum when I am done.  Jeez!  I am no that old  yet!

Then, there are times, like last night, when I feel sicker than hell all of a sudden, so I decide to sit down on the frigid bathroom floor, making sure to stay as close as humanly possible to the toilet in case anything comes up when...you know who comes in after me?

Pizzly of course.

You can see it in his eyes.  He's thinking, "This is strange.  Da never sits in here.  He must be up to something.  I am going to sit in here too. Wouldn't want to miss anything!"

It took him a moment, but he realized awfully soon that I wasn't playing a game, and that I was sick.

Then the little sweetheart tried to comfort me.  He was rubbing my leg and telling me "It's ok." just like we do to him when he is sicky.

It was so sicky cute and sweet that I puked!

For real.

And the whole time I was doing it the boy was there obviously concerned, and a little frightened.  You see, I'm a loud puker!  I try so hard to keep it down that it has to fight it's way out, causing me to scream out my special puking battle cry.

But, despite this, the little man stolidly stayed right by my side until Mama Bear pulled him out of the warzone.

I guess she was afraid of splash back or something.

And, anyway, right then I realized something...that crazy little pisser would stick to my side no matter what, and I wouldn't have it any other way...even if that means never being able to shower alone or poop alone or sleep alone or do anything alone again, which is looking more likely every day

Wednesday, February 8, 2012

You Don't Look Like a "Big, Chubby Blueberry!"

Ever since Mama Bear has gotten preggers for the second time, she has been a little occupied and insecure about her looks.  And, nothing that I say to her will assuage away her thorough disgust in herself.  I guess she thinks she looks gross or whatever, but it just isn't true.  She's total eye candy!

But, she won't listen to me.


All I know is that despite what she says.  She doesn't look like a "big, chubby blueberry"  in her new maternity dress she ordered.  

Au contraire!  She looks damn hot in it, but what does my opinion matter?

I'm just dum old hubby!

Boy she can be exasperating!

Anyway, after this morning's fluttering about as to what she will wear to work and feel good in I decided the boy and I needed to go and blow off some steam.

So, we went to feed the ducks at our neighborhood water works.

That was a fun time.  

Then Pizzly decided that he was hungry and started to eat the stale old bread and strawberry ends that were supposed to go to the deer and ducks, so I decided that since he was so good we would meander out to McDonald's for a special treat.

We got there, and the only thing I can say is...AWKWARD!

It was like there was a convention of big people going on or something.  The place was packed, and I was the smallest adult there!  

Honestly, compared to everyone else I looked positively svelte.

Needless to say, I am not used to that as I am fairly large and in charge myself!  Well, more than fairly.  I just am large and in charge, which is my way of saying I'm a total fatty!

Anyway, as the boy and I wear waiting for our pancakes and coffee(he had apple juice not coffee) I noticed something else that was strange.  Not only did I look dwarfed next to the adults in line around me, but some of the kiddos were bigger than me too.  

I swear there was a kid there that must have weighed 500 pounds and he said he was only 13!

To be honest he didn't look quite that heavy, but only because he was like 7 feet tall.  And, the smart ass patted my head like I was a toddler when I asked him why no school today.

He was a home schooler and apparently a trip to McDonald's was a cultural awareness event!

Ok. Whatever I guess.

Well, after we pigged out at McDonald's we decided that we needed some exercise and mental stimulation because not only were the other patrons slightly bigger than average they were also slightly more daft than average too, so we headed out to the science center to get our brain and game on.

Then the most embarrassing thing of all happened!

Pizzly decided to show off his "sharing" skills!

No, that isn't so bad, but how he decided to show them off is.

Apparently, he decided to sprint as fast as his little legs could carry him to the cafeteria.  Soon enough he started milling around a table where a mother was doling out food to her little ones. 

She spied Pizzly and thought he was hungry, so before I knew it.  The boy had a tray full of food in his hands and his very own spot at this family's table

I tried repeatedly to tell this lady that Pizzly wasn't in fact hungry, as he just ate like a piggy, but she wasn't having any of it, so we sat down and the boy had his second lunch in a half hour time span.

Here I thought the large and in charge convention at McDonald's was awkward!  Now, I was stuck sitting at a table with complete strangers with Pizzly eating up all of their food!  

Well, he actually didn't eat any of it.  He was too busy "sharing" with the other kiddies, and by sharing I mean he was forcing food on them like an Italian grandmother.  

There no choices or opportunities to say no.  He just handed each kid a cookie and slice of apple and said "Mmmm...It's good!"

Then he got up and gave the lady who gave him the food back the half of sandwich she gave him and proceeded to give her the biggest, sloppiest toddler kiss in the history of mankind!

That's when I knew that the kids with her were in fact hers because she didn't even flinch!  

Only a mother could except such a kiss without being thoroughly grossed out!

It was like a train wreck!  I wanted to look away, but it was so horrible I couldn't tear my eyes away!

I'm just glad this nice lady was such a good sport, but she'd kind of have to be.  She had 5 kids with her and they all were under 4 years old.  If that doesn't beat the uptight out of you, then I don't know what will.

Anyway, soon enough, our time with our new friends was up, and Pizzly and I were headed home exhausted and with me wondering how funny it is that all this happened because Mama Bear was insecure this morning and thought she looked like a "Big, Chubby Blueberry!"

It's the butterfly effect I'm telling you.  If Mama Bear hadn't been so exasperating, then the boy and I wouldn't have gone to see the ducks, which means no McDonald's, which means no science center, which means no embarrassing meal time with some rad new friends!

Its funny how things work out!  I am going to have to thank Mama Bear for starting out such an interesting day.

Tuesday, February 7, 2012

My Tiny Evil Genius!

There are few things in life that I find more bizarre and more confusing than toddlers.  I mean, everything is either the biggest deal in the world or not important at all.  And, a toddler will always find a way to surprise you.

They're like tiny evil geniuses!

And, no matter how hard you try to trick them they will always call you on it!

This morning after my wife left for work I told Pizzly that I didn't know how to play his favorite movie about helicopters because, truthfully, I was sick of watching it.  I even suggested watching the big purple, jerky dinosaur just for a change in scenery and background noise!

It didn't work!

He just gave me this look like I was crazy and handed me the remote. 

Then I tried to tell him that the batteries were dead in the remote and I didn't know where there were anymore, so he ran and grabbed the phone and told me to call Mama Bear. 

She knows where everything in the house is, which is totally, disturbingly true.  It is like she has a running catalogue in her head.  If you ask her she will be able to tell you where things are that I didn't even know we had.

Well, anyway, in a last ditch effort to avoid watching "Super Choppers" for the 100th time I told Pizzly that I forgot Mama Bear's phone number.

By now he was thoroughly disgusted with me.

He grabbed the remote from my hands, turned it on, accusingly pointed at the light that says it's on, and tossed it back in my lap.

So far my plan was backfiring in a big way, but I had one more trick up my sleeve.  I told the boy that I forgot how to use the remote.

Now he was past disgusted and just pissed.  He grabbed the remote again, looked at it, found the play button, showed me the button, pushed the play button, and then tossed the remote across the room because he was apparently afraid that I would screw it up for him again.

Then he sat down and forgot that I existed at all.

All this left me with two questions:

If he could have done it by himself the whole time anyway, why didn't he?

And, what happened to the whole out of sight out of mind thing?

I guess that doesn't apply when it comes to something that they really want.  At least that's how it has always been with the Pizzmeister.




Monday, February 6, 2012

Doing it all Wrong! Daddy Style!!

I  promise to keep my comments on the superbowl and half time show brief. 

Yay Giants!

And Why Madonna? (A very expensive looking halftime with music only adolescent girls of the 80's could truly enjoy.  Not that I didn't think it was ok too. Just wasn't thrilled by it.)

Other than that, I have nothing to say about the game or half time show.
 

Now that that's out of the way let's begin.

This morning I was thinking about a blogger that I have been following from across the world in Australia.  He's another one of us daddy bloggers.

Anyway, I was thinking of this post particularly, "Time to put my blogging to the test," and one line above all others stuck out in my mind.

"There are no rules in blogging."

He's absolutely right!  There aren't any rules.  I mean really.  Any idiot can have his own blog, just look at me for instance.

But, whatsmore, is that there are no rules for life or parenting either, asides from laws that are designed to prevent child abuse and neglect.

But, despite those laws any idiot can have a kid.  I am sure we all know a few who probably shouldn't have reproduced but did anyway, and there's nothing that we can do about it.

It's frustrating as hell right?

I mean we just can't go and take someone's kid away because the parent is a jerk no matter how much we'd like to.

Just think if we could though.  Would you or I still have our kids?


Who would determine the "right" way to raise a child?

These so called "experts" we see in the parenting magazines?

What would make them the "right" choice?

If not them then who?
 
Luckily, these questions need no answers, and I am glad for that because I am sure that according to a lot of people out there I am screwing this being a dad thing all up.

Why?

Because:

We choose to co-sleep 

I encouraged/supported my wife when she chose to breastfeed instead of formula feed Pizzly

I supported my wife's decision to start weaning Pizzly when she felt the time was right

I told my wife to give him what he wants in the middle of the night, which was boob milk, so we could get some sleep more than once  

I don't keep a spotlessly clean house so he might get a germ on him at some point

I have never fed Pizzly baby food from a jar (or if I did it was bananas or prunes. those don't count)

I occasionally let the boy drink soda from my glass

I let Pizzly run around naked all day so he will use the potty when he needs to and so he doesn't get a diaper rash

I allow him to get filthy dirty when we go out to play.  Actually, I encourage this behaviour

I have occasionally let a swear word slip out while he was with me

I don't like the idea of disciplining him because I don't want him to be terrified of me

I hate reading kiddie books to him so instead I read stuff like "The Lord of the Rings" during the day

I read to him in French routinely (Yeah, how un-American is that!)

There are days when all we do is sit in front of the television and chill out

I won't let him watch anything Disney because I don't like the messages those movies send out to kids

If Pizzly was a girl I would make him wear what I consider sensible clothes until he moves out of the house.  None of this over sexualized crap that is so tight it might as well be a corset, no cheeky sweat pants that say juicey on the butt, and by all means no spandex or stretch pants because where I come from those things are underwear

I don't think being a stay at home parent is all that difficult

And, the only reason I don't bitch and moan to other people when Pizzly is being a holy terror is because there is a huge double standard where mothers can do that and still be thought of as "good" parents, but should a dad dare to complain about his kid doing the same things he's automatically an asshole and terrible father.  I don't want anyone thinking of me like that, so I suck it up as quietly as I can.  There are already too many people out there that assume a man can't raise a child.  I am not going to add to that mindset with my complaints.


So, there is my list of some things I do wrong as a parent.  It is by no means complete as I am sure there are lots of other things that I do, which many would consider wrong, but, luckily, this is all I can think of for now. 

Yet, it is still quite a list, and I am sure that should we live in a society where the proudly published "child experts" in all of the "parenting" magazines had the authority to govern how men and women raise their own children I would certainly be punished because of it.

Luckily, that is not the case.


Thanks Tork for giving me something to think on all weekend and this morning!