Tuesday, December 16, 2014

X-mas is different this Year

Holy smokes!  It's Christmas time again, which means I am humming Christmas songs non-stop and making extraordinary plans of things I can make Elfred, our elf on a shelf, do each night to surprise the brats every morning.

So far, I have run out of cool ideas, but I am sure I will come up with something other than plopping him on the tv or tangling him up in Christmas lights and hanging him from a windowsill.

I need to think of some extra cool things to do, but I also need to pace it out.  There is are still 9 more days until the big finale!

I can tell this year is going to be crazy already!

We are in a new house, and the boys are at an age where x-mas is super exciting, which is bitter and sweet simultaneously.

On the one hand their excitement is super contagious.  We find ourselves making ridiculous plans, that we promptly forget in favor of a new plan, everyday for trapping Santa.  They are also really getting into the idea of gift giving, which is super sweet.  

But, I had to give up something I have truly loved doing for them this year because they are getting older and wiser and more perceptive.

Boys' Christmas Party 2013
I had to give up being Santa for them at their annual x-mas party.

Yes, the time consuming process of coloring my hair and and changing my appearance and finding cover stories to tell them as to why I missed the first half of the party every year was painstaking,  but well worth it to make the brats feel extra special.  

Now, I get to attend the entire party, but no more photos like this will happen because those brats are getting too smart and will out me quicker than a blink!

It makes me sad that they are growing up so fast, but I am proud and glad that they are. 

Besides, it is just a matter of time until they stop believing, and then I can suit up and make them play along anyway.  

Merry X-mas!

Monday, November 24, 2014

Thankful to be on the Mend!

It's my favorite time of year again! The air has a bit of a bite to it, the hot chocolate is flowing abundantly, and Christmas Carols are going to be fashionable again soon, which is important because that means I won't look like a freak when I am out and about humming or not so softly singing them to myself.

Well, I will probably still look a mite freakish, but at least I can hide my insanity behind the season.  I have no excuse for the rest of the year.

As much as I love Christmas, I love Thanksgiving even more because it starts everything off.  It's like the opening ceremony to the holiday games for me, and this year it is going to be extra special because I have so much I am thankful for!

The new Just a Dizzy Dad palace is finally starting to feel like home, the Pizzmeister is thriving in his new pre-school, Two-zy is taking a slight interest in potty training, and, most of all, I am grateful for all my friends and family, but a special thanks for my wife, my mom, and Uncle Ra Ra, who've spent so many hours looking after the brats and me this past month while I was sick.

With their help I am finally starting to get back to normal and I can even keep up with the brats a little.

Here's the brief back story:

Roughly 4 weeks ago I noticed that I had a slight fever and some mild discomfort deep in my lower abdomen.  At first, I thought nothing of it, but, before too long, the pain intensified and the fever worsened.

It was an abscess.  I have no idea how it happened, but I know I hope to avoid ever having another.

That shiz hurt like crazy and seemed like it would never end!

Anyway, I ended up spending a few days and nights in the hospital between to stays a week or so apart.

It was worrisome!   

Mama Bear had already taken 2 weeks off of work because I was unable to care for myself, let alone keep track of two little ones, and I couldn't help but wonder what we were going to do if I didn't get better soon.

Luckily, between Mama Bear, my mother, and my non-blood related brother, Uncle Ra Ra, the boys were well taken care of, and I started mending, so a lot of my worries have been alleviated.

I am lucky.

I am lucky to have people in my life like them.

I cannot tell you how nice it feels to know I have that kind of support.  

I also can't tell you how great it feels to be able to play with my sons again, even if it is only light play.

You know, this whole ordeal got me to thinking about everything I take for granted that I shouldn't, especially people.

How shameful!

I used to think that I could easily survive without help, but I was a fool!

We all need support. We all need people in our lives, and it is time for me to show how extremely grateful I am for those I have in mine.

There will be extra hugs and smiles and laughter this holiday season.

Monday, October 6, 2014

The Mailbox

As you may or may not know, we moved up to Northern New York in August and have been busy racing to get things done before the dreaded winter.  I say dreaded winter because nearly everyone that we have spoken to has acted like it is the worst thing in the world.

I am not buying it. 

But, with that said, I have been sure to take a few precautions just in case, and, to be honest, because I like preparing for it.  It makes me feel like a homesteader.

I've spent a lot of time cutting, chopping, and stacking fire wood. 

We've also been out collecting little sticks for kindling, building a carport for all the lawn equipment, clearing a little more land to be ready for a garden in the spring, and this has all taken up a considerable amount of time.  Time I have enjoyed spending tremendously despite the many blisters I have accumulated.

But, in all my fun, I have forgotten something...the boys' mail box.

A month or so ago Mama Bear set up a large box as a play house that she put in the play room.  The boys love it, and, naturally, no house is complete without a mail box, so she folded some cardboard into a triangle and voila instant mailbox!

To make the experience more fun for the brats, I would sneak little letters in there for them.  Nothing extensive.  Just quick notes telling them I love them and that I am thinking about them.  They usually had a picture, and, occasionally, I might fold the little notes into a paper airplane, which is a hit.

Well, I am not sure when or how, but I stopped doing that, and I feel like a real bastard for it.

I got too caught up with playing outside and accumulating fuel to keep us warm and getting things ready so I can relax and live easy this winter, that I forgot that there are things that are just as important that need to be maintained, even if they seem insignificant to me.

The mail box, which just seemed like something cute and fun and ultimately unimportant to me was something entirely different to my sons. 

The sad part, is I didn't now.  I should have, but I didn't because I am a terrible father.

If I was a good dad, I would have noticed that they checked that mail box multiple times a day, hoping for a note or anything from me.  But, I am not a good dad, and it took Mama Bear pointing out that they still check that mail box to me for me to notice.

I am just glad they hadn't given up on me, and I hope there is still time to make it up to them.

Wednesday, September 24, 2014

Chickens Suck!

Alright!  Things seem to be slowing down this time for real.  I swear I have started maybe 20 posts the last few weeks, but I have never actually gotten around to finishing them.

I know.  I am a slacker!

But, really, I have about a million projects going on around here from building a super secret x-mas rc for the Pizzmeister to getting everything together in preparation for winter, which is just around the corner.

Now, I also have a flock of chickens to tend to.

Let me tell you.  Despite what all the hipsters and yuppies claim, there is nothing even remotely romantic about owning a flock of chickens!  

The very idea that you go out every morning and everything is sunshine and roses and doesn't smell like a never before cleaned toilet is just unrealistic.  

Livestock takes a lot of work, and chickens are no exception.  

They are dirty, smelly animals that have virtually no interest in self-preservation, which means the majority of your day is spent making sure they don't kill themselves by being stupid.

Sure, they are nice to look at...maybe...and, you can go out and drop some serious cash on a cute little coop and run for them, but the moment you are the custodian for an actual live chicken the cuteness of the coop and the pleasant looks of the bird no longer matter because everything, including the bird is covered in chicken feces!  

Let me tell you, chicken crap is like tar when it comes to removal, meaning it is damn near impossible!

It doesn't matter how often you clean the coop.  The moment you turn around one of the bastards poops exactly where you just cleaned and is proudly standing in it like an idiot.  

So, instead of buying an ultra cute coop,  we opted to build a rickety outhouse since it was just going to be crapped in anyway.  And, since I am a softy and worried that they may get cold this fall and winter, I added a green house to make sure they were plenty warm.

Also to keep in mind, the idea that you don't crap where you eat apparently doesn't apply to chickens because they seem to really enjoy taking huge dumps in their feeder and water, and, of course, it is inhumane to make them eat their own poop, so the water and feed has to be changed often every day.

This task is especially gross, and to lessen some of the grossness I traded the traditional waterer to a plain jane 5 gallon bucket!  So, much easier to clean.  

Another problem with chicken ownership that many fail to take into consideration is what do you do when your hens are actually roosters?

Well, in a perfect world you have plenty of space for more roosters and your hens make up for the fact that you have too many roosters by laying more than an egg a day and the roosters never fight and never crow like morons all day everyday, but this is far from a perfect world.

You have to do something with them.  

Thus far, since I am not allowed to dispatch the bastards and have them for dinner, our plan is to off load a rooster or two at some point to some other sucker and replace them with hens, or, which is more likely, I will end up building a bigger coop and get more hens, hoping with more space and a bigger flock every body will play nicely.   

At least I get to eat the eggs!

Here are a few more photos for you to peruse.

Thursday, September 4, 2014

When did my Baby Boy get so Damn BIG!!!

Well, a lot of new things have happened this past month, which has kept me quite busy.  

And, since my mind has been occupied all that time I have had no time to dwell on the fact that the Pizzmeister is a great big boy now and is starting Pre-Kindergarten.

I just put him on the bus...I'm hot mess!

And, when I say hot mess, I mean it.  I am straight up ugly crying, and every time Two-zy asks, "Where is brother?" I break out into a fresh set of the ugly sobs.

For any of you that know me, it is no surprise that I am taking this so hard and reacting this way.

It is no secret that I don't handle emotions well.  There is no middle ground and never was.  I am either non-feeling or feeling so much I can't handle it and end up curling up into a giant, quivering ball of salty, hot tears.

And nothing makes me have a serious case of the feels more than my boys.  I tell them often that I love them so much that occasionally it overflows and comes out in tears at times.

Then, the Pizzmeister usually tells me of all the times he's seen me cry, which is a lot, starting when Two-zy was born, then when the Pizzmeister was so sick with salmonella, and a time or two when I was watching home videos of them.   

Yes, I am shameful, and I know it, and I have been working on this for years because I want to be a kick ass dad and husband. 

Unfortunately, I have a lot of work to do still!

Luckily, I was able to keep it together just long enough today to see the boy onto the bus, and, maybe, the very nice bus driver didn't notice me having a mini panic attack as I watched her drive off with a huge piece of my heart in tow.  

Well, she probably did even if I was wearing dark sunglasses in a lame effort to hide my tears, but all that matters is that I didn't quell my big boy's enthusiasm with my fears and heart ache.  
He was as jubilant and excited as ever, and I couldn't be more proud of the little pizzer!  

Now, I just have to wait 4 and a half hours to see him get off the bus and into my arms.

I hope this gets easier...

Here are some photos of this morning as we waited for the bus to arrive.