Assault and Batteries

One of the many great things about fatherhood is the ego-boost you can get from your admiring kids. For example, my girls believe that I can fix just about anything.

Now, if you know me you know that I’m not the handiest guy on the planet. I can hammer a nail, but it will take me a dozen strikes (and maybe another nail or two) to get it in. I can saw through a piece of wood, but it won’t be straight. I do technically know how to install a ‘molly bolt’, but woe be it to the drywall that I drive it into – and to the person standing under whatever the molly bolt was holding up when it pops out four or five months later.

But the girls don’t see this. What they see is a guy that makes toys speak again, builds entire dollhouses, and, wizard-like, knows the intricacies of the magical toy-healing potion known only as ‘super-glue’ (or, in Sylvia’s case, ‘slooper-goo’).

So, they often give my little ego a nice boost by occasionally saying things like, “Daddy can fix anything!” (Oh girls, if only that were true! We’ll both wish it so when you go through that first really traumatic break-up in high school…)

Thus, life with kidlets being what it is, my work desk often resembles something like an elf’s station in Santa’s Workshop. Currently my ‘fix-it’ workload is pretty light, as I see a maraca, two streetlights from a train set, a princess cell phone, and one Richard Scarry book in need of repair. Often, that pile can be three to four times larger, and it usually is. Plus, there is… ‘The Fix-It Basket’.

Current contents of The Fix-It Basket: two belly-dancer tops and a Garfield (neither of which I can do much for, as those are sewing items and are thus waiting for Grandma to come again), two more silent cell phones (hmm… why wouldn’t I just let them stay silent???), some electronic toy with a button that says ‘Giggle!’ on it (again, maybe silence is a virtue here), a headband missing a bow, a hook for a tennis-ball toy that I installed in the basement (and whose molly bolts keep popping out), a part of a cat toy, a beaded key ring, and some various parts to toys that I’d already fixed – but then realized later that I’d forgotten a part or two (see paragraph #2 above…).

But herein lies a challenge for the modern dad: the amazing diversity of batteries that are out there these days. When I was a kid, there were five basic types of modern household batteries. Life was simple: A-D, done. Then, as electronics became smaller, along came the Double-A, then the Triple-A. Still, it was all pretty simple though. No longer.

Today, I can spend weeks with ‘L1152’ or ‘CR4403’ on my To-Do list, constantly eyeing Target, Home Depot, the grocery, and virtually everywhere else we go trying to find the one obscure, tiny, disc-like battery that will fit into some tiny toy or book that's supposed to have stars twinkling on the last page. I’ve broken down a few times now (often after finding only the L1150 and not the L1152, in the sixth store I’ve looked in) and ordered batteries online, sometimes loading up on each type based on the assumption that I’ll need that size and style of battery for SOMETHING soon.

But, while the frustrations of battery hunting these days can sometimes pile up, it is always SO worth it when you finally find the right one, work through your selection of tiny screw drivers to open the tiny back cover of a certain toy, fumble through getting old batteries out and new batteries in, and then hand the now-happily chattering toy back to one of the girls.

They take it, look at it suspiciously for a second, then push a button. When they hear the toy start speaking to them again, their eyes light up and they immediately look at me with a look that says, “Holy crap dad, you really did fix it! This is amazing!” Then they run off through the house, showing off the newly repaired cell phone or talking doll to their sister, mom, and whoever else is around.

So, it’s pretty amazing to be able to ‘fix everything’, even if that ‘everything’ is just for now.

A Real Trucker

When we get in the car and hit the highway, Sylvia's latest joy is to call out whenever she sees a truck. She'll yell, "Truck! Look mama, a truck - big truck! There's a truck, there's a truck... truck! Another truck! Truck! Truck! Truck!"

There's only one little problem with her doing this...

At this point in her speech development, she can't quite make the 'TR' sound, so instead substitutes the 'F' sound.

So, you can only imagine what our car sounds like whenever we hit the road. (And we're thankful that, thus far, we haven't had any new friends or grandparents or business associates in the car with us when she does this.) And when she does this, Sylvia just sounds like... well, like a real trucker.

Kids Are NOT Dumbells! (But that doesn’t mean you can’t use them as such…)

It’s tough to maintain any level of fitness when you have kidlets at home. They (rightly) take (and deserve) all your time, energy, and focus so that your life pretty much becomes a cycle of sleep (when you can), work, kids, sleep, work, kids; repeat – day in, day out. There is little time left for most of your own pursuits, including working out.

So, you cut back. If you used to run 10 miles every day, maybe you now sprint three miles every other day. Used to pump iron four days a week for two hours at a time? Now it’s three times a week for 40 minutes at a time. Triathlon training, fencing, ice dancing, competitive yo-yo whatever your thing was, it generally changes quite drastically when you add kids to the equation.

But to supplement your now meager, ‘catch as catch can’ workouts, you get creative. After all, you’re around your kiddos so many hours a day – why not USE them for your fitness?

Thus I humbly present to you a comprehensive workout for moms and dads, ones that hit nearly every major muscle group (at least broadly) and will help a dad or mom from becoming that total pudge-ball slouch that they so readily fear.

[But first, a disclaimer: before starting any workout regime, consult your physician. And before starting this workout regime, also consult your partner, your parents, your pediatrician, and your psychologist – at minimum. Maybe post some stuff online too, just to cover all your bases. Also, while this is all in fun and it goes without saying; just don’t drop your kids. Ever. (So, it can be said that this workout also helps focus your concentration and also develops grip strength.) And if you don’t realize that this is actually all tongue-in-cheek, then don’t even try it – unless there’s a soft, comfy drop zone of mattresses, pillows, etc., in which case I even MORE highly recommend it.]

Chest – Lie down flat on a steady surface, grab a kid, hold them up above your chest with arms extended, lower to chest, and push back up. Works the pectoral muscles and has added benefit of evoking a torrent of giggles.

Shoulders – While standing, grab a kidlet with both hands wrapped around the chest. From a waist-level position extend the kid straight out with elbows locked. Focuses on the deltoids – and also provides a great opportunity for an improvised game of ‘peek-a-boo’ and/or ‘where’s baby’.

Triceps – This one takes a little more focus and care to get into proper position. From a standing position, you grab the kiddo by the hips, swing them up behind your head (they are upside down), then extend the arms so that the kiddo is raised up and down. Keep your shoulders locked and only utilize your elbows to workout your triceps. Generally also works out your kid’s laughter muscles too.

Legs – Grab a kid (or better yet, two – one in each arm) and walk up and down the hall, driveway, airport terminal, Target electronics aisle, or amusement park line in a lunging motion. This one is great for the quads (thighs) and glutes (butt) and even better for small funny bones. I do this one so much that it’s on the girls list of regular requests; “Daddy, do lunges! Do lunges daddy!”

Biceps – From a standing position, lay a kid across your extended arms, sort of cradling them with your hands (hands only). Now swing them up, bending only your elbows, in a classic curling motion. Results in buff biceps and peals of laughter, especially if you ‘zerbert’ at the top of the motion.

Back – Actually, I’ve got nothing here. I haven’t figured out something for the back that isn’t just too elaborate or ridiculous to even attempt with a child. But, whenever you’re at the playground and spy the jungle gym or a low-hanging swing crossbar, crank out a couple of pull-ups.

Some of the benefits of this workout:

• Family bonding time
• Increased focus and grip strength as you just don’t drop your kid, especially after reading some faux workout on some guy’s blog
• As far as an actual workout goes; Hey, something is better than nothing, right?
• And, the best part, the kids absolutely love it and have a ball… which is really is the point here

Workouts to NOT mimic with your kids:

• Medicine ball throws
• Step aerobics (kids just don’t make good step stools, and doing this will generally result in Child Protective Services kicking in your door)
• Spinning
• Zoomba
• Tybo
• Anything that would normally require some sort of Pilates machine

So, with this strenuous workout now in hand, go forth parents and get your workout on!

The Sylvia Glossary

The other day, in the car and as she happily brandished a new Halloween straw that she’d gotten at school, Sylvia very intently and very seriously said to me:

“Daddy, we go weh-want and I get dink, I no have get sfaw for my dink because I have sfaw for my dink because I got one at my fool, okay? They people at weh-want bing me dink I say no sfaw because I got one from my fool here in hand, okay dad?”

I about choked on restrained laughter as she went on and on and on, reiterating this point for about another full minute. I was nearly crying I was laughing so hard (or, more precisely, trying so hard to NOT laugh). Particularly without being able to see her body language or know the context, I had NO idea what she was talking about (luckily Sally translated).

As a second child, Sylvia’s speech just didn’t evolve quite as quickly as Lillian’s. Experts say that older kids, being only children for a while, get more direct attention and thus their speech develops more quickly – plus often the older child speaks for the younger one, so a second kiddo just takes a little longer to develop her speech. Thus, Sylv’s has still got some pretty key words that just don’t sound quite right, especially if you don’t know the context around them and more so if you can’t actually see her mouth moving or read her body language (like when she’s talking on the phone to you).

Thus, I felt it was time for a little Sylvia glossary. Here are some key words:

Fam-mah – Grandma (A favorite expression is, “My fam-mah coming to visit, MY fam-mah!?!?”)

Yillian – Lillian

Hoe-tay – Okay (No Buckwheat jokes please…)

Mlik – Milk

Sfaw – Straw

Weh-want – Restaurant (So she might say, “I want a sfaw for my mlilk at the weh-want.”)

See-rall – cereal

Nana – Banana (‘Natch)

Wok Out – Rock Out (Yes, we – or more likely Sally – taught her to say ‘rock out!’)

Fool – School

Sirt – Shirt

Slirt – Skirt (Often makes it challenging when she asks to wear “a sirt and slirt to fool”.)

Bobbi – Barbie

Dwoll – Doll

Fistmas – Christmas (“Dada, can I add Bobbi dwoll to my Fistmas list?”)

Famee – Family

Ma bootie – My bootie (As in, “Shakin’ ma bootie, shakin’ ma bootie!”)

Crack butt – crack butt (With her penchant for going pant less, this one comes up often, like, “Mama, you see my crack butt? My crack butt, my crack butt!”)

Feep – Sleep

Zamas – Pajamas

Nap – Snap (As in, “Dada, before we go feep, can you nap my Zamas?”)

Bing – Bring

Hee-haws – High heels (Yeah. Really. No kidding: ‘Hee-haws’. Okay, #1 – We have absolutely NO idea where she got this one – well maybe some idea, but this phrase is SO far removed from it's original source that it's just hard to wrap your brain around it. #2 – You can only imagine just HOW LONG it took us to figure this one out.)

Please do study these and commit them to memory. There will be a test the next time you see Sylv’s.

Then again, by then many of these words could have changed. Such is the development of a 3-and-a-half year old: You can almost see and hear it from day to day, and especially if you haven’t seen her for a week or more – then the change in her development is absolutely palpable.

And just think, someday I’ll get to write a new Sylvia glossary, although the next one will be filled with stuff like, “OMG, my dad is SUCH a total tweak!!! WAJ!!!” So, for now, I’ll be content with a little occasional exasperation caused only the occasional ‘sfaw’, ‘crack butt’, and ‘hee-haw’.

Sylvia's First Joke

About two years ago, when Sylvia was about two and a half and just starting to really chat, she told her first joke.

Sally and I were in our sunroom, chatting about something relatively serious, when Sylvia came in, looking for her small, plastic Dora doll. She said:

"Where my Dora? You see my Dora? Where my Dora?"

Then she quickly turned around, thrust out her butt and said, "Is it in... my butt!?!?!"

Sally and I laughed out loud.

Her timing and delivery were dead-on and I think she gets that from me. And, I also suspect she gets her taste in subject matter from me too...

An Open Apology

This is an open and very sincere apology to my friends who had kids before I did.

I have to apologize because I know that before I had kids, I did and said some pretty ignorant things to my friends that did have them. I only know this now because our friends without kids occasionally do it to Sally and me. At first this was a real source of frustration, until I realized that I surely did the same, if not worse. That, in turn, leads to this apology.

Dear Friends Who Had Kids Before Me:

I absolutely and sincerely apologize for doing the things to you (or, more likely, saying the things I did to you) before I had kids.

I know that I said things like, “Well, just come out [to the game, bar, club, whatever] anyway. Just get a sitter.” I was well intentioned of course, and just wanted you to be able to come out and enjoy whatever non-parental fun I was having. I didn’t know how hard it is to find a sitter that you trust, actually have them be available at that moment, and/or actually want to go out, when in reality you just wanted to grab what sleep you could before the kiddos woke you up at 6:30 AM (as they would be waking you up, regardless if you did actually join me at the club, and went to bed just a mere three hours prior) with a hearty, and energetic, “Mommy, can we have pancakes today!?!?” And, I know now, that there are few things worse than parenting through a hangover…

I probably said, “Just bring the kids. Just throw them in the car and come on!” on whatever road trip, visit, or excursion that I was suggesting. I had no idea. I didn’t know that ‘just bring the kids’ first meant a mental checklist of things like:

• Have they eaten/nursed, when did they eat, do they need snack now, and what additional snacks should we pack?
• When did they go potty last? Do we have diapers, wipes, and a change of clothes already to go, or do we need to pack it? How long will it take us to get them both/all to go potty before we leave?
• We must pack outfits, toys, books, toiletries, diapers/wipes, nighttime bear or favorite animal, sippy cups, iPod/iPhone/iPad movies or games, secret stash of candy for when things really go south (aka the ‘Bribery Bag’), pacifiers (aka ‘Fire, Ba-ba, Woo-dee, etc.), jackets, individual water bottles, shoes & socks, and on and on and on. Kids at home are tough, but kids on the road are about four times as tough.

I may have said, “Just come to the restaurant. We’ll help take care of them and they’ll probably just fall asleep there.” Actually, I wouldn’t have ever said this one. I was so unfamiliar with kids and so afraid of them that I never would have even offered to help take care of a baby, toddler, or preschooler. (At least then I was being honest.) I’ve now seen many a friend offer to do this, but then ‘take care’ of our kid for 3-4 minutes, get bored when they can’t understand them and then go back to eating, talking, and drinking.

My ‘favorite’ was when said friend who had offered to help would just completely stop ‘taking care’ of the kid and hand them right back to us once the food arrived. This situation then sticks the actual parents with kids at a restaurant (often chosen without regard to kid menu options), past their bedtime, getting cranky, and generally fussy and irritable for all. So, the dinner out ‘with friends’ (that you hardly get to talk to, since you're busy with the kids) is actually then much harder, more challenging, and just simply more difficult regardless of how many non-parental friends are there ‘to help’. (Plus, being out is also then keeping the kidlets up past their bedtime, especially as they never fall asleep when you want them too and certainly never according to any far-fetched hope to ‘have them fall asleep on your lap.' And this means that you, the parents, also get to deal with them being cranky, annoying, and generally a pain all the next day because they never got enough sleep.)

I’m sure I said (because I usually do), “C’mon, just one more beer. You don’t have to leave right now. Just one more, it’s just 20 more minutes.” I didn’t know that with little ones, ‘the schedule’ is a god never to be trifled with. The kids need enough sleep each night or else your next day is just a hellish, pain in the rump, ass-dragging kind of day of fighting, grumpiness, more ‘accidents’, and just a cascading hell of kids falling apart. I didn’t know this back then because I had never had to deal with those kinds of repercussions. (And of course, multiply that 'next day' pain times about 20 if you were hung-over.)

I would have never seen this need to apologize if I hadn’t had kids myself. Because I would have just toodled along, obliviously thinking my life was ‘busy’ and ‘stressful’ and ‘hard’ (which it was, in its way, but I dream, I absolutely covet having such days back now). But it took having kids to see and hear things from my friends to make me realize that I had make the exact same mistakes before my kids came along.

Some favorite examples of things we hear from kid-less friends that we just chuckle about now:

• “OMG, my life is just so CRAZY right now!” – You know, it is and we certainly get that, as ours was too. But unless you are CEO of a company or maybe an ER doctor, this one becomes kind of laughable when you say this to the parent of little ones. Our favorite was a friend who once went on ad nauseum about how ‘crazy’ her life was because she’d just gotten a dog. At the time, we had a toddler, a newborn, two dogs and a cat. We just let her talk and talk and talk about her ‘crazy’ life, then moved on to someone else at the party.

• “Well, just bring the kids and just fly out here!” – We’d love to, really, but please see the list, an abbreviated one mind you, of just what it takes to get a kid ready to travel in a car. Now add in things like getting kids through airport security, dealing with airport bathrooms and finding food kids will eat there, then fussy/tired/grumpy kids strapped into airplane seats (and getting more fussy/tired/grumpy because they don’t understand that – at times – they absolutely cannot get OUT of that airplane seat), then add hauling car seats in/out of cabs or a friends car… And again, that’s just a short list. (And note that while kids in cars are four times as hard as usual, kids in airplanes is about seven times harder than usual.) Oh, and let’s not forget that now “just bring the kids” means buying four plane tickets instead of one or two, and the fact that a friend’s non-kid house has not been kid-proofed one iota.

• “I won’t let being a parent change me. I will still [add in ‘rock climb’, ‘go to Red Sox games’, ‘play in my band’, ‘be active in my Civil War re-creation unit’, or other formerly fun activity here].” – Yeah... no you won’t. I’ve seen some couples do this (one couple rock climbing with friends in Colorado with a newborn in a little portable crib at the base of the climb sticks out), but these Uber Parents are few and far between (and generally only have one kid). What you really do is just attempt to try to squeeze in one or two of your favorite activities per year, if you are lucky, and then you should just be happy that you were able to keep your toe in whatever activity it was at all. Now, we have heard occasionally of one parent (never both) who adamantly continues to ski, hunt, go to sporting events, etc. at the same frequency and duration as before they had kids. While some might congratulate this parent on ‘having it all’, I’d describe a parent like that as an uncaring jackass who shouldn’t have had kids in the first place. The kid comes first, and you are third (after your spouse, who comes in second… actually, you may actually only come in fourth as now also taking care of your kids’ and spouse’s house also takes precedence), so deal. You’ll get to get back to competitive skeet shooting and the local biathlon club when they’re older (although how much older, I can't say as my kiddos aren't quite there yet).

• “I won’t ever let my kids do…” or “My kids will start [activity of choice] by the time they are [ridiculously young year]” – These ones are fun. Now, I first – and again – admit I was totally ignorant here too. My kids were going to be up on skis by age four, reading on their own by five, and also learning Spanish or French by now. All that you had to do, I ‘knew’ was to start early, be consistent, and ‘just do it’! Yeah, not so much. As Sally and I joke sometimes, ‘Are the kids fed? Clothed? Alive? Then they’re fine.’ It’s a joke but it also shows how much time and effort that just the basics of taking care of a kid take. There is rarely, if ever, much time for anything more than that. (We heard one comment just this past weekend BTW, where one of Sally’s younger relatives stated their kid would be playing piano by age four. Maybe so, and I certainly hope that’s true, but the odds are against it. And, bottom line, it's absolutely okay if it just doesn't happen.)

• “Start a daddy blog!” – Okay, so this one was actually much appreciated and, obviously worked. But all the sincere, well-intentioned, caring people that suggested this (people that I appreciate and thank mind you!) were all people without kids. I tried to explain the whole lack of time thing, but again: you just don’t know what it’s like until you’ve walked in these barf-covered shoes. But, they all did play on my need/desire to keep doing something to write and to them I’m very thankful for pushing me. And so I try to think up or jot down little stories or quips like this on airplane flights, in the shower, or at 5:12 AM as the girls slumber on. But, like all the trials and tribulations of fatherhood itself, I’m loving it... it’s a good pain.

Top Ten Techniques for Swingers

In no real order, here are ten creative techniques for swinging a kid at the playground:

10. Ironman - I push a girl with one hand, executing one big push, and end up in a stance like Ironman always is after he shoots a 'repulser ray' from his palm. "Take that, evil-doer!" I think this one started because I would, trying to entertain myself, mutter 'Ironman!' somewhat under my breath. Now the girls ask for it by name - although they may have no idea who Ironman actually is.

9. Don't Drop the Baby - I hold a girl my arms like a baby (as she is still in the swing), give them lots of baby-talk and goo-goo's, then say, "But don't drop the baby," and... drop the 'baby'. To the girls this macabre act is, for some reason, apparently an absolute riot. Nothing like dropping babies to make people laugh, I always say.

8. BIG Pull/Push - I grab the swing by the chains, right next to the girl, yank back and let 'er rip! Usually a nice swing starter, sort of like the opening salvo of fireworks which is actually rather lame, but seems cool because it's just first.

7. Underdog - The classic. I pull the kiddo back, run really fast and push 'em up and over as I run underneath. The girls squeal with delight - as I immediately worry that I've either just dumped a girl upside down into the dirt from nine feet up or launched her into a tree.

6. Big Smack - While the girls are swinging in a small child's swing (the kind with the bucket-like seat) I imitate a pro wrestler and crank up the fanfare. "You want some of this, HUH!?!?" As they swing close, I do a big pose, smack my hands a couple of times together and then, just at the apex of their swing, I smack the front of the swing so it makes a good, solid 'smack!' sound - and also gives them a push. Usually also followed by a big faux pro wrestling rant, like "OH YEAH! BIG DADDY MADNESS!"

5. Knee/Foot Push - Stand in front of the girls, and push their knees or outstretched feet. Used primarily to actually see them as we talk about coloring, snacks, best friends, best-best friends, best-best-best-best friends EVER, stinky boys, etc.

4. Roller-Coaster - A Sally Grimes invention with great drama. Hold the top of the swing, start to slowly walk forward while making sounds like a roller coaster as the car is being chain-driven to the top of the first hill, push the girl back until you are completely extended, arms locked out, and holding her up in the air as high as you can. Then get out of the way. Peals of delighted laughter ensue.

3. Booty Smack - The name says it all. Really. Like all things involving the butt, this one is always a good 'go to' source of laughs.

2. Metronome - This should only be attempted by an advanced daddy. It's when you've mastered the normally pedestrian 'regular push' but can actually do it with TWO kids, having them so perfectly off-sync from each other, that you can push one with the left hand, then the other with the right, then the first with the left, then back to the right. Seeing it in action is just a thing of beauty, really... it's just... moving to see that kind of mad daddy skill...

1. (This one probably is the girls' #1 favorite:) Kick Daddy! - Like with all things, fake injuries to dad are the most fun! They swing back and try to kick me as I execute all sorts of dramatic and over-the-top moves to avoid the 'deadly feet' that are trying to knock my block off!!! (And if that seems like too many exclamation points, it's because I was imagining the 1970's-style promotional copy on the box such a 'game' might come in.)

How to add drama:

One for the money - Before any swing, simply countdown to blast-off or do a 'One for the money, two for the show...' count. Easy and yet brings forth lots of absolute bug-eyed anticipation and giggling.

Broken Coaster - Just as you reach the full extension of your body during a 'Roller Coaster', with the girl stuck in the air, you tell her the coaster is broken. Luckily, my girls are pretty well versed in mechanical repairs, canting the magical, "Fix. Fix. Fix." to take care of the problem. They are, like, better than MacGyver at fixing stuff. Really.

Taunting - "You want WHAT? Ironman? You're not READY for Ironman! Why, you're just a little GIRL. And you think you can handle an... IRONMAN? Pfffft - WHAT-EVER!" Ah, the drama of it all... too much fun.