Tag Archives: Sons

Heaven is boring

On Friday morning, I got to get up and go to work. Doesn’t sound like much of a treat, does it?

It was a delight.

It wasn’t so pleasant because of what it was; it was pleasant for what it wasn’t.

It’s wasn’t getting three kids ready for school. Only Big Brother actually goes to school, but since society might frown on my leaving Buster and New Baby home alone, they all have to get ready to roll.

This is how my morning went, Monday through Thursday:

  • Drag Big Brother out of bed by his ankles while he complains about being too tired.
  • Two fresh diapers and one “Put on some pants or you’re going to school in your underwear.”
  • Distinguish big baby clothes from small toddler clothes.
  • Find pairs of nearly matching socks for three boys of different sizes from our box of random floating socks.
  • Make the boys breakfast while New Baby attempts to climb up my leg.
  • Yell, “Leave him alone and eat your breakfast!”
  • Yell, “Leave him alone and eat your breakfast!” another dozen times.
  • Be caught off guard because it’s Bring [Specific Object] to School Day and we don’t have [Specific Object].
  • Find as many hats and winter coats as children, or as close to it as possible.
winter socks

“I can’t find my boots.”

  • “Put your shoes on.”
  • “Well, where are they?”
  • “Then go get them and put them on!”
  • Back the car out of the garage so door will open wide enough for New Baby’s carrier.
  • Come back inside for New Baby. Leave muddy tracks in kitchen. Look at clock. Shrug. Make mental note to prepare for after-work slovenliness scolding.
Put the shoe on the other foot

Getting ready, one wrong foot at a time.

  • Field ridiculously detailed questions about German army helmets on drive to school. “I don’t know,” is not an acceptable answer.
  • Carry Big Brother’s school bag into school for him because his hands are cold.
  • Ask him where his gloves are.
  • Be informed that his gloves are at the bottom of the bag you are carrying for him.
  • Take three children into school; leave one there; take two back to car.
  • Drive to Mommy’s work. Drop children off. Debate confessing about muddy kitchen floor. Decide silence is golden.
  • Drive to work. Find last parking spot on roof of structure or move on to more distant ramp with long, cold walk.
  • Rush to catch up on work.
  • Stay late to compensate for late arrival.

On Friday, my morning went like this:

  • Wake up, get dressed, go to work.
  • Park in usual, convenient spot. Have a hot bowl of oatmeal at desk and ease into workload.

A little slice of Heaven, Friday morning.

It makes me appreciate my boring routine. I think I like boring.

It makes me appreciate my wife. This week was an aberration. She dances this Morning Tango with the boys most days. She does it better, and she doesn’t get the floor dirty. I might not notice if she did, but I know she doesn’t. It’s not her style. It’s gold to me that she takes such tumult in stride, so her husband can stay happily boring.

"Dont play ball in the house!"

It we’re not running too late, we like to fit in a “Don’t play ball in the house!” before school.

 

So you want to build a Mega Bloks helicopter with your kids: FAQ

Q. What are Mega Bloks Call of Duty sets?

A. Mega Bloks, if you are not steeped in the world of expensive plastic squares, are a competitor to LEGO. Call of Duty is the paramilitary wing of Mega Bloks.

Q. What’s the difference between Mega Bloks and LEGOs?

A. Mega Bloks are cheaper than LEGOs in proportion to how much harder their instructions are to follow.

Q. Is there anything else people should know about Mega Bloks?

A. Yes. Although the pieces are segregated into about a dozen different plastic bags, in order to complete Step 1 of construction, you will need exactly one piece from each of the dozen bags, necessitating that you dump all 324,943 pieces out into one omnibus pile.

Q. What is the best time to build a Mega Bloks Call of Duty helicopter?

A. When Daddy is home alone with a six-year-old, a two-year-old, and an eight-month old. Preferably late afternoon of a frigid day when you have been cooped up in the house for hours together already.

Q. Where is the best place to build your set?

A. The dining room table. No other surface will hold the 324,943 pieces.

Q. Isn’t it too close to dinner to spread that all out over the dining room table?

A. Work fast or eat on the floor.

chopper from hell

As with all of our greatest family accomplishments, this one was built on the placemat of US Presidents.

Q. Why can’t Big Brother (6) build this set by himself?

A. He could have, if Daddy had been smart enough to shell out the extra cash for LEGOs, with their at least partially-discernable instructions.

Q. What did Big Brother do to help?

A. Big Brother snapped together pieces at random so that whenever Daddy looked for a specific piece it was sure to be cleverly disguised within some abstract sculpture.

Q. What did Buster (2) do to help?

A. Buster loaded some crucial pieces into the back of his toy truck and quietly drove them to a different room.

Q. What did New Baby (<1) do to help?

A. New Baby crawled around the perimeter of the table, patrolling for any fallen pieces that might look good to eat. He also sneaked away at one point to the kitchen where he pulled a used bag of microwave popcorn from the garbage, spilling unpopped kernels all over the floor. These also looked good to eat, which provided Daddy with a nice break from his work as he sprinted from the dining room to the kitchen. You shouldn’t sit in one place for too long.

Q. Did the children do anything else helpful?

A. Lots. Big Brother and Buster got into a fight every 10 minutes over the helicopter pilots and their tiny guns and equipment so that Daddy could have something to break up the monotony of searching for missing pieces.

Q. Is Daddy supposed to yell so much when playing with the kids?

A. Everyone has a different method of family fun.

Q. Will this become a regular activity?

A. Only after Daddy has died and gone to Hell.

They don’t make it easy on Santa

Our six-year-old had to be prodded into starting his Christmas list. Having to write down words and ideas is so far below the dignity of a First Grade scholar. It’s much easier to watch toy commercials and say “I want that!” at the conclusion of each.

Once begun, he threw himself into the spirit of his list. He learned he could be more specific in his desires when they were the fruits of his own mind rather than the mass market spit balls of the Toy Industrial Complex.

xmass list_Page_1 xmass list_Page_2

Those who haven’t been following along may find it odd that four lines on the list call specifically for German items. The rest of us are relieved that it is only four items. This leaves several items that Santa could plausibly supply to a child in the United States.

I’ve contacted Santa. Following is his assessment of the likelihood of supplying each listed item:

A German Subway Set – Santa’s Response: “WTF?”

What makes a toy subway German? And what makes a train set into a subway? Are you planning to set this up in a crawl space under the floor? How would the kid even play with that?

A Police Car with Sirens that can light up – Santa’s Response: “At least this makes sense.”

But doesn’t this kid already have police cars, some with sirens that light up. And aren’t most of them neglected or broken?

A German Army Truck and Helicopter – Santa’s Response: “Kids in Germany don’t even ask for that.”

An army truck and/or helicopter I could probably do, but now I’ve got to have flags painted on them? The elves aren’t good with flags.

An iPad – Santa’s Response: “Yeah . . . No.”

$o many reasons; $o little time.

A German Army Suit with a Beret (Side note: I wondered why he asked how to spell beret) – Santa’s Response: “This request has been filed with German Subway Set.”

Such a shame. We have tons of children’s French Army uniforms with berets, but fresh out of German.

A Call of Duty KREO Set – Santa’s Response: “Well, KREO are cheaper than LEGOs.”

So if there is such a thing as a Call of Duty KREO set, well, maybe.

A Nintendo 3DS – Santa’s Response: “Is that a real thing?”

I lost track when the elves were still making the original DS? We’re up to 3 now? Can it be Japanese, or does that have to be German too?

An MSU Football Costume – Santa’s Response: “Great choice of team, but how about we start out with a sweatshirt or some pajamas?”

He’ll get a full uniform when he makes the team. Go Green!

A Star Wars LEGO Set – Santa’s Response: “Didn’t he just get a bunch of those for his birthday?”

Maybe if they have a good sale.

A Boom Co Blaster – Santa’s Response: “Isn’t this just a poorer quality Nerf gun?”

And aren’t there already tons of lost Nerf gun darts hiding behind all the furniture in your house?

A World War I German Army Helmet – Santa’s Response: “Cool. I’d like one of those, myself.”

But has he checked prices online? Are his parents willing to give up their first-born child in exchange? Does he realize who their first-born child is?

***

I’m not sure what happened to the last entry. He probably wants something he has no hope of spelling. Maybe I’ll just get him something that starts with B. Or maybe I’ll fill it in with A Big Lump of Coal – German Coal.

 

A father’s Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving is a day for Turkey and mashed potatoes, parades and football, family togetherness and the alcohol that an entire day confined with family requires. And if there’s any time left over from all of this, it’s the chance to steal a moment to be thankful for something.

The Canadians have their Thanksgiving in October. I don’t know if this is because they are more eager to be thankful or because they are hungrier for turkey. Probably both, since nothing builds a healthy appetite faster than digging down deep to cough up a little gratitude.

In order to make sure that I have a good appetite for Thanksgiving dinner, I’ve composed a list of things I, as a father of three young boys, am thankful for.

  • I am thankful that our house has lots of wallpaper nobody likes. This makes the crayon drawings on the walls much more aesthetically pleasing.
  • I am thankful that, for going on 10 years now, I have been too lazy and cheap to replace the ugly wallpaper. My plan to customize the existing paper is working out great.
  • I am thankful that babies can get away with mismatched socks as often as every day. New Baby is terrible at organizing his sock basket.
  • I am thankful that we live in an enlightened society where a man can cause a backup in the drive through, estimating the number of McNuggets needed inside his minivan, without being stripped of every shred of masculinity.
  • I am thankful for the following consonants: B, D, M, N, P, T and W. Without them, Buster’s conversation would be completely unintelligible.
  • I am thankful for all the vowels, because no one has to learn how to elevate the back of his tongue to pronounce them.
  • I am thankful for breasts for a multitude of reasons, but mostly because I don’t have to warm them in hot water for 10 minutes while a screaming, hungry baby wails for a little milk over here!
  • I am thankful for any device that helps me shave six seconds off the time it takes to warm a bottle.
  • I am thankful that I have so far been able to avoid any embarrassing outbursts of road rage in the car line at elementary school. It’s so important to set a good example.
  • I am thankful for generous children who are never too hungry to offer Daddy the crust.
  • I am thankful for every day we get through without Caillou.

But most of all I am thankful for:

A baby who is a good eater, a good sleeper, and a good smiler.

A toddler who is always helpful and quick with a joke.

A first grader who adores and protects his little brothers.

And the loving mother who brought them all into this world, and would gladly bring more, if old age, poverty, and slippage toward bedlam didn’t stand in the way.

Happy Thanksgiving!

thankful horse

That’s a pretty thankful horse, right there.