Tales From The Dad Side

Oh Right... Customs Officer

talesfromthedadside@gmail.com (SciFi Dad) — Tue, 14 Jul 2009 10:15:00 +0000

Offend In Every Way - The White Stripes
Originally published August 2007.

When we returned from Buffalo last weekend, we crossed over the border and met with a customs officer who had, shall we say, an issue with her attitude. She was one of the CO who probably dreamed of a more exciting life - like driving a cab - but was so horribly under qualified that she ended up sitting in a toll booth collecting no tolls and using the implied threat of a body cavity search to make others feel inferior. This is the story of our encounter.

Now, before I begin I should tell you some facts. I was born and raised in a border town. As a teenager I would head over to the U.S. the same way I would go downtown in my own city. It was not a huge deal. I have circumvented the duty laws in more ways than I can count - even going so far as to install a car stereo in a parking lot to avoid paying duty. When I was in university, I did a co-op work term in a different border town, and used to come home via U.S. interstates because it was faster (not to mention I got to hit duty free twice a weekend - something useful for a then-smoker like myself). To say I am familiar with the process is an understatement.

MTM, on the other hand, was having an anxiety attack in the back seat as we rolled over the bridge. All she kept saying was, "I hope she doesn't talk to me," over and over.

Anyhow. On with the story.

Me (handing her our three birth certificates): Good afternoon.

Customs Officer: Is there anyone in the vehicle with you sir?

Me: (Nope. I handed you three birth certificates in the hopes that you'd assume at least one of them was me - even though two were women, one bearing my last name.) Yes. My wife and daughter are in the back.

CO: Can you open the window or the door so I can see them?

(MTM opens the sliding door to our minivan.)

CO: I'll need to see some photo ID.

Me (palpably feeling MTM's panic through the fabric of my seat): All of us? (Because, in case you're not so good at math - wait, you're a customs officer, so that goes without saying - my daughter is two and a half; she isn't old enough to drive or have a photo on her health card.)

CO: Just the driver will be fine.

Me (handing her my license): Here you go. (Why did you refer to me in the third person - as "the driver" - when grammatically you should have used the second person singular? Oh right... customs officer.)

CO: How long were you in the U.S.?

Me: Two days. (That's right baby. No $50 per person, per day limit for us.)

CO: Value of all goods purchased?

Me: Around $600 (at this, my VISA audibly whimpered)

CO: Any alcohol or tobacco?

Me: Yes.

CO: Value?

Me: $50

CO: And that was...?

Me: One bottle, one case of beer.

CO: What else did you buy?

Me: Clothes, toys, and food. (We'll leave out the low grade weaponry, drugs smuggled in the heads of the Curious George dolls, and copious amounts of Cherry Coke.)

CO: When exactly did you arrive in the U.S.?

Me: Friday morning, around 9am. (See? We knew you weren't any good with math.)

CO (handing me back all the ID): Thank you.

And as I pulled away I noticed a small box taped to the outside of her booth with a sign hand printed in black marker that read, "Please help pay for my surgery. I need to remove the pole from my ass."

What about you? Any good customs stories (airport, road borders, whatever: they're all the same) to share?

How Much She Understands

talesfromthedadside@gmail.com (SciFi Dad) — Mon, 13 Jul 2009 10:15:00 +0000

It's summer, which means that sometimes you tune into your favourite tv show only to find an episode that you've already seen. I am on vacation from work this week, and I've decided that instead of not blogging during periods when I am on vacation, I would republish some older posts, with a few edits/revisions. Since I am on vacation, I will be an infrequent (possibly completely absent) visitor to your blogs over the next week.

Listen - Toad The Wet Sprocket
Originally published July 2006.

Sometimes children can truly amaze you. Today, my dear wife was taking a shower while Munchkin was down for a nap. Midway through the shower she awoke screaming. I let her be for a few minutes to see if she would settle herself, and when she did not I put on my brace and ~~walked~~ hobbled over to her room.

I went in and smelled that she had gone poo. I explained to her that I could not carry her from her crib to her change table, and that when I took her out of the crib she needed to walk over to the change table and wait for me. When I put her down she walked over to the change table and faced me with arms outstretched. I lifted her up and explained that she needed to be still while I changed her. She lay motionless for the entire change, none of her usual squirming. When I removed her diaper I asked her not to put her hands in it; she replied by folding her hands on her chest.

When the change was done, I explained to her that I could not carry her back to our room, and that she needed to walk there by herself safely. I put her down, and she walked - past the open office door (where there are many fun things to play with) and the open staircase - to our doorway. She stopped there and waited until I got close to her, and then she proceeded into the room, climbed up on our bed and waited for me to get into it before cuddling next to me.

This was probably the best behaviour she has demonstrated during a change in weeks (at least from what I can tell; this was my first change since I broke my ankle - I usually hear more struggling from Mommy). I just found it so incredible how she understood and followed my directions.

Epilogue
Munchkin was 15 months old, and I was recovering from a broken ankle when I wrote this post (probably one of my first ten). She had a fair sized vocabulary of signs, but her verbal list was limited to Mama, Dada, animal sounds and maybe five other words. It still amazes me how much she understood and how well she listened.

What things have your kids done that really surprised you (either in a good or not-so-good way)?

Neglectimommy Volume 5

talesfromthedadside@gmail.com (SciFi Dad) — Fri, 10 Jul 2009 10:15:00 +0000

Some Days Are Better Than Others - U2
Welcome to Volume 5 of Neglectimommy. You can read about the origins of this serial (and view the first comic) in the first volume.

Neglectimommy Archive
Volume 1
Volume 2
Volume 3
Volume 4

I think after this comic, Neglectimommy won't be published as frequently. I'm starting to struggle with ideas and I don't want the concept to be come too repetitive or stale. (Note to self: add newly adopted little brother "Oliver". That should work out well.) As always, I welcome feedback (even if it's accusing me of something completely untrue); if you don't like them, I'll stop publishing them (although I'll probably keep making them because my wife loves them so much).

Without further ado, I give you Neglectimommy Volume 5: Getting Help:

click to enlarge (and make text legible)

The Munchkin Interview

talesfromthedadside@gmail.com (SciFi Dad) — Thu, 09 Jul 2009 10:15:00 +0000

Thank You - Tori Amos
Do you want to know how much Munchkin appreciated all of your questions? She asked me if I had all of your addresses because she wants to invite all of you to a princess tea party. She made Disney Princess invitations for the "girls" and plain yellow ones for the "boys". She then set up all the cups and saucers and little plates she had. Thanks again everyone.

Leanne
Toots wants to know if she'd like to come to ChoccyWockydoodah on Saturday with her and Josh which poses more problems than the obvious booking of flights at such short notice because we're not even going to choccywocky at the weekend and I've no idea where she even got the idea we were!!!
I do want to go to ChockyWocky

Ask her does she even like the cake or does she just put up with it to get the frosting, I've tried asking mine and can't get a straight answer. I think she doesn't want to hurt my feelings:)
I love cake!

MTM
What is her favourite thing to do in the summertime?
Go swimming!

mamatulip
What does she think about having a little brother?
[Gestured two thumbs up] I love having a little brother. I love him. He's the best baby ever.

Russ
Mr. B wants to know: How do you deal with your little brother playing with your toys?
I just wait for him to let go, and I just ask Buddy, "When you're finished, can I please have a turn?"

Single Parent Dad
If girls are made of all things nice, sugar and spice, what do you think boys are made from?
Uhm, boys are made of work.
(MTM asked for a clarification, "What do you mean?"
"Boys work to make money."
"Oh, what are boy kids made of?"
"Boy stuff like Star Wars.")

smiles4u
Who is your favorite Disney Princess?
Ariel.

What do you want to be when you get big?
A dentist where my cousins live so they can come to me.

What is your most favorite game?
Chutes and Ladders.

Who is your best friend?
[a friend whose parents were with us in prenatal class]

How many times can you hop on one foot?
57 (with one session of holding on to the kitchen table for three or four jumps)

What is your favorite song?
Part of Your World (from The Little Mermaid).

Mandy
What's your favourite book?
My favourite book is... this is a hard one... The Little Mermaid.

Who makes your favourite breakfast and what is it?
Daddy's Special Eggs (scrambled eggs with shredded cheese and small pieces of summer sausage), and you make it, but not every morning because you go to work.

If you and Buddy could go on a trip to any place, where would you go?
The Disney Princess Castle.

Gwen
What character on TV do you dislike the most? Why?
Swiper, because he swipes everything.

Which character on TV do you like the most? Why?
The Doodlebops because they're the funnest show ever because they do concerts and I went.

If you could live in a book, which book would you pick? Why?
The Little Mermaid, because I love Ariel. But I don't like Ursula, so that's where we have to put a line.

Dee
What's the best thing at the zoo?
The splash pad.

Which flavor of ice cream is the best?
Vanilla.

When is your favorite time of the day?
The afternoon.

How does superman fly?
He has magic.

Where is the best place to play?
The park.

Why does it snow?
Because that's the season!

What's your biggest responsibility as a big sister?
To keep a close eye on my brother.

Who asked the hardest question?
Nobody.

ZenMom
Hi Munchkin,
Great picture! :)
I'd like to know: What your favorite book and why?
The Little Mermaid, because she's a mermaid and I love imaginary people.

I have a question to ask her: why did you like my picture so much?

Adelas
Please describe what Daddy does during the day. (ditto for Mommy).
Daddy: Work, work, work.
Mommy: Help Buddy do stuff and pick him up when he's crying.

What is your job? (meaning what is Munchkin's job - open to interpretation whether she thinks of "what I'm supposed to do" aka chores, or of a "reason for existing"!)
My job is to make sure my brother is safe when Mommy's gone, like when she goes to the basement or when she goes poo or pee in the bathroom.

What is the job (raisin d'etre) of an elephant? A bug? A banana?
Elephant: to feed itself! Bug: to climb up things and to be smart. Banana: nothing.

Do you have a lovey? Tell us about it!
Pinkie: she's a dog and she's pink and my [grandmother - MIL] made her for me.

What do you think school is like?
Learn stuff and learn how to paint and learn how to draw and learn how to print your name.

Shelle-BlokThoughts
What is the coolest thing about your Dad? You Mom? Your Brother?
Daddy: you have the metal Boba Fett that I gave you for your birthday.
Mommy: she can teach me how to cook as I grow up.
Buddy: he can jump and say "Mama" and "Dada".

James (SeattleDad)
I would love her perspective, so "What is the meaning of life, Munchkin?"
Uh, I don't know.

And also what is your favorite kids book?
My favourite book is The Little Mermaid.

daniel
When your little brother gets old enough to go to preschool, what advice will you give him?
Tell him to listen to the rules, and that's it.

Kristin and Co.
If you could be any animal in the world, what animal would you be?
A zebra!

Michell
Dear Muchkin,

You are an amazing young artist and you write your letters so well. What do you like to draw and color more, people or animals? P.S. Keep up the good work.
People, because I can't even draw animals.

Heather
What would you do if you were Queen of the World?
I would go to the park every day, and go to the khlav khalash stand every day and get khlav khalash and that's it.

RHW
Hi Munchkin:

Did you know that there's a new Disney princess movie coming out before Christmas! It's called the Princess and the Frog. I'd love to know what you think of the trailer.

http://www.apple.com/trailers/disney/princessandthefrog
Yes, I knew about it. I loved the preview. I don't know if I will go see the movie. Is there any thunder? (Daddy doesn't know.)

Have you seen a movie at the theatre before on the big screen? If you have, did you like it?
No I never went to the big theatre.

Dan Heinrich
Which would you prefer, another little brother or sister or a puppy? Why?
[Big smile] I would choose a baby sister. (Aside: her original answer was "pet", but when we explained she could only choose a puppy, she changed it to sister.)

Aunt Becky
Hi Munchkin,

What is your favorite treat?

Love,
Aunt Becky
Goldfish, or Oreos.

Good Idea, Bad Implementation

talesfromthedadside@gmail.com (SciFi Dad) — Wed, 08 Jul 2009 10:15:00 +0000

Before we get to today's post, I'd like to thank everyone who asked questions yesterday. You guys made my daughter feel so important; it was awesome. I'll close comments on that post later today (probably before I leave work, so anyone who wants to ask questions has until around 3.00pm EDT today) so that I can get her to answer all of them before bed tonight, and will likely post the answers tomorrow.

My Favourite Game - The Cardigans
As I mentioned Monday, we drove down to visit my parents this past weekend. Since we sometimes have difficulty keeping Munchkin occupied (without reosrting to four or more hours of Disney Princess movies), MTM decided to try an idea she saw on another woman's blog.

Now, before I continue, I want to state for the record that I love my wife, and I appreciate the efforts she goes to for our children. She is an awesome mother, and our kids are lucky to have her. (Yeah, it's that kind of post. Sit back and enjoy.)

The idea was "travel bingo", which, for those not in the know is bingo, except instead of the squares being chosen by randomly drawing balls or whatever, they have items one would see on a road trip (such as business signs like McDonald's, road signs like a specific speed limit, or types of vehicles like moving truck or convertible). For Munchkin, she put the word and an image to promote literacy but acknowledging that she cannot read the longer words yet. This was a fine idea except (and you knew there was an "except" coming):

She introduced the game after we had remarked - repeatedly - on our last trip that we were so lucky to have Munchkin in the back seat with Buddy to entertain him. Of course the smartest thing to do is give her something to distract her from him.
She waited to give the game to her until the final hour of our trip, after Buddy was d.o.n.e. and was freaking out and screaming, which is the ideal time to give Munchkin more reasons to ignore her baby brother.
Munchkin is four, so her reading skills aren't exactly what one would call "well honed", so she relies on images to guide her (naturally). Unfortunately, that means she would only accept a red convertible, a UHaul moving truck of a specific style, or a police car with black body and white doors. Also, she's four, so her response time meant that she usually missed the item in question if it was passed going 100km/h (also known as the speed limit on the highway we take for 99% of our trip).
The game quickly became all-consuming, with Munchkin pestering us to find her the items on the card. At one point, we diverted from our usual route just to drive by a police station (which, incidentally had tons of cop cars parked out back so that Munchkin couldn't see them and therefore refused to accept the fact that we'd passed a police car).

The final straw came when MTM said, "Oooh! That police station has a fire station next door. I'll put a fire truck on her next card!"

"Her next card?!?"

What things have you done as parents with good intentions that just didn't play out the way you expected?

There's yet another review for those interested. This time it's some of the PC 1000 Tastes of Canada products.

The Opportunity To Ask

talesfromthedadside@gmail.com (SciFi Dad) — Tue, 07 Jul 2009 10:15:00 +0000

Question! - System Of A Down

(click to enlarge)

Dear Internets,

Please ask me questions.

Love,
Munchkin
xoxo

(The pictures are of a rainbow (lower right), a baby spider (lower left), a spider and web (lower middle) and a mango (upper right), FYI.)

To be clear, this is an opportunity to interview my blog-famous daughter, Munchkin. I originally suggested this idea to another blogger, but she never ran with it, so I'm taking it for myself. A few clarifications:

She is four years old. Please keep that in mind when asking her questions.
She is actually aware of what I am doing here, so she's expecting questions. Don't let her down people. Ask a lot of questions, please.
Any question that would identify her or any one in our family will be ignored.

Otherwise, any question is fair game. Obviously, I will publish her answers in another post.

Thanks in advance for playing along.

Struggling

talesfromthedadside@gmail.com (SciFi Dad) — Mon, 06 Jul 2009 10:15:00 +0000

Drive - R.E.M.
We went to visit my parents again this weekend to celebrate my nephew's birthday (which was actually June 20^th, but this was the first weekend we could all get together around that date). It was fun, and went better than our last visit, although admittedly that one wasn't hard to top.

Munchkin enjoyed seeing her cousins and even got to sleep over at their place again Saturday night. (She also received two ear-piercing scream inducing gifts from my parents because my mother insists on purchasing gifts for all grandchildren at every birthday despite our protestations that it makes the birthday kid feel less important: one was an R2D2 action figure, and the other was a Disney Princess musical jewelry box with Sleeping Beauty spinning inside when you open it. Say what you want about her upbringing, but at least it's not slanted one way or another.)

Buddy was more friendly with everyone, especially my father who said to him on several occasions this weekend, "Grandpa go miss you when you go." (My father has a thick Italian accent and doesn't speak with perfect grammar, but the message is never lost.) Buddy also happily showed off his newest skill - blowing kisses - to everyone's delight.

* * *
My father turns 75 in September (right after Munchkin's first week of school) and in August he celebrates 50 years in Canada. Obviously, both these events need to be celebrated. Early October has birthdays for Buddy, my sister and my niece, as well as Canadian Thanksgiving. Since my sisters and I have such tight schedules, we booked the dates we will celebrate as a group this weekend. The problem is that there's a pretty big gap between now and when we're celebrating my dad's dates, which begs the question of whether or not we (MTM, me, and the kids) make another trip in between.

My kids love visiting my parents: not just because they can watch Playhouse Disney (Dear Rogers: why the fuck won't you make Playhouse Disney available on your cable system?!?) or they get to stay up late or have treats. They love my parents and love seeing them and doing stuff with them. At the same time, their activities there are limited. Neither of my parents are in very good health, so they cannot do much with the kids besides hold them while watching tv and telling them stories. In fact, my father said to Buddy this weekend that he wished Buddy was born sooner, because now he (my father) is too old to play with him the way he wants.

On the one hand, I feel like I want my kids have at least some memories of their grandparents. I know logically that at this age Buddy will remember nothing and Munchkin may or may not recall fragments, but somehow I feel like I need to lay a foundation or something. So many kids never get to see their grandparents (like me - I never met my father's parents because his dad died when he was a kid and his mother never left Italy and we couldn't afford to fly to her) that I feel like I should make every effort to get them together.

At the same time, I feel guilty for forcing my family into a car for nine hours or more to spend the weekend not "doing" much of anything except talking and watching tv. It puts a strain on MTM (she has to pack for the kids because she knows what their daily needs are better than I do, she has to deal with makeshift sleeping arrangements and diaper changing locations and what not, etc.); it is difficult for me to deal with all the baggage from my childhood as it comes up over and over; it can be difficult for the kids to be pulled from the familiar and thrust into the unknown. It's not easy to make the journey, and often it's stressful due to a lack of appreciation and/or consideration from my parents.

* * *
As much as I want to say it has nothing to do with it, part of my inner conflict is the fact that my inlaws are so close. My MIL sees the kids at least once or twice a week because she watches Munchkin while Buddy and MTM go to a class. We get together with them for holidays if we're not going to visit my parents. My kids know them a lot more than they know my parents, and that bothers me. It bothers me because I want them to know my side of the family, but also because of the difficult relationship I have with my inlaws.

(Aside: I know that it can never be "equal" as long as we're so far from one set. I'm not striving for equal, or even "fair", just not completely lopsided and fucked up.)

So now I'm faced with the question: do I drag my wife and kids along the highway for an additional trip that we really don't need to compensate for some emotional need that I can't properly articulate, or do I leave that weekend alone and make use of it as a "free" weekend to catch a baseball or ~~pretend football~~ CFL game or a zoo trip? Do I put my stuff aside and just enjoy a weekend as a foursome, or do I try and encourage a better bond with their grandparents?

Thoughts? Opinions? I'd love to hear either (or both), please.

For all the hip-hop enthusiasts in my readership who are also parents, check out my review of Mee Wee: kid-friendly hip-hop.

Keyword Madness XII

talesfromthedadside@gmail.com (SciFi Dad) — Fri, 03 Jul 2009 10:15:00 +0000

I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For - U2
Way back when I had only been blogging for a couple of months, I learned that someone found my site using a disgusting search string, and I wrote a post about it. A little while later, I had accumulated enough weird search strings to make up a post. Thus Keyword Madness was born. Now, every couple of months or so, I go through my Google Analytics archives and collect some of the weirder keyword hits (and believe me; this site gets all the crazies). Today I share my 12th volume (since moving to this blog).

As always, these are unedited search strings that brought people to this site.

my husband removed his testicle
Wait, he removed his own testicle? By himself?!? What the fuck is wrong with him?

learn from my stupid mistakes
Uh, OK.

fork failure 141
perhaps after 141 failures, it's time to admit defeat and just use a spoon

tempra and gravol at the same time?
You really want them to sleep, huh?

gril sith zoo sex
Wow; barbecue, Star Wars AND animals? You win the most fucked up fetish award, man.

abba patio canopy instructions
the unspoken tragedy of declining record sales

my dad doesn't want anyone to sleep at my house how do i perswade him to let my girlfriend sleep over
tell him otherwise you'll do her in the backseat of his car, without laying a sheet down

the mind reader reads my thoughts before i think them
Let's think about this for a moment: how can the mind reader is "read" your thoughts before you think them? Technically, wouldn't he be planting that thought in your head?

how to change the behaviour of 3 year old from egoistic to friendly sharing buddy
Pavlov had some ideas. I've also heard good things about this thing called "allowing your kid to grow up".

siblings don't speak to me
I wouldn't either after what you did, bastard.

my daughter fell out of my bed, and hit her head on the side table
maybe it's time to move that side table?

will bed bugs go in to ears?+i have a smallbaby
I was going to say no, bed bugs will not go in your ears, but if you have a small baby, well, that's a completely different matter. Actually, I'm surprised they haven't eaten your brain by... You know what? Nevermind.

stocking feet rape shoes
honestly, if you're looking for rape shoes, please don't come here

echogenic foci sucks baby
echogenic foci are dark spots on an ultrasound; I think it is unlikely that they would become something that could suck your baby in (like a black hole)

why dad will not wash the plates
because if he leaves them in the sink long enough ~~his wife will give up~~ fairies will come and clean them

Finally, there was a common thread in a number of the search strings this time:
play with yourself
ways to play with yourself
can you play with yourself when you have your period
if you are a boy how do you play with yourself in bed
is it okay to play with yourself when pregnant
ways to play with yourself for girls
what is it called when you play with yourself
OK, listen: nowhere in this blog do those three words appear in sequence. However, that act, despite what your religion may have told you about hairy palms and the like, is perfectly normal and natural. As for when and how you perform it, that is at your discretion.

Previous Editions
Volume I
Volume II
Volume III
Volume IV
Volume V
Volume VI
Volume VII
Volume VIII
Volume IX
Volume X
Volume XI

The Change From Sweet To Creepy

talesfromthedadside@gmail.com (SciFi Dad) — Thu, 02 Jul 2009 10:15:00 +0000

I have a brief matter of housekeeping before we get to today's post. Some of you (at least one person emailed me within an hour of my usual publish time) may have noticed that I didn't post yesterday, which is a testament to my habitual nature (as well as your need for routine). Yesterday was Canada Day, which is a statutory holiday, and a long time ago I decided that I would typically post on "working days" only (to avoid feeling pressured to post on the Monday of a long weekend).

Of course, next week I'm taking vacation time, and will probably lapse in my posting again. However, none of that has been decided yet.

Breaking The Habit - Linkin Park
Every night before I tuck her into bed, I tell Munchkin that I love her, and that no matter how old she gets or how big she gets, she'll always be my little girl, my special little girl. And every night after that, Munchkin asks me, "Daddy, are you getting up for work tomorrow morning?"

*    *    *
Yesterday, MTM found the one mall that was open on Canada Day, and with the threat of rain looming in the forecast, we decided to do some shopping. We ended up at Ardene (which is a store that could essentially be renamed Tweens 'R' Us), where Munchkin spent 20 minutes shopping ~~like a woman~~ slowly and meticulously for hair accessories for school. We also happened upon a great deal on a generic (i.e. not Disney Princess, My Little Pony, or other) backpack that is just about the size of her (but apparently the teacher told MTM they need "real" backpacks, not little ones), complete with a ~~cell phone holder~~ place for her glasses.

*    *    *
I've actually been off work since Friday. We were supposed to go to a wedding for a friend of MTM's on Saturday and stay over for two nights (returning Monday), and with the holiday Wednesday, I just took the two days off. However, all four of us had varying degrees of a chest cold, so we opted out because every configuration we tried either involved more than five hours (of driving time) in a car with two sick kids or MTM becoming engorged because of time away from Buddy. Bottom line, my answer to Munchkin's question above was, "No," for quite a while.

*    *    *
Most nights these days MTM ends up in the twin bed in Buddy's room because he's still getting up in the middle of the night to feed and she doesn't want to disrupt my sleep. On the nights where I don't have to get up for work the next morning, Munchkin has learned that she can crawl into our bed with me and snuggle until her parent-legislated 7.00am wake-up time. (Incidentally, she has also figured out that Daddy is a very sound sleeper and is generally groggy at 3.00am, so she has occasionally climbed into our bed - with my semi-conscious permission - on "work days" as well.)

This vacation saw her waking up with me every morning. When we travel later this month (both to visit my parents and the inlaws' cottage), she will sleep with me while MTM and Buddy bunk up (again, for breastfeeding and uninterrupted sleep reasons).

*    *    *
My little girl is growing up. She was mature enough to rationalize with when choosing her backpack that getting a light pink Disney Princess one ("with a bow Daddy... a bow) wasn't as practical as a dark coloured one (in terms of keeping it clean). She thought about outfits and matching and options when choosing her hair accessories for the fall. She turned to MTM at one point during the shopping trip when I had gone off to check out cell phones alone that she "missed her father".

I say that she'll always be my little girl, and in a way she always will, but in other ways she's already shedding that moniker.

And while I'm not saying I expect the day to come soon, nor do I expect it to come before Buddy is sleeping through the night (fuck, I hope not), but at some point Munchkin sleeping with me will become weird, strange, awkward, inappropriate. It's that fine line between dads and daughters: they'll always be your little princess, always able to wrap their arms around you and give you a kiss, but a some point the differences in your gender become a consideration. I know that day will come. I just don't know when it's coming or if I'm ready for it.

At what age does it become wrong for a father and daughter to sleep in the same bed? When does it stop being sweet and start being creepy? I know the answer isn't four (or at least I don't think the answer is four), but I don't know what it is. I'd love to hear your thoughts on this.

Compensating

talesfromthedadside@gmail.com (SciFi Dad) — Tue, 30 Jun 2009 10:15:00 +0000

The Way I Am - Eminem
I have long maintained that we (parents) parent our children in response to how we were parented, that we try to raise our kids in a manner that corrects any mistakes we feel our parents made (and theoretically emulate anything we felt worked well).

Growing up, my father worked shift work at a factory. When he was on days, he'd be home for dinner but would (somewhat understandably, in hindsight) fall asleep immediately afterward and awaken just before our bedtime. On Friday nights, he'd go out drinking at his club right after dinner. If he was working days on the weekend, he went to the club for a few beers before coming home after work. If he wasn't working that weekend at all, he was at the club all afternoon. Bottom line: weekend dinners meant my dad was drunk.

When he was on afternoons, we'd see him at lunch (we lived across the street from my elementary school, so we came home for lunch) for 30 minutes, and if we woke up around midnight when he got home from work. If he was working afternoons on a weekend, he'd sometimes leave home earlier than usual and go drinking at the club before work. This wasn't common, but it did happen.

Now that I have Munchkin and Buddy, I try to be the father my father wasn't, and not be the father he was. A huge part of my guilt about being a working father stems from how he spent his time. I am paranoid to a fault about my kids not knowing how important and special they are to me. I am so scared of them remembering me drunk that I rarely have more than one beer, and only then because I'm in a social situation where a man having a drink is appropriate and/or expected.

I try to play with them as much as I can, even though I'm tired when I get home from work because I remember the longing of watching my father snore on the floor with his feet raised on a chair (don't ask me to explain; I just recount the facts of my childhood) wishing he would play cars with me. Sometimes, all I can muster is holding Munchkin in my arms while watching Treehouse, but she seems OK with that because a) tv before bed is a treat for her and b) she usually slides off the chair, turns off the tv, and then hugs me and says I'm the best Daddy.

But the question that occurred to me recently was, How much of my parenting "style" is me compensating for my father's inadequacies, and how much is me? Obviously, I don't know the answer to this question. I would like to think that most of it is my nature, that instinctively I want to be a good dad and act accordingly. However, if my father wasn't the way he was, how different would my approach to parenting be?

What about your parents? Did they do a good job? Do you try to emulate what they did with your own kids? Or do you feel like they made some mistakes and you're trying to avoid those same pitfalls with your own kids? And how much of what you do as a parent is driven by instinct and how much by avoiding what your parents did?

Thanks for all of your suggestions yesterday to my bath issue. Last night I solved my problem (at least for the time being). I borrowed a page from the US military, and employed a "shock and awe" campaign on Buddy. Every time he went to roll over, I splashed water in his face, which surprised (and fortunately, entertained) him enough to stop the roll. A disoriented opponent is a defeated opponent, right?

The Nightmare Of Bathtime

talesfromthedadside@gmail.com (SciFi Dad) — Mon, 29 Jun 2009 10:15:00 +0000

Before we get to today's post, for those ~~lurkers~~ readers who only read via feeds, I have made some changes to the layout of my blog. They are subtle at first glance, but are actually fairly significant in the area of site navigation. So, if you're interested in such things, click through. Either way, if you have thoughts about it, please share in the comments.

Behold! The Night Mare - Smashing Pumpkins
When Munchkin was the age that Buddy is now, although I tried to connect with her, I was nowhere near as close with her as I am with Buddy today. So, I was rarely, if ever, in charge of bathing her during this time since neither MTM (who, incidentally, had a complete blog makeover this weekend - you should check it out and let her know what you think) cared to listen to a baby screech for that long. Subsequently, I cannot compare her at this age to Buddy. However, since I have no recollection of MTM telling me about baths like the ones I experienced this weekend, I think it is safe to assume Munchkin was never like this.

It used to be that Buddy loved his bath. He would get all excited as he got naked and saw me coming to get him shirtless (baby baths are wet, yo), and would spend the entire bath cooing and splashing and smiling and breathing quickly. Now, he's just as excited, but he refuses to stay even remotely still. It's like someone injects him with crystal meth before the bath, turning him into a human corkscrew.

Spin. Turn. Flip. Spin.

He spins on to his tummy and gulps massive amounts of bath water, sputtering the whole time. If I am successful in pinning him down via one leg (I can only hold one leg with my one hand; I need the other to, you know, wash him), he uses the free leg to leverage himself on my arm and push himself free (and head first into the end of the tub with an audible thud; we've decided that the "no tears, no brain damage" rule applies).

I did Friday night and Sunday night baths. MTM gave me a reprieve on Saturday, although from the sounds emanating from the bathroom her experience was the same. After last night's incident, where it got so bad I had Munchkin hold both his ankles while I washed him like it was some kind of high school hazing incident involving shaving cream and honey (or maybe that was just my school, or maybe just me), I'm not sure who will bathe him tonight.

We've discussed alternatives, such as:

bathing him in an infant tub in the regular tub with a rubber mat underneath to avoid slipping (MTM)
a sitting shower, where there's no standing water and we use the detachable shower head (me)
tethering him by the ankles to the faucet (me)
hosing him down in the driveway (me)
getting a dog that will lick him clean after every meal

However, we have no solid conclusion (I'm lobbying for getting a dog to lick him clean after meals).

Buddy can't be the only kid who is like this at this age (nine months on Wednesday; crap, when did he become three quarters of a year old?) right? Tell me your kids were like this too. Then tell me how you dealt with it (i.e. what breed of dog did you get; that's the only solution that makes sense).

Neglectimommy Volume 4

talesfromthedadside@gmail.com (SciFi Dad) — Fri, 26 Jun 2009 10:15:00 +0000

Some Days Are Better Than Others - U2
Welcome to Volume 4 of Neglectimommy. You can read about the origins of this serial (and view the first comic) in the first volume.

Neglectimommy Archive
Volume 1
Volume 2
Volume 3

It's hard to believe (at least for me), but it has been almost a month since I published a Neglectimommy comic. Whatever. Absence makes the heart grow fonder and shit like that. As always, I welcome feedback (even if it's accusing me of something completely untrue); if you don't like them, I'll stop publishing them (although I'll probably keep making them because my wife loves them so much).

Without further ado, I give you Neglectimommy Volume 4: Going Mobile:

click to enlarge (and make text legible)

"Tell Me A Story From When You Were A Little Boy"

talesfromthedadside@gmail.com (SciFi Dad) — Thu, 25 Jun 2009 10:15:00 +0000

Story Of Her Fate - Screaming Trees
Last year, I wrote about how Munchkin wanted to hear stories from when she was a baby. The made-up stories mentioned in that post didn't last too long (I don't remember specifically why, but I suspect it had something to do with MTM taking issue to me telling Munchkin she got wasted and puked on our lawn as an infant), but her desire to hear stories from her infancy never waned.

Somewhere along the line, she developed a curiosity about our childhoods: what we were like, what our siblings (her aunts) were like, what our parents were like, what things were different, et cetera. Now, she only occasionally asks for a story about her as a baby; it's all about Mommy and Daddy as little kids.

Generally, I try to use the stories to teach a lesson of some sort. For example, I told her how I only had one Star Wars ship growing up (as compared to her countless My Little Ponies or Disney Princess dolls) because we didn't have as much money to buy toys. I told her how excited I was to have that toy, and how special it was, and how lucky she is to have as many toys as she does. Another favourite is how when I was two, I wasn't allowed to cross our street, but I knew my older sister (who was in grade seven) went to the school across the street. So, one fine warm day I sat on the curb and howled her name over and over, pleading with her to come home and play with me. Since it was warm, the windows were open, and her classmates teased her about my cries. (But I knew not to cross the street, even though I wanted to see my big sister. Safety was - and still is - important.)

Other stories illustrate the difference in eras. She was shocked to learn that there was no Treehouse, that CBC Kids consisted of Mr. Dress-up and Sesame Street, that microwaves and dishwashers were not available, and that we didn't have a computer in the house. She's also fascinated by the differences in societal norms: that I was allowed to sleep in the back seat - lying down without a seat belt - while driving on a road trip with my dad (or that I rode shotgun for parts of it) when I was five, or that MTM was taken home from the hospital not in a car seat, but in my MIL's arms.

And there are some that I'm not allowed to tell anymore, like the one about how my younger sister and I nagged my parents until they let us get up to open Christmas presents at 3.00am, and then when sent back to bed afterward, waited until they fell asleep and crept into the living room and brought toys back to our room and played with them until dawn. Apparently MTM is afraid I'm giving Munchkin ideas.

The problem though is the same as I lamented earlier: there are a finite number of stories from my childhood that are appropriate (I have enough sense to not tell her about the time I set the carpet on fire when I screwed a stove fuse into a light socket) and interesting (I doubt regaling her with tales of my experiences as the overhead projector operator at my church would be successful). Eventually, I'll have to borrow stories from other people's childhoods.

And that's where you come in. Tell me a story from when you were a little boy or girl, please. (If it involves torturing small animals or petty theft, you probably should keep those to yourself.)

Post Script
The one sort-of negative effect of all that nostalgia is that sometimes it spills over into real life, like a few weeks ago when I won an auction on ebay for a Boba Fett Slave 1 (not the original, all of which are in pretty crappy condition, but a re-release that is very similar to what I had as a kid). It was almost $50US, which sounds nuts until you realize that the next week another one went for almost $100US. So technically, I had to get it because it was such a deal.

Trying New Things

talesfromthedadside@gmail.com (SciFi Dad) — Wed, 24 Jun 2009 10:15:00 +0000

New Slang - The Shins

A while back, in my How MTM Are You post, I mentioned that my wife continues to try new biscuit recipes despite having already tried dozens and finding one that is awesome.

The truth is that she is never satisfied with a recipe's success, and must always chase the elusive better one.

This weekend, she made a chocolate peanut butter cake for dessert for Father's Day. Originally, it was supposed to be my birthday cake, but she was sick and I discouraged her from baking at that time. So, she made it for her family Father's Day dinner.

As it was being served, my SIL asked her if it was the good chocolate cake recipe (in other words, the one that we had had for my birthday for two years, for two of Munchkin's birthdays, for a black forest cake MTM made once, et cetera). MTM replied in the negative, indicating that she was trying a new one instead.

I muttered to my SIL that MTM is always doing this: trying new recipes when everyone already likes one. My SIL stood by her sister, saying, "You have to keep trying new things!"

My single, just moving in with her boyfriend, SIL didn't laugh when I said, "Then why bother getting married if you have to keep trying new things?" But her boyfriend smirked.

And nobody laughed when I told MTM that - now that we all understood people need to keep trying new things - it was time for her to meet my mistress.

Now, can anyone explain why my inlaws don't like me very much (because honestly, I'm at a loss)? Also, that was funny, right?

What Have I Done?

talesfromthedadside@gmail.com (SciFi Dad) — Tue, 23 Jun 2009 10:15:00 +0000

Happy Together - The Turtles
Yesterday, I came home from work to find MTM and the kids playing outside. As I was getting ready to go out to the back, MTM was bringing Buddy in for a diaper change. I gave both of them a quick kiss, and started on dinner while Munchkin continued to play outside.

Since it was so hot out (no, it wasn't scorchingly hot like we were in Arizona or something, but honestly people, we get tons of snow here, so we're more sensitive to the heat than others), we decided most of dinner would be done on the grill, which is my domain (usually). So, while Buddy rolled around on the kitchen floor fussily thanks to a cold that the three of them have (and by the grace of whoever I do not) and a bad diaper rash, I cooked outside, only occasionally making a face at him through the sliding door window.

While we ate, Buddy stared at me and smiled non-stop. He kept saying, "Daddee! Daddee! Dadadadadadee!" over and over. He munched happily on my grilled/roasted potatoes, his gummy grin often showing the mashed up tubers therein.

Why does he like me so much? I wondered to myself. It's not that I'm looking a gift horse in the mouth; I love the fact that he's so attached to me, but it's not like he's got this long memory of time spent with me or anything. Object permanence is a relatively new development for him, so I'm still kind of the big goofy hairy one who shows up every day.

And it's not just isolated to yesterday. He has been excited to see me (not happy, not pleased, but palpable excitement) when I come home from work or when he sees me in the morning before work for weeks now. He smiles wide, repeats my name over and over (usually with the sign for Daddy as well) and gets that short breath or hyperventilating thing that babies do when they really like something, and if I fail to pick him up or at the very least acknowledge him with some physical contact, he gets very upset.

Lately (as in since the beginning of May, possibly a bit before that; I'm sure MTM has a date marked in her calendar when it all started heading south) I have been working longer hours, such that my time with the kids is limited to eating family dinner (usually), giving them baths, and a brief cuddle and/or story before bed. Of course, weekends are all-family all-the-time, but weekdays? Not so much.

The egoist in me wants to believe that it's because I'm such an amazing dad when I do spend time with him that he loves me just for that. The realist in me knows that isn't possible, at least not yet (nor does either one of us - the egoist or the realist - believe I am that amazing of a dad). So what is it? Is it genetics, some kind of subliminal bond between father and child that transcends logic, maybe by scent or even instinct? Or maybe it's just familiarity; I may not be a long-term resident in his daily world, but perhaps I am a frequent enough visitor to warrant this sort of reception? Maybe it's just that he misses me when I leave him, either to sleep or to go to work.

I get the connection he has with MTM. She takes care of him all day. She breastfeeds him. She sleeps with him for part of the night. Their bond makes sense. For him to react with such vigor when she enters the room following a prolonged absence makes sense. But why me? What have I done for him, an infant, to warrant him being so happy when we're together? I would love to hear your thoughts on this.

Father's Day* Is...

talesfromthedadside@gmail.com (SciFi Dad) — Mon, 22 Jun 2009 10:15:00 +0000

Today - Smashing Pumpkins

schlepping both kids around (solo) in the rain to buy a present for your wife, complete with loading and unloading them several times in the rain
sitting in your best man's living room with your son fast asleep on your chest while he does the dishes following your Father's Day dinner while your wives are sitting in another room chatting
walking the aisles of a grocery store at 10.00pm with a four year old in pajamas because a) she wouldn't fall asleep on the drive home and b) your wife forgot a few things for Father's Day breakfast (like, bread for toast)
breakfast, with bacon (he didn't actually eat any; he just sucked off some salty grease):
receiving a card that proves Father's Day is a Hallmark holiday (a pink card with Cinderella on it that says "Happy Father's Day" and has a recordable feature that ends your child's message with a song from the movie)
walking around a ~~crap and stuff~~ arts and crafts show to buy gifts for your MIL's (who doesn't really like you) birthday
having your son wear this:
taking a two hour nap with your little girl
impressing your MIL (who still doesn't really like you) by purchasing infant son a big Upsie Daisy because it's a girl doll (we found it on clearance when shopping Saturday; I cleared the purchase with MTM on Sunday; he just loved the doll too much to pass it up):
moving a bunch of furniture (including disassembling some Ikea crap) for your SIL and her boyfriend into your inlaws' basement and then not getting thanked for it
getting to spend the weekend with your wife and kids and confirming that's all that really matters

* some of these events occurred on Saturday, not Sunday

If it sounds like I didn't have a good Father's Day weekend, you misunderstand. Despite all that up there, I had a great weekend with a lot of fun with my family. Sure, we ate at my inlaws and it was tense. Sure, I had to endure a craft show on Father's Day because ~~I am a fucking saint~~ it rained on Saturday, when MTM planned to go, but we still had fun.

And, I got this present:

Can't figure out what it is? What if you look inside?

Still no clue? What if we zoom in on a couple of items?

Those last two things? Those are foam shapes, one with an "X" (a kiss) and one with an "O" (a hug). (Go ahead and cry now, I'll wait.) That is a box of hugs and kisses for me to bring to work, so that when I miss her I can just open the box and get a hug and a kiss. She (Munchkin) came up with this all by herself (have I mentioned lately that she is four years old?!?) from the box to the decorating with things I like (in case the image isn't clear, there's "sports", the Detroit Lions, the Detroit Red Wings, Star Wars, basketball and football, as well as "Daddy" all podged on) to the foam shapes stamped with "X" and "O". How freakin' amazing is my kid?

OK, so how was your Father's Day? Did you have fun? Did Dad take the day and golf, or did he spend it with the kids? What sorts of gifts did Dad get?

Blogs By Dads

talesfromthedadside@gmail.com (SciFi Dad) — Fri, 19 Jun 2009 10:15:00 +0000

Hey Daddy - Korn
Last month I posted a list of blogs by moms because Mother's Day was approaching. I had to do the same for Father's Day. What follows is a list of blogs by dads that I read. As with last time, I encourage you to click through and read some of their posts.

Laid-Off Dad - LoD was the first dad blogger I read, found via an article in Parents magazine that I was reading while at home with my broken ankle. His blog planted the seed of an idea in me that a father could blog about parenting.

Cynical Dad - Chag is another of my earlier discoveries in the dad blog world. He usually writes about funny stuff, or about music, or spelling bees.

Dad Gone Mad - Danny has been around forever in blog years. If you haven't read his hilarious stuff, you are really missing out.

Dads Who Mock the World - Russ started reading and commenting at my wife's blog first, but eventually brought his dry sense of humour over here as well. His stories as an at-home dad are eye-opening, at least for someone like me who never knew any SAHD growing up.

Luke, I Am Your Father - James (who wants you to call him SeattleDad, but will always be James to me) writes about his experiences raising his young boy with a bend toward introspection, and does a great job at it.

HONEA EXPRESS - Whit has been blogging for a lot longer than I have been reading him. His posts can be strange yet entertaining, funny yet heartbreaking, and thought-provoking yet personal.

Daddy Geek Boy - Daddy Geek Boy has been in my reader for a little over six months, and in that time has developed a great style and voice. He writes about pop culture or sampling new kinds of snack foods as easily as he does about fatherhood, which makes his blog an ecclectic yet entertaining read.

Poop and Boogies - I've been reading William for a while now, and his posts can run the gamut from endearing to entertaining, and all points in between.

Rude Cactus - I have been reading Chris since my early days of blogging, and am constantly amazed by the things that happen to him in public bathrooms. (Oh, and he writes about his kids a lot too.)

Single Parent Dad - Ian entered my reader back in January, and his posts both haunt and entertain me. He is living (what I consider to be) every father's worst nightmare: raising his son after losing his wife. I am constantly amazed by the strength he demonstrates.

Creative-Type Dad - Tony is an infrequent poster (there have been times where I thought he had quit for good, only to find a new post the next week), but when he does, it's always great, and usually about Lionel Richie or KFC.

MetroDad - Pierre is a great writer with a wicked sense of humour. His stuff tends to be funny, but he can also pound out a tear-jerker when he wants to.

Work + Play ≠ Dull Boy - DenGuy is another one of those occasional bloggers. He's a SAHD to two kids, and often has interesting stories about life as the outsider in a world of mostly SAHMs.

The Adventures of Super Mega Dad - Super Mega Dad hasn't written much lately, but he swears he's getting back into the groove. I for one hope that he does, because he writes an honest and thoughtful blog.

The Cheek of God - Brian is a very new addition to my reading list. His blog is more personal than strictly about parenting, so it probably has a wider appeal. I know that I enjoy it.

(As with my moms list, if you are not listed above, please don't take offense. Also, Happy Father's Day to all the dads out there - blogging or not.)

So, what did you think? Did I miss one of your favourites? What blogs by dads would you recommend?

Understatements

talesfromthedadside@gmail.com (SciFi Dad) — Thu, 18 Jun 2009 10:15:00 +0000

Who Knew - Pink
On Tuesday, Munchkin's (future) school had a head start program for the JK class starting in September. Basically, they placed the new kids into groups of three, and brought them into the existing classroom for an hour.

She did circle time, where her future classmates welcomed her to Kindergarten. She also did some painting, where she mixed a fine shade of brown, like most most kids her age do. She got some computer time (some literacy based game, apparently), and played with some play dough as well. She also toured the Kindergarten bathroom. Several times.

She was so excited when MTM came back to retrieve her that MTM barely got to speak with the teacher at all because Munchkin was bouncing around so much (this was not her typical reaction). She called me at work and told me all about it (at a frightening speed), and shared the same stories (and excitement) when I got home that night.

To say that it was a positive experience for her is an understatement.

From what little time MTM had with her teacher, we were able to learn that Munchkin was enthusiastic, but also knew to raise her hand before speaking. She was also quite polite, and the teacher had nothing but positive things to say about her. The teacher also gave MTM warm fuzzies (and this comes from a Kindergarten teacher herself - recall that MTM taught JK/SK for five years before Munchkin was born) as far as how she'll handle Munchkin.

To say that MTM and I were proud is an understatement.

To say that I was relieved is an enormous understatement.

As much as I believe that MTM being a SAHM is the right decision for our family, as Munchkin approached school age I began to question it more and more. Experiences like our first ballet class made me sick with worry that our kid would be the one sobbing in the corner, or, even worse, the one who freaked out so badly that the teacher broke down and sent her home for the day. She will have spent her first four and a half years with MTM when she starts JK, and only the last year of that sharing MTM with Buddy. She was - and is - very attached to her mother, and I feared that she would prove to be too attached.

Now, I am in no way saying that we are out of the woods. I have been rectally probed by fate's fickle and hubris-riddled hand enough times to know that would be foolish. However, I am not as concerned as I was Tuesday morning when I woke up. There are still things we need to overcome, like spending more than an hour there, actually using the bathroom there, and taking the bus. But those are all milestones that now seem within reach.

My little girl doesn't seem as little today. She's overcome things more quickly than I thought she could, and she is quickly growing into the girl I always knew she could be, but wasn't sure she would be. And in a way, I feel like an ass for ever doubting her in the first place, but that is my burden to shoulder now. She was ready all along. Who knew?

What about you? Have your kids ever done something that genuinely surprised you, something that you weren't sure they would ever do? How did that feel?

Stories From The (Not So) Cheap Seats

talesfromthedadside@gmail.com (SciFi Dad) — Wed, 17 Jun 2009 10:15:00 +0000

Ballerina Girl - Lionel Richie
(Yes, the title would flow better without the parentheses, but when I'm paying $20 a head for a show that runs less than two hours including intermission, and my kid is on stage for a grand total of four minutes, those seats cannot be called cheap.)

Rather than recap the day, which would be the blog reading equivalent of watching paint dry with a window open (sure the occasional bug will fly in and make things exciting for a moment here and there, but ultimately it's still a pretty boring experience), I will share some anecdotes.

Sometimes, Logic Works
Munchkin was still apprehensive come Sunday morning for the dress rehearsal, so much so that when they called her group to line up, she got a panic-stricken look on her face and gestured for MTM, who went over and spoke with her for a few minutes before coming back to Buddy and me.

"She's really scared. She wants me to come with her."

"OK. No problem," I said as I walked over to Munchkin while MTM stayed with Buddy.

"Hey kiddo. Mommy says you're nervous."

"Uh huh."

"Well, she's going to push Buddy and I'll stay beside you until you go in."

"I don't want to go in without you."

"Munchkin, all the girls that are with you have tutus on. I don't have a tutu. Do you want me to put on a tutu?

"No," she said, laughing.

"Then I can't go with you."

"OK Daddy!"

(Sure, it was probably more about her stronger attachment to MTM than my mad skillz, but it still felt like a parenting victory.)

Teacher Does Not Equal Safety Conscious
The dressing room for Munchkin's class was shared with two older classes (the girls were all between the ages of four and six years, and there were over 20). It was also conveniently located right off the main foyer, which made finding and navigating to it with a stroller easy.

Unfortunately, it was also equipped with super-sized doors (as in, a pair of doors that were each three or four metres wide), as well as a door to the backstage area (on the opposite side of the room) and the dance school assigned one parent to monitor them during the show.

Is it just us (MTM and I), or would this sort of thing bother you as well? The issue (for us) was the lack of supervision and extremely accessible - especially to an exit - room. Or are we the only kidnap-fearing parents out there?

That's What Difference A Year Makes?
Munchkin's class was all girls who are starting JK this fall, meaning they will be four by the end of this year. (Translation: some kids were not even three when they started class.) The next level up was all kids in JK or SK, at least one year older than Munchkin's classmates.

Their routines were almost identical, save for one or two moves in the older class that Munchkin's lacked. However, Munchkin's class was noticably better; more cohesive, more attentive, and seemed to know the routine a lot more.

Of course, some of this can be traced back to the kids themselves; it is entirely possible that Munchkin lucked into a talented group. However, at least some of it falls to the teacher, and for that reason I am skeptical about investing another year's worth of fees and time at this school.

Right now, my plan is to suggest alternative, non-dance extra curricular activities that would make scheduling dance class impossible. Then, go back to the school in another year or two, because those kids looked like they had learned something Munchkin hadn't. So: any ideas for extra-curricular stuff for a four year old?

The Performance
It was, in a word, amazing. She smiled and concentrated on her routine, she nailed ~~approximations of~~ all her moves (and no one got hit or run into like at rehearsals). She was literally beaming with pride when we went to find her at intermission to bring her roses (yes, we brought a four year old roses; don't judge). She asked me on the drive home when her next recital would be.

When her group finished, I started to cry. I wasn't a sobbing mess like MTM, but it was definitely a bit dusty in the theatre. I feel like such a cliche saying this, but it was so moving to watch the culmination of her efforts over the past ten months. Newer readers don't know how it started out, how she wanted to leave unless she had a parent with her, or the cautious optimism after an early success. She really had come a long way from the scared little girl who wouldn't go into the studio unless MTM was right beside her, and I was so proud of her for it.

OK, I bragged about my kid today, so now it's your turn. Tell us something your kid has worked at lately that you're now seeing the sum of their efforts (in addition to the other questions littered throughout this post, of course).

Sick Spouse

talesfromthedadside@gmail.com (SciFi Dad) — Tue, 16 Jun 2009 10:15:00 +0000

A Hard Days Night - The Beatles
First of all, everyone get out your reading eyes (related to, although not to be confused with, your listening ears). MTM is still sick. She never "got better"; she has been sick since last week.

On Thursday morning I got up and, before leaving for work, checked in with MTM to see how her night went with Buddy. She informed me that she spent the night vomiting, and that she still felt nauseous. I offered to stay home, but she said she'd be OK. At 11.00am she called me, barely speaking, and said that she couldn't do it and that she needed me home immediately. For perspective: in the more than four years she has been a SAHM, this has never happened. So, I came home and fed the kids lunch and got her some broth and started to work from home while an attention-deprived preschooler tried to coax me into board games.

Friday I didn't even bother going into the office, and spent my day in similar fashion to Thursday afternoon. Sometime after lunch, we thought MTM had turned the corner, but we later realized that the sickness had just travelled through to her intestines and was no longer causing vomit, but was still making her do something that made us fear dehydration. By Friday afternoon she had lost 10lbs in two days.

Since then she has seen small glimpses of "OK", but never "good" and mostly "poor" to "sweet merciful crap when will it end?" Unfortunately, I am scheduled to be out of the office (and therefore unable to work from home) for the week.

It would be easy for me to deceive you and say that I don't mind shouldering the load while MTM is sick, that working from home was a wonderful experience because I got lunch with my family and spend more time with them. While that is true, it is not the whole truth. The truth is that it has been difficult trying to juggle everything (or as close an approximation to everything as I could muster while still doing my job), and I have found it frustrating at times, like yesterday when I stopped by the grocery store on my way home, only to have to go back out there a few hours later because MTM forgot something. I'm not mad at her: she's sick, it's easy to forget stuff when you're sick, but damn if it isn't annoying to have to go back out just when you're about to get some down time for the first time all day. Does that make me a bad husband for admitting this? I don't know.

I'm struggling here, mainly because there is no answer. When you're a SAHM, you don't get sick days, but sometimes you are too sick to do anything: what then? We cannot rely on my inlaws because (and I sort of understand this) they're afraid to get sick themselves. I can't keep working from home because my work requires me to be at site right now. So what can we do? We could ask a neighbour, but the possibility that one of the kids is incubating what MTM has makes me afraid to spread this. (Yes, technically I could be carrying it to work, but I can't live life in a bubble.)

I'm also finding it difficult to not feel guilty about being frustrated about being tired. Work sucks right now, so spending the day there only to come home to an exhausted wife and two fussy kids is draining. Again, I'm not blaming MTM. I just find the circumstances more than I'd like to bear.

Those of you who are SAHP (or are married to one): how do you deal with the at-home parent being sick? Do you have backup, like a friend or a family member, that you can drop the kids with? Does the parent who works out of the home take time off?

Another consequence of my situation between work and home is that I have less time for blog reading, which means that some of you may notice a drop in my comments over the next little while. Please know that this doesn't mean I've stopped reading completely, but rather that time has become more limited.

A Good Weekend To Be Me

talesfromthedadside@gmail.com (SciFi Dad) — Mon, 15 Jun 2009 10:15:00 +0000

A Night Like This - The Cure
Big weekend here, folks. Huge. In light of this, today's post will be short on words and heavy on ~~schmaltz~~ sentimentality. In bullet form:

I teared up twice this weekend: once on Saturday when Munchkin gave me a book she made (see below) and again on Sunday as Munchkin's group finished their performance; it was a good weekend to be SciFi Dad
my birthday was good, considering the fact that MTM was so sick from stomach flu that I worked from home Thursday and Friday
I got two action figures: an Imperial Engineer (Battlefront II) and a titanium series (metallic) Boba Fett
I also cornered the market on DVDs (it seems): S1-S3 of Friday Night Lights and S1-S3 of Prison Break, among others
Munchkin did an amazing job at her recital; she was so excited and didn't want to leave the theatre when it was done
Buddy was a champ all day Sunday as he was passed around and even tried to dance from a sitting position... perhaps he'll join their hip hop dance program
more blog-worthy stuff happened that I will expand upon as the week progresses (and I am more rested)

I will leave you with this. It is a book Munchkin made (with very little assistance from MTM) for me for my birthday (and apparently Father's Day). She sounded out the words, she made up the sentences. It's about things I like:

Daddy's Birthday Father's Day Book, Munchkin Buddy Mommy

This is Daddy

This is Munchkin's Hand

This is Buddy's Hand

This is Tigger (my favourite Pooh character)

This is Munchkin

This is basketball

This is the Detroit Lions

This is the Red Wings

This is our family Munchkin, Buddy, Mommy, Daddy
No deep, probing questions today, folks; just two simple ones. First, how fucking awesome is that book? Second, what was one good thing (or several) from your weekend?

... To Me

talesfromthedadside@gmail.com (SciFi Dad) — Fri, 12 Jun 2009 10:15:00 +0000

Birthday - The Beatles
Tomorrow is my 35th birthday. The old SciFi Dad (also known as "pre-MTM SciFi Dad") would have used that loophole to avoid mentioning his birthday at all this year since nobody reads blogs on weekends. Allow me to explain.

I was never a big fan of birthdays. Presents? Sure. Cake? Hook me up. But the whole being the center of attention thing, the being sung to by people thing? No thanks. (Incidentally, is it just me or does the traditional Happy Birthday sound more and more like a funeral dirge when a large group sings it, say at an office or something?) Armchair psychologists everywhere are concluding that it has to do with self-esteem and not feeling like I deserve it. Maybe so, maybe not.

Regardless, the second dinner date I had with MTM was on my birthday (see #7), and I learned very quickly that she had ideas about birthdays that I never did. In her opinion (and I kind of get it, more so now that we have little kids) birthdays aren't about you, they're about the people who love you, or care about you, or like you, or whatever. They're about the opportunity, once a year, for those people to celebrate the fact that you ~~escaped a uterine gulag~~ were born.

So now I accept whatever plans she and Munchkin have made. In the past, MTM has tried to respect my desire for low-key pseudo-ignoring of the day while still celebrating it (notable exception: my third birthday with her, where she arranged a birthday party with my friends). Usually it's a day with my family, a day trip somewhere, and I get to pick what we have for dinner. And there's cake.

This year I get my wish because of circumstances. Our plan is to keep things simple on Saturday because Munchkin has her recital on Sunday and we don't want her overtired or anything, so stuff like the zoo or the science center are out. We are likely going to get takeout (probably burgers) and have a "tv dinner" with a movie (not Disney princesses, much to my daughter's chagrin). But that probably means next year I'm going to have to accept a party or something.

What about you? Do you like your birthday? Do you share MTM's philosophy about it being a day for others more than for you? And most importantly: is it wrong for a man to receive Star Wars action figures for his 35th birthday? It's not, right?

Notes

talesfromthedadside@gmail.com (SciFi Dad) — Thu, 11 Jun 2009 10:15:00 +0000

More Than Words - Extreme

Most weekday mornings, I am long gone by the time MTM and the kids ~~wake up~~ get out of bed and come downstairs. I have always been more of a "morning person", and combine that with my intense hatred of commuter traffic, I have been an early to the office, early home guy for years.

When Munchkin was still quite young (like around 18 months or so), I started leaving her little notes on her picnic table. They were on post-its or pieces of small note paper, and mostly said stuff like, "I love you," or "Have a great day," or "Be a good girl," or something about that specific day (for example some encouragement about ballet class when she was apprehensive about it). She loved receiving them. She would discover the note and hand it to MTM to read, and then carry it around the house while saying that she had a note from Daddy and that she was a lucky girl (MTM had told her she was lucky; she didn't conclude that herself.)

As time passed, sometimes my notes became more elaborate. I would take larger sheets of paper and use crayons or markers to make them colourful. I would accent the note with stickers on occasion. But no matter if it a was a simple note written in pen on a piece of note paper or a larger one with many colours and stickers, I would always come home to find the note somewhere "special", and to hear stories from MTM about how she kept asking to have it read to her or how she brought it to bed at nap time.

One morning in the fall, I left a note for her. It was the first one since Buddy had been born. My phone rang shortly after their usual wakeup time.

"Daddy?"

"Yes Munchkin?"

"I got your note."

"Oh good! Did you like it?"

"Yes, but there's a big problem."

"What's that, sweetheart?"

"You forgot to write one for Buddy!"

The next morning, I made her a new, colourful note. Then I took the markers and drew Buddy a picture. She was pleased with my idea to give him a picture because he was just a baby.

Now, notes are a little more rare. Sometimes I write one to the two of them, and every once in a while I'll write one to her with a message for Buddy inside. But usually "note time" involves me, a couple of sheets of printer paper, and her marker bucket.

I don't mind, though. I remember when I was a kid that my father would write the scores of NHL playoff games (GO WINGS!) for me in pigeon/phonetic english on small pieces of paper, and how excited I was to receive them. I can only imagine how pleased they are with my notes telling them how much I love them, or how I'll miss them while I am at work (or reminding them to listen to their mother). I hope that they can hold on to some of these memories (and maybe one or two of the less "loved" notes) when they're older and we've inevitably drifted a bit more apart than we are today.

Here are some samples of my "work":

sometimes the notes are simple

sometimes they are fun

sometimes the pictures are creepy

sometimes the pictures are fun
Also, since she has started learning to print her lower case letters recently, my penmanship is now critiqued. You may be surprised to know that my lower-case "a" is not right: it should be a hoop and a little stick, but no tail. She gave me an example. And made me take it to work so I could practice my printing.

What do you think? Do you leave notes for your kids sometimes? How do they respond? I suspect most kids would be tickled pink to receive a note from their parents.

I have a review up of a handbook for new dads and dads to be called Pacify Me. It was an entertaining read, and I strongly suggest you check it out.

Stage Fright

talesfromthedadside@gmail.com (SciFi Dad) — Wed, 10 Jun 2009 10:15:00 +0000

You Are The Music In Me - High School Musical 2 Cast
MTM and I are both planners. Check that: we are planners, with a capital P. We like to know what is coming up as soon as is humanly possible (and that's only acceptable if inhumanly possible isn't an option). We look up schedules on the internet, we call to check for store hours, we talk about our upcoming weekend on Tuesday. We like to be prepared, and uncertainty is our kryptonite.

Although still at a young age, Munchkin has been showing a preference for preparedness too. (Incidentally - and totally the topic for another post - the question is whether this is nature or nurture. Did she inherit this from us via genetics, or did she learn it from our behaviours?)

On Sunday, Munchkin has her first ballet recital. They will perform a routine that they have been practicing since January (the song is today's soundtrack, FYI), every week, in front of a wall-to-wall mirror, with two student-teachers (i.e. older teenaged girls, not their ballet teacher) leading them (who will thankfully be up on stage with them Sunday). Since it would not occur to a four year old that watching yourself in the mirror will not be part of the actual show, and that the mirror would be replaced by a crowd of people (including her parents and family), and knowing that our daughter likes to know about things ahead of time, we thought it would be a good idea to inform her about the lack of a fourth wall.

It was not such a bright idea. Now we have a tiny ballerina (complete with a fuschia dance outfit that features a sequined cupcake, and no I am not exaggerating) with a not-so-tiny case of stage fright.

What? You thought I was making that bit about the outfit up?
Because she's ~~female~~ four, her opinion on the subject varies from "I don't want to go" to "I'm scared but I think I'll do it" to "It's going to be so fun ~~because Daddy is bribing me to do this~~". (I kid. MTM is firmly on the "no bribing" side of the line, which puts me on the "can't bribe" side of the line.) Mostly, she's nervous about the prospect, but that's because we haven't made any statements either way (in other words, neither "you don't have to do it if you don't want to ~~even if it means wasting the hundreds of dollars we poured into the outfit and tickets and classes~~" nor "you're doing it whether you like it or not ~~because we're not wasting the hundreds of dollars we poured into the outfit and tickets and classes~~").

For now, our approach seems to be avoid the subject and hope the problem goes away: a tried and true method all dysfunctional families (like mine) have used for decades. However, at some point (probably Sunday morning when we leave for the dress rehearsal, with my luck) the jig will be up and she will likely revert back to "I don't want to do it" mode.

The only plan I have so far is if she expresses fear before Sunday morning I can show her videos of my concerts (I used to be lead alto sax in my high school jazz band, so there's videos of me doing solos and the like) to let her see it's not all that bad. Other than that, I'm stumped.

Here's where you (and your infinite experience) come in. How have you handled stage fright or performance anxiety (aside: dad bloggers who read this site, I'm asking about your kid's anxiety; keep your bedroom stories in your bedroom) in the past? Do you have any suggestions for us?

I am still running that giveaway over at my review blog. Click over for your chance to win one of three sets of nine books selected for Dads and Grads.

Faith

talesfromthedadside@gmail.com (SciFi Dad) — Tue, 09 Jun 2009 10:15:00 +0000

Faith - George Michael
On Saturday, we went to a street festival where MTM grew up. If you asked her what she thought of when we mention this fesitval, she would list off stuff like the local vendors selling crafts and soaps and organic foodstuffs, seeing people from high school (or earlier), the parade, the bands playing in the street, or the canoe racing.

If you asked Munchkin or myself (this was Buddy's first time, so he had nothing to compare it to), we would give you one answer: the church. The church is where the big inflatable jumping castles are. The church is where the games that a preschooler can actually win are. The church is where we always end up because they have the best hot dogs and burgers, and largest selection of tables in the shade.

It is also the place MTM and I got married in nearly six years ago, and the time we spend on its lawn every year is the closest I get to a place of worship every 365 days.

Some readers may be surprised to learn that I was raised in a very religious home. I was baptized Roman Catholic, and went to Catholic school from the age of five to shortly after my nineteenth birthday (incidentally, at that time Ontario had five years of high school, so I wasn't just a dumbass). I went to mass at least once a week, and often several times (if for no other reason than a deal I made with the custodian: he let me into the music room to practice at 7.00am every day, and Friday I had to go to early mass at 8.00am). I was active in our parish, as both a member of the youth group and a reader.

Then one day I started asking questions, got told I should not ask questions, and stopped going to church. I went through the typical nihilism, then atheism, then realized that (to me) atheists were as blindly devoted as the religions they cast aside, and settled on being an agnostic. I think it is possible that there is a supreme deity; I just find it highly unlikely.

Every year, sitting under the shady trees on the church lawn as I enjoy some lunch and a cold drink, I think about going back to church. I think about it more for my wife than for me, because I know she has never lost her faith, and she wishes I still had mine. I think that if I could tell her I believed again, she would baptize the kids and we would go to church occasionally (certainly not every week; we're just not that kind of people).

This year I found myself particularly drawn to it, although I cannot say why. It's possible that Munchkin's enthusiasm to see the place we got married played a part, as did the realization (as I watched Buddy sleep in his stroller under a big tree while MTM and Munchkin played in the "fair") that I had a debt to this place because it's where our family started. (OK, that is an arguable point: did MTM and I need to be married to become a family? I don't know the answer, but I know that for us, the day we became husband and wife is the day we started our own little family.)

It's also possible that I've been feeling particularly anxious these past few months, mainly because of the uncertainty in the economy as our family grows out of our little home that MTM and I chose so long ago, and that I miss the solace prayer brought me. Logically, talking to a being that I could not see, couldn't really "feel" (no matter how many times I tried to convince myself I did), should not make things seem better as one is just talking to oneself, but I remember that it did.

I'm torn: I don't believe anything differently than I have for years (in other words, still an agnostic), yet I feel compelled to go to a church. I feel like it's wrong for someone like me, someone without faith, to go into a church. I cannot really explain it.

I realize this is a personal subject, but if anyone feels like they want to share their experiences or even just their thoughts on the subject of faith (losing it, regaining it, whatever), I would appreciate it.