Christmas in June

Happy Fatherhood Friday everyone!

Be sure to check out all of the great dad (and mom) bloggers over at dadexchange.com - it'll be like and early Christmas present.

Speaking of which, it may be summer, but Big Brother and Little Brother are already getting in the Christmas spirit.

Although I've written about it before, I don't understand why they call it "Christmas in July". It really should be "Christmas in June", because June is 6 months away from December.

But I digress.

I blame Cars 2 for the fact that the boys are already starting a Christmas list, since they're planning to rename Target, "Cars 2".

(Mater is really funny, but I left the theater feeling like the movie could've earned a PG rating for violence, and that the whole point of the film was MERCHANDISING - let's introduce a buncha new characters that the kids will insist they need.)

"Dad-E, can I have the $50 Fizzle McMizzle with all the shoot things."

"Uh, no."

Little Brother has provided some photographic entertainment to inspire that (early) holiday spirit.

The other day, he fell asleep on the couch in FLANNEL CHRISTMAS JAMMIES.


I'm surprised (and thankful) he didn't melt.

But don't be alarmed, he followed this up the next day by falling asleep on the floor wearing swimming trucks (he insisted he was too hot in his clothes.


Man does it take some mad skillz to fall asleep with your head wrapped around a chair leg.

Have a good weekend,
Merry (Half-way to) Christmas,
Busy-Dad-E

R.I.P. Cell Phone

Dear Boys,

This week marks the end of an era.

My cell phone died this week. (Snapped in half after being dropped is more accurate.)

Don't be sad and lose heart.

Instead, we celebrate the life of said phone, which was perhaps the most persistent, never-say-die phone I've ever had.

Yes, this phone had more lives than a cat.

First of all, it survived multiple "drops". And by "drops", I mean not only the times I accidentally dropped it, but the times you snatched it from me and then threw it (hard) on the floor while I chased after you.

Fortunately, this particular phone did not have to endure a trip down the interstate on the trunk deck of my car.

The phone was an LG enV2, which flips open like a book to expose the keypad. Eventually, the drops resulted in the phone beginning to pull apart at the hinge.

Believing that most everything can be fixed with tape or superglue (Mom-E loves to poke fun at me about this), I opted to fix the hinge with black electrical tape.

This, of course, was a temporary fix, meaning that about once a week I'd have to "retape" my phone.

But hey, if it still works and saves you $50 on a replacement...

Anyway, last but not least, I'll admit that the phone survived two deep-sea-diving escapades in the toilet. One of them in standing water, and one in flushing water. Both with baths in Lysol.

And the phone lived to keep making calls. Seriously. I tried both the "dry it out with a hairdryer" and the "put it in a jar of rice" methods.

Both worked! Score!

But alas, the day before a scheduled retaping, I dropped the phone again. This time it ended up in two non-super-glueable pieces.

This meant a trip to the Verizon store. And you already know how much we love the Verizon store.

This time, however, I was too tired to care I embraced the challenge and leak in my wallet that I knew was coming.

And when we were the 12th (yes twelfth) person in line, 45 minute before your bedtime, I said "BRING IT ON."

Oh, and you boys did bring it.

You wore grooves in the floor running around.

You surfed the web and played apps on an iPad.

And Bab-E Brother did headfirst slides through display stands like he was in training for an obstacle course race.

And the noise. Oh the noise, noise, noise, noise.

(I thought for sure they'd bump us up in line to get us out more quickly, but they didn’t)

And to the other people in the store, I hope you enjoyed the show.

I did. I had fun. It’s who we are. You gotta be comfy in your own skin.

I enjoyed spending time with you. I loved your laughter and excitement. I loved all of the hugs I received while we were there.

And so boys, I want you to take the following things from our experience:
1) Persistence and constancy of purpose are the secrets to success, as evidenced by my phone.
2) You can fix ANYTHING, albeit temporarily, with glue and/or tape.
3) The fun is in enjoying each others’ company during the mundane errands and tasks of life.
4) When I’m a grandfather, I’m coming with you and your children to the phone store. I’m going to sit down, not help at all, and just watch the show and laugh. ☺

And in case you were wondering, Mom-E has forbade me to bring my new phone in the bathroom.

See you on Fatherhood Friday,
Love you, boys,
Busy-Dad-E

Spike That Fever Punch

Dear Little Brother,

Mom-E and I have a confession.

For much of the past week, you've had a very mild virus.

It hasn't slowed you down too much, but occasionally you've had a fever, which means you're moving just slow enough that we can catch up to you to try and put your pants back on.

But one thing's for sure, you decided that you did NOT need any medicine for said virus.

Even when we told you that your pediatrician (to whom you seem to really look up to) said that you should take some medicine, you refused.

However, Mom-E and I decided you'd be more comfortable with some Tylenol on board.

So for the past week, we've been giving you Crystal Light (which you would drink by the gallon if given unrestricted access), spiked with Tylenol as needed.

And unbeknowst to you, you've done an excellent job taking your medicine...with enthusiasm.

And it's worked, albeit Tylenol + nap = fever breaks and pillow gets a little damp and you wake up mad about that.

Mom-E and I are sorry that we had to be sneaky with you, but sometimes you can be a little bull-headed.

And so can we.

We're glad that you're feeling better, and once again running laps around us.

And we love you (no deception there)
Busy-Dad-E

Yellow River Road Trip

Happy Fatherhood Friday everyone!

How glad am I that dadexchange.com, formerly dad-blogs.com is back?

So glad that, in fact, I think I wet my pants.

Which, if you could tell from the post title, was the theme from our recent mini-vacation.

Recently, Aunt-E celebrated a milestone birthday (25 again), and so Mom-E's entire family headed off for a long weekend vacation stressing the word long over vacation.

Our destination was about 240 miles away from home, and the trip there was...well...er...eventful.

So eventful that I'm contemplating added a semi-automatic feature to my Benadryl Dart-Gun (patent pending).

In the words of Mitch Hedberg, I just want to clarify that last joke by saying, "I'm just joking. That's right, fully, not semi-automatic"

We left about 9:30 in the morning.

Given that our mini-van would play host to several Board members of the "Small Bladder Club", I advised the Board to recite their pledge in front of the potty before we departed.

First stop was 5 minutes later at CVS for diapers for Bab-E Brother (admittedly a planned stop).

Second stop was 10 minutes later at the "Pupp-E Spa" to drop off Pupp-E (also planned).

Thereafter, it was time to motor towards our destination.

We managed to motor about 20 minutes before the Board called an emergency meeting.

"Dad-E, I have to pee."

Wanting to keep the Board meeting on land and not pee sea, we pulled off at the next exit.

Nature being chock-full-o the irony at the start of the weekend, the first place to go pee was McDonald's.

I pull in, knowing the scenario that's about to unfold.

It's 10:40 in the morning. Being so excited about the trip, the boys have primed bladders and tummies filled with only about 2 bites of cereal and 3 swigs of milk. Translation: they no sooner pee than they decide they're ready for lunch.

So while I bang my forehead against the steering column entertain Bab-E Brother, Mom-E plays assistant to the Board and gets them Happy Meals.

Meanwhile (it's now about 11:00 am), I start doing some calculations, nerd that I am.

We've been on the road 1.5 hours and travelled a "grand" total of 30 measly miles. That's 1/8th of the total trip distance, meaning what should be a 4 hour trip is on pace to be a 12 hour "just shoot me" affair.

Now peed out and fueled up, the Board votes to adjourn, and we head back on the road.

We make it LITERALLY ANOTHER 8 MILES UP THE ROAD and the Board calls ANOTHER meeting. Apparently the senior Board member wants to re-review the data presented at the last meeting.

Again, we pull off at the nearest exit, but this time there's absolutely nothing in sight.

So we pull off onto a dirt road and the Board remember reviews the data amidst the bushes and broken bottles.

But at least he was serious about "reviewing the data". He didn't just skim through it. He really had to review in detail. Amazingly. Apparently his kidneys are REALLY, REALLY efficient.

And then by the grace of God, one board member falls asleep, another junior member also falls asleep, and the senior Board member becomes engrossed with Bakugan, Transformers, and whatever else is in his briefcase.

So we make it about 90 more minutes before the administrative assistants decide we need lunch, too.

We stopped at the weirdest combination gas station-Subway-Taco Bell that you ever did see.

We try desperately to persuade the Board to have another meeting due to the convenient time, but they're adamant to the point of screaming that another meeting is unnecessary.

Mom-E and I start to dive into our lunch.

We DON'T EVEN MAKE IT BACK TO THE INTERSTATE before both Board members decide they do, in fact, want to have another meeting.

This time the administrative assistants step in and inform the Board that they're going to have to wait a few darn minutes to prep the meeting room (just a cover to load our Benadryl dart guns).

Seriously, we go about another 10 minutes before pulling into YET ANOTHER MCDONALD'S.

The Board again calls a recess, and we manage to limp our way to the destination (in about 6 hours total), without springing any additional leaks.

**
One of Big Brother's friend's mom recently emailed Mom-E o say they had a nice time on their recent vacation. They're kids had a great time, and the next time they go on vacation, it will be PARENTS ONLY.

Well said. Well said.

They usually say you need a vacation from your vacation when you get back.

After the trip there, I think we needed a vacation before we even STARTED our vacation.

Have a good weekend,
Busy-Dad-E

P.S. The vacation really was quite nice, and fortunately for us, the trip home was much less eventful.

Liquid Toy Box

As I've alluded to this post recently, twice, in fact, it's time for this post to flow.

Literally.

There are a few phrases when uttered by a 3 year-old that can only spell ginormous mess to clean up trouble.

One of them is, "Mom-E, I went pee-pee in my toy box."

"Como se WHAT?!?!?"

So the other day, Mom-E arranged a play date with Mrs. Kid-Nee and their 3 girls. You may remember that their oldest might be Big Brother's betrothed.

You may also remember that Little Brother has a penchant for de-pantsing himself, whether it be in public, or in the comforts of his own bedroom.

(I assure you, we're trying really hard to get him to keep his pants on when we have company, but sometimes it's an uphill battle.)

So Mom-E and Mrs. Kid-Nee were chatting when, very matter-of-factly, Little Brother approached them to casually announce his donation to his toybox.

Fortunately for Little Brother, the presence of guests helped him be the beneficiary of a much more muted frustration response from Mom-E (i.e., he lived, j/k).

Even worse was that Little brother had one of Kid-Nee's daughters open the toy box for him so he could do his business.

Even even worse was that the toy box is not perfectly sealed, such that it started to create a yellow ring around the perimeter.

And, to boot, when asked why he peed in his toy box, he replied, "I went into the bathroom, but I couldn't find the potty."

"Yeah right."

You mean you've lived in this house for 15 months, used that potty 1,000 times, and suddenly it just disappeared? The largest and most porcelain item in the bathroom?

Apparently we have a budding politician.

On the bright yellow side, we were able to thin out the contents of the toy box via File 13, and what was left got a nice bath in Lysol.

And apparently I should've revised my Commandments 11-15 for boys to lead off with "Thou shalt only pee in the potty, and nowhere else!"

Have a good week,
Wash your hands after you put them in the toy box,
Busy-Dad-E

Happy Fozrs Day

Hello there.

I'm late (but not pregnant).

And I also owe you a post about Little Brother peeing in his toybox.

And we just got back from an extended weekend vacation, so plenty of new blog material (the trip there is it's own post).

But for now, a belated "Happy Fozrs Day" to all my fellow fozrs out there.


And thanks to Big Brother for this impromptu card that you made for me. It's precious. And it makes up for the tantrum you threw yesterday when we had to abandon our miniature golf game early because Little Brother was utterly exhausted to the point of screaming that he didn't want to play anymore (after begging to play).

Special.

But zuch are zee challenges of fozrhood.

Have a good week,
Busy-Dad-E, Fozr of 3 Boyz

Fatherhood Cartoon

I agree that they're cute, except when they pee in their (full) toy box.

More on that story on Friday.

In the meantime, I'm going to go blow up Alderaan.

See you on Fatherhood Friday,
Busy-Dad-E

Ft. Fort

Ft. Fort

So the other Friday, as I was driving to work, I stumbled upon an idea.

After Bab-E Brother goes to bed, we can make a fort in our playroom, and Big Brother, Little Brother, Mom-E and I can play games and eat popcorn and read stories.

(We weren’t trying to exclude Bab-E Brother, it’s just that his attention span for that kinda thing is on the order of milliseconds, rather than minutes, and no doubt he’d make it his personal mission to bring down the fort.)

Mom-E liked the idea, and we agree that it’d be best not to tell the boys in advance, unless Mom-E wanted to be asked 10,000 times “Can we build the fort now?”

So after bath time, I sprung the idea, to which the boys took with great excitement and anticipation.

(We were still asked “Can we build the fort now?” no less than 100 times.)

With the “help” of small men, we rearranged furniture, pulled apart couch cushions, and assembled a make-shift roof out of blankets.

The boys took to the fort – which was the size of a breadbox and as hot as a toaster – as if it were made of melted chocolate.

We munched on popcorn and read stories by flashlight, and despite the intention of playing some games, the boys decided they were ready to sleep in their indoor campground.

In contrast to the usual routine of chaos and verbal protests, the boys fell asleep quite easily, packed like a pair of sardines.

“What a great idea!” Mom-E and I patted ourselves on the back.

We even had the foresight to line the floor of the tent with an absorbent pad, just in case the boys’ excitement continued in their sleep.

And what a peaceful night it was.

Until about 2:30 am.

Suddenly one child awoke SCREAMING (still not sure if due to hunger, nightmare, or confusion about current whereabouts).

This awakened the other child, who had an accident that autographed both the pad as well as a small patch of carpet.

That child started screaming at his brother (for screaming).

This, in turn, awakened Bab-E Brother, who turned the screaming duet into a screaming trio.

In an instant, our peaceful scene was erased and turned into three screaming boys, a pair of wet jammies, and a leak on the floor of the tent, all at 2:30 am.

Pardon my French, but at that moment Mom-E and I concurred that “Forts $uck!”

It didn’t take that long to get everyone calmed down, changed, and back to sleep (after spot-treating the carpet).

Amazingly, the next day, the boys both adamantly asked “Can we sleep in the fort again?”

Unamazingly, Mom-E and I both retorted, “No!”

And thus endeth the Fort.

From all of us at Fort Busy-Dad-E, have a good week,
Busy-Dad-E

Food Thrower

Happy Fatherhood Friday everyone!

With our first two boys, we've encountered of different things, behavior-wise: picky eaters, bed jumpers, nap refusers, diaper blowout-ers, tantrum throwers, bad potty aimers, forgetful flushers, table colorers, booger picker-eaters,..., and of course two wonderful fun-loving little guys.

But with Bab-E Brother, we're up against something completely new: food thrower.

Sure, Big Brother and Little Brother would occasionally throw something, but for Bab-E Brother, it's apparently a sport and he's aiming for a gold medal.

I mean the boy loves to throw his food...

...more than he loves to eat it, methinks.

(This makes Pupp-E very happy, to the point he's been banished from the dinner table.)

I know Bab-E Brother must get some nutrition because he is growing.

But apparently he osmotically sucks the nutrients out of the food when he throws it.

Within 30 seconds of wrestling him into his booster seat sitting down, it's milk overboard, and the rest of the plate is soon to follow.

So we've largely resorted to taking his plate away when that happens. "Hey, you had your chance."

Eventually he'll figure it out.

Fotunately we're sometimes successful if we feed him small bites with a fork from his own plate.

Although his other favorite trick is to take one bite of something and then jam the rest into YOUR mouth, with a great big smile.

Anyone else out there battled with food flingers?

Have a good weekend duck,
Busy-Dad-E

Summer Attire

Hello There!

So now that school's out, summer's in full swing around here.

And Little Brother is definitely on board.

These days, he pretty much has one outfit: Swimming Trunks (or Fimming Funks as he calls them. You know, you put on Sum Scream when you wear them).

And nothing else. No shirt. No shoes. No service And no need for underwear, which you probably know by now is totally cool with him.

While this works well on the days we actually plan to go to the pool, at other times it's rather...well...inconvenient.

Last time I checked, shirtless and swimming trucks won't quite cut it for vacation bible school.

Even nap time is not immune. He insists on continuing to wear his swimming trunks, stating "they're more comfortable".

Yes, if by comfortable, you mean it's easy to insist be ready to go to the pool when you wake up from your nap.

At least he's cutting down on his share of the laundry.

So here's to Little Brother, and his wonderful fashion sense.

Happy summer!

See you on Fatherhood Friday,
Busy-Dad-E

Nightly Routine

Hello there. I'm still here, albeit swamped at work and swamped with kids.

*****

When you think of night-time routines for children, does that conjure up images of cuddling up in the rocking chair, reading a bedtime story, and your child slowly drifting asleep in your arms as you rock them gently?

Maybe it was like that at first with Big Brother, but NOT ANYMORE!

No, around here, it's like herding cattle to get 3 boys into the tub; one of them always goes astray, screaming in protest, and someone is usually running around frantically (and naked), trying to find a favorite toy. Then when they're in the tub, there's usually splashing at tidal-wave levels.

And trying to get ahold of a child to wash them is like trying to catch grease-lightning.

We'd probably have better luck filling up a Super-Soaker with bubble bath, and just shooting in the direction of the tub. After emptying about three clips, everyone will be mostly clean.

And then you can use another water-only Super-Soaker for rinsing.

Fortunately, when everyone's out of the tub, they tend to get jammied-up pretty quick owing to being cold.

And then comes the brushing of the teeth. Big Brother and Little Brother have finally said "uncle" when it comes to this (and Little Brother will actually use non-trainer toothpaste--that was a battle of it's own), and are cooperative.

But not Bab-E Brother. It's like hog-tying cattle trying to brush the few chompers that he has.

You pretty much have to restrain all 4 limbs (I prefer a Figure-Four leg lock), and he excersizes his lungs while you brush.

And he's not a huge fan of bedtime stories. Sometimes he'll sit for 30 seconds and let you read to him (if the book has something fuzzy for him to pet).

If not, he usually throws the book (more on his throwing obsession later this week), and is off and running like a toot-in-a-skillet.

And when it comes to the rocking chair, he has absolutely no interest.

Instead, Bab-E Brother insists on going to our room for more pre-sleep play time. (Meanwhile his older brothers are usually running amok).

He "winds-down" by:
1) Jumping on the bed, to the tune of our Jump Song

2) Doing "Trust Falls" onto our bed (he starts in a standing position on the bed and then we let him fall backwards). He's even starting to try to say "Fall".

3) Smacking Mom-E or I with a decorative bed pillow, after which we pretend to fall over like a boxer who just took a sucker-punch.

All of this meets with roars of laughter that you just want to bottle-up and store.

Only after 1-3) above will he agree to be cradled, after which we dance with him to "Party Music" from the TV.

Within 5 minutes, he's calm with heavy eyelids, and makes no fuss when you put him in his crib.

Strange as it sounds (you'd think it'd hype him up like mad), this is the routine that works for him.

What do your nightly routines look like?

Have a good week,
Busy-Dad-E