While Mom-E is Out

Welcome to a "Wordless Wednesday" post (okay, well, maybe just a few words of explanation).

Here's what you get while Mom-E is out of the house doing "boring girl stuff" and the boys (Dad-E and Big Brother) go wild with Thomas the Train track, Legos, and about 90 minutes of uninterrupted engineering time while Little Brother naps.


And yes, on its own the train can actually complete the loop from the floor up to the ottoman, across the bridge to the coffee table, across another bridge to the couch, down the waterfall, and back again.

See you on Fatherhood Friday,
Busy-Dad-E

P.S. Bab-E Brother says he'd rather play with trains than tag along for "boring girl stuff", unfortunately he has no choice in the matter.

Bertha

I have a confession...

Today's post will have nothing to do with fatherhood or children.

I have another confession that I need to rant about...(hey, after all it is my blog).

We have a cockroach that lives in our garage.

Her name is Bertha. (I've dubbed her said name.)

Bertha is a large cockroach.

Sometimes I think she's the leader of a new race of genetically engineered roaches whose aim is no less than to take over the world.


Or at least just annoy the ever livin' dickens out of me.

You see, Bertha only comes out at night.

I think she knows when it's time for me to go into the garage at night to take out the trash, or put something away, etc.

And she just stands there in plain sight, taunting me, as if she's saying, "You can't catch me Dad-E."

And she knows I can't (YET!). She's way smarter than regular bugs.

She runs too fast. Apparently she has been training.


Even if I come after her with a long object (e.g. golf club), she scatters before I have a chance to attack, usually under the car. (And when I look under the car, she's gone.)

I mean, most bugs just sit there waiting for you to smash them. Not Bertha. She has stealth powers.

Once I had her in plain sight on the side of the garage, and she was able to dart in and out of tricycles and baseball tees and the like to evade me, though I came within millimeters of squashing her with a tire.

Now you're probably thinking, why not just put out some bait (or a trap or fumigate the garage or something).

No way. This is a game of intellectual chess (albeit my opponent is a roach).

I will settle for no less than squashing her with (an object projecting outward from) my own hand. Only that will truly be satisfying. I envision that it will look something like this:


It's like Spy vs Spy.

Game on.

Just you wait, Bertha. Your time will come.

Okay, I need to go take my medicine now.

Have a good week,
Busy-Dad-E

**ADDENDUM**

I actually wrote this post last week.

Less than 24 hours after writing it, Mom-E, who is usually terrified of spiders the size of your pinky nail, called to inform me that she had killed Bertha with the shoe she was wearing!?! Apparently, a side effect of pregnancy is decreased fear of bugs.

Mom-E did have a slight advantage in that my car was out of the garage.

Apparently drunk from a night of partying with her roach cronies, Bertha was hanging out where my car should have been, leaving her exposed and in plain sight.

Mom-E was apparently able to make quick work of Bertha using her jungle cat-like reflexes. (I must admit to wishing that I had video of pregnant Mom-E running around the garage stomping a roach with her foot.)

Unfortunately, she did not take any pictures of the carnage.

However, let this serve as a warning to you, you genetically engineered roaches, if any of Bertha's kin or followers sets foot in our garage, your fate will be the same as Bertha's!

Let this also serve as a lesson that if you're going to hunt down a female genetically engineered roach, you best hire a female assassin. I bow to the superior sex.

You could also say "never get a man to do a woman's job."

Problem is that according to Raymond, the only reasons Mom-E keeps me around are:
1. Kill bugs
2. Open jars

Honey, you got any jars for me to open?

Labor Day Weekend: A Festival of Fevers, Popsicles, and "Vacation"

Happy Fatherhood Friday everyone!

Although H1N1 is not transmissible over the net, a good way to bolster your immune system is to check out all of the great bloggers over at Dad-blogs.com.

So, we, uh, had an interesting Labor Day weekend.

Our original plans were to drive several hundred miles to my boyhood home to visit with my Dad-E and my grandparents (who are both in their UPPER-90's, and doing pretty well given their age).

And then the weekend before, Big Brother had a fever spike to 104. He was never swabbed with H1N1, but the pediatrician said they'd been seeing a lot of (relatively mild) flu, and that flu of some kind was the presumptive diagnosis.

And then the night before we were to leave, Mom-E started to feel sick. The next day, she had fever to 101.4 (which is always a little scary when you're 20-some weeks pregnant). I mean, it's not like you can just turn a fan on in there to cool off Bab-E. Although maybe he'll like hot tubs when he grows up? Can we bill him retroactively for a "spa" treatment in utero?

Of course, nix went our roadtrip. No reason for a sick, pregnant lady to travel by car feeling that miserable, nor reason to expose two nonagenerians to (presumed) flu.

I had her see the doctor about 5 minutes later. No H1N1 swab for her either, but they put her on Tamiflu as a precaution. Her fever went away pretty quickly.

And was promptly replaced with a throbbing sinus headache and congestion. Stop Tamiflu. Start Z-pack.

Mom-E, who normally explodes if she sits down for 5 minutes, pretty much spent 4 days in bed or on the couch in the family room.

I managed to put as many miles on the car going to and from the pharmacy as we would have if we made the trip.

Does anyone need some more Tylenol Multisymptom? If so, I can pick up more on lap 95.

Pitt stop coming up on lap 86 for more soup, ginger ale, and popsicles.

Yes, POPSICLES GLORIOUS POPSICLES!

I haven't had popsicles in years. And now I'm a major stockholder in Popsicle brand.

I forgot how much fun popsicles are for kids and adult kids alike.

Sooth your throat, sneak in some extra fluids, color your tongue, DON'T EAT IT OVER THE RUG, it's all good popsicles.

I found out I can get my kids to do pretty much anything with a popsicle as a reward.

And the popsicles are so technologically advanced now.

We enjoyed Ice Age "slow melt" popsicles. They really are slow melt. Rising 2 year-old approved. Though beware the slightly awkward gummy acorn at the top.


And the absolute best: Super Hero popsicles for your budding Iron Man, Spider Man, or Incredible Hulk.


And just as Mom-E started to turn the corner, of course Little Brother spikes a fever to 101 on Sunday. Poor guy was spewing more snot than an offshore oil rig.

I had taken Friday off as a vacation day, plus the long weekend, plus I took Tuesday off since Little Brother was still under the weather. Amazingly, I have been spared from illness thus far.

And while I could skulk and complain that I spent my mini-vacation taking care of a house full of sickos (all the while trying to keep it clean since we're on the market), I decided to make the best of it.

And prove that men can multitask (to a limited extent).

I earned some husband points from Mom-E for my attentiveness and "bedside manner" (aka frequent refills of ginger ale, water, gaterade, crackers, tylenol, and pleas of "boys Mom-E feels yuck-E and needs to rest.")

I didn't shave for some 5 days (which hasn't happened since college) in order to render myself unkissable by Mom-E and thus less likely to get sick.

During an extended nap for Mom-E and Little Brother, I took Big Brother out on a "date" to a movie and a couple of movie-side video games.

Little Brother was extra clingy, and I enjoyed carrying him around pretty much everywhere, night and day.

Except that time my bicep fell off.

And while I was disappointed about missing the trip to see family (which we'll try to reschedule soon), it was still strangely nice just to have some time off to spend with the boys and Mom-E.

No doubt we'll always remember the Labor Day weekend when everyone was sick.

Have a good and HEALTHY weekend,
Busy-Dad-E

Call Off the Boys

Sometimes when Big Brother rips toys out of Little Brother's clutches picks on Little Brother, I make the subtle suggestion that, "someday Little Brother might be bigger than you, and if that happens, he's going to remember all the times you took toys away from him."

Well, apparently both boys have remembered previously repressed memories of being smaller than Pupp-E, and all of the times Pupp-E has snatched food out of their hands, or grabbed one of their toys, run off with it, and attempted to chew it under the table.

And now it's time for their "revenge."

The boys' new favorite pastime is to form a hunting party (of 2), and chase Pupp-E ALL OVER THE HOUSE, wherever he may be.

Armed with only Mom-E's hairbrushes in one arm and dragging their blankies in the other, they set off on a mission to terrorize that poor, little dog.

(They look like a cross between and Muppet Babies and Don Quixote.)

And by terroize I mean run through the house kackling loudly and attempting to "lasso" Pupp-E by throwing their blankies over him. And occasionally combing his hair with Mom-E's hairbrush. Sorry, Mom-E.

"Hey Little Brother, let's go get Pupp-E," I hear Big Brother whisper.

And, like the zombies in the Mumm-E movie shouting "Im-ho-tep", Little Brother is in complete kahootz with Big Brother.

And they're off.

They're undeterred in their quest for vengence.

And by undettered, I mean Little Brother is sick with a fever to 101, and is still frolicking around the house trying to "get" Pupp-E.

And if Pupp-E goes outside because Dad-E "accidentally" opens the door, the mob boys want to follow him into the yard.

And if Pupp-E retreats to Mom-E and Dad-E's bed, where Mom-E lies with a fever of 101and throbbing sinus headache, the boys try to climb into bed like Orks at the Battle For Helms Deep. (More details on that on Friday.)

For now, I better go call off the boys rescue the dog.

See you on Fatherhood Friday,
Busy-Dad-E

Big Brother Explains Special Handshakes

Happy Labor Day!

Since I don't feel like working much today, I've decided to let Big Brother shoulder some of the workload.

It's been awhile since we've done a "Big Brother Explains" post, where he gives us his own unique how-to.

Actually, this is something we came up with together. A long time ago, I thought it would be cool if the boys and I had our own special handshake, and he agreed.

With that, take it away Big Brother.

*****

Here's our special handshake. It's called "Thumbs up, Shake it up, Pop".

1) First, you give each other a thumbs up.

2) Next, you shake the thumbs up--up and down--like you're shaking up a soda can.

3) Last, you bump fists, while holding the thumbs up position.

Don't forget to say the words with each step: Thumbs up, Shake it up, Pop.

It always gives us a smile and a chuckle.

Do you have a special handshake or greeting with your children?

Have a good week,
Busy-Dad-E

Moving Men

Happy Fatherhood Friday everyone!

Thanks to Dad-blogs.com for helping dad bloggers to take over the blogosphere one week at a time.

I think that we, as dad bloggers, need to make our own tv show.

Perhaps it’s because we’re trying to sell our house right now, but I think all of those “This Old House”, “Extreme Home Makeover”, and home improvement-type shows have it all wrong.

They claim to be “Reality TV”. When it comes to home improvement/moving with young families, they’re pretty far from reality.

I think we should make a home repair-type show, but it has to be done WITH KIDS “HELPING”. To show home repair/moving as it really is.

Take the other day for example. We’re trying to get the house ready to go on the market, and at a fairly frenetic pace. The weekends are our best time to get stuff done. Of course we have plenty of “help.” All of the following occurs within the same 24-hour period:

-Big Brother insists on making the entire Island of Sodor with his Thomas track no less than 5 times a day, and it must cover at least the entire space of the living room. Niche marketing ploy on our part. "Yes, the house comes with the train track."

-Little Brother enjoys helping Mom-E “clean” windows. Usually to the tune of autographing newly cleaned windows with his “high-five” handprints. C’mon, you know they needed cleaning twice anyway.

-Little Brother continues to help Mom-E “clean” windows. In a moment of boredom (the window in his bathroom starts at about twice his height), Little Brother opts to swish his hands around in a (not clean) toilet bowl. Slow down Little Brother. We’ll get you a brush.

-Attempts to touch-up trim paint turn into a game of, “Keep Little Brother’s Hand Out of The Paint.”
Only one player is allowed to laugh during the game, and that player must be under 36 inches tall.

-Big Brother proceeds to spike a fever to 104F, complete with puking, 36 hours before the house officially goes on the market. We’re convinced he has swine flu.

-Big Brother’s fever disappears within the first two doses of Tylenol, and he is darn near back to himself, arguing against influenza.

-Little Brother adamantly REFUSES to go down for a nap. Probably because the carpet in his room has just been cleaned, and almost all of his furniture is out of the room, thereby completely disrupting his routine. He proceeds to scream in protest to the point of making himself puke at least 3 times, requiring a bath, and coming within millimeters of having to re-do the carpet in his room.

-Big Brother is doing well such that he goes grocery shopping with Dad-E. We decide to go shopping at the literal point the monsoon decides to hit. Despite an umbrella and a relatively short walk into the store, our shirts are so wet that we had to go to the bathroom to wring them out. Unfortunately you can’t wring water out of shoes. I’m convinced the wet clothes plus the subzero temps in the store will bring his fever right back.

-Little Brother’s grows tired of the “Paint” game, and switches over to a games of “Walk With a Melting Purple Popsicle Over Newly Cleaned Carpet” and “Who Can Spit Chocolate Juice Closest to the Newly Cleaned Carpet Without Actually Hitting It.”

Now that’s what I call a reality show. You get a prize just for completing a given task.

Anyone can paint a room. But can you paint with a 4 year-old pulling on your arm, protesting, "Dad-E we need to make a track", while simultaneously preventing a 2 year-old from diving head-first into the paint can. Now that takes skills.

C’mon, as long as you’re not the one doing the repairs, you know you’d watch it.

Have a good weekend,
Busy-Dad-E

Old 100th

We’ll, Blogger has just informed me that I’ve hit a milestone here at Busy-Dad-E: my 100th post!

I started blogging 8 months ago, and I must say that I’ve enjoyed the experience more than I could’ve anticipated.

My goal was to create an online journal to capture the thoughts, ideas, and emotions of fatherhood with a young family.

Early on, I made a decision to make my blog public, rather than inviting just family and friends, in the hopes of connecting with other dad (and mom) bloggers, who could relate to the joyful chaos that is our house. I’ve been more than delighted with the result.

As I searched out ways to connect with other bloggers, I was fortunate to come across www.dad-blogs.com. I really enjoy this site, particularly Fatherhood Fridays. I’m thankful for the publicity for my blog, the great articles, and most importantly the wonderful people with whom I’ve met online and communicated.

I’m honored that so many of you have regularly come to my blog to read of our goings on, and I’m privileged to have had the opportunity to share in yours.

I was also lucky to pick up an endorsement of sorts from the British website, www.think-fathers.org, which has been an exciting source of traffic to my blog from across the pond.

I also found the interesting website www.condron.us (which apparently has been renamed www.blogsurfer.us), which has also brought some traffic my way.

I also tweet some from twitter.com/BusyDadE. Thanks goes out to my followers there.

Of course, I greatly appreciate those of you who have me on your blogroll.

At the risk of neglecting to mention someone, let me give a personal thanks to the following folks:
Gramm-E
Aunt-E
Laura
Aunt Karen
Rosi
Weasel Momma
Surprised Mom
Shank Rabbit
Mocha Dad
Melisa with One S
JonnyTam13
Jason
Isabella
Fezzic
Bella Daddy
Otter Thomas
Super Mega Dad
Ciara

Thanks to those of you who read the blog without commenting (I know who you are :)

And of course, BIG BIG BIG thanks to Mom-E for your love, support, and encouragement (not to mention that little part about carrying and giving birth and breast-feeding, etc, etc, to Big Brother, Little Brother, and soon-to-be Bab-E Brother). You’re my love and my best friend, and I wouldn’t want anyone else next to me on this roller coaster.

Last but certainly not least, thanks to Big Brother and Little Brother, for all of the joy and pride and laughter (and occasional headaches and worry and frustration) that you bring to our family. You make me truly happy. Not to be left out, we love you Bab-E Brother. We love you and you’re already beginning to control us even before you make your official entrance.

In short, thanks to everyone. It’s been a blast!

See you on Fatherhood Friday,
Busy-Dad-E