Open House of Solitude

So our house has been on the market for a little while now. After a decent first month, we haven't had any traffic in about 6 weeks.

Our realtor decided "it's time for a (magic) Open House."

We picked a date in November, working around birthday parties, Thanksgiving, and a mini-vacation, but knowing that there was really no ideal time to have this thing.

First of all, Open Houses are not family-friendly. They're held in the afternoon, right in the middle of NAP TIME.

So the options are:
1. Drive around for about 2 hours in the hopes that small children will fall asleep.
2. Go do something fun, knowing that small children will be completely giddy, hyperactive and delirious due to nap-deprivation.

I had to put in beaucoup hours at work the week before the Open House.

Mom-E is beaucoup pregnant and therefore fatigue is a factor (even though she'd prefer to go full-tilt).

The boys are beaucoup good and making messes (even though they try to help clean up and put away, you can't ask them to lick the Cinnamon Toast Crunch residue off the kitchen floor).

But still, we persevered, and the house was pretty much spotless come Sunday afternoon.

And by persevered, I mean that Mom-E made a detailed schedule of what tasks would get done when, such as:

1. Dad-E stands on a ladder scrubbing dirt/mildew off the gutters with 409 at midnight on a night of his choosing, while Mom-E is scrubbing Cinnamon Toast Crunch residue off the kitchen floor.

2. We both stay up until after 1am the morning of the Open House, only to have both boys wake up before 7am to ensure timely completion of the remainder our to-do list.

3. I'm blowing leaves off the deck, while wearing church clothes and holding a 2 year-old, less than 90 minutes before it's time to leave. Mom-E uses both free arms (which when compared to carrying around small children makes you feel like you have about 6 functioning arms instead of just a pinky finger) to help complete the magical transformation of the house's interior.

And so, we make it out of the house with enough time to spare that we can go grab lunch at (where else) Subway before church. (Which is a good thing, because church is hard enough for us when the boys have full tummies.)

Church runs long, which today is a good thing. When it's over, we only have about an hour to kill.

So we drive to get some gas. Little Brother pretty much falls asleep as we're putting him into the car. Big Brother is calmly enjoying the view.

When we can't don't go home, Big Brother starts in to have a mini-tirade of frustration for about the next 30 minutes. Amazingly, Little Brother is not aroused.

We finally get Big Brother to laugh by telling him, "When you were a baby, you called the kitchen the "chicken", and granola bars "bita barn." His sour mood turns to gut-busting laughter on account of his delirium.

We pull back in to our driveway right at 3pm, greeted by the wonderful news from our realtor that...

Drum roll...

We had a grand total of 0, that's right, ZERO, visitors during the Open House.

In the words of Q-bert, "!@#$%^&*!"

The realtor called all of his realtor buddies, and apparently there was an city-wide "boycott" of open houses, because no one was getting any traffic.

As he's leaving the realtor says, "don't worry, we'll have another Open House sometime."

YAY! CAN WE, PLEASE, PLEASE!

Oh well, at least the house is clean again (for the next 5 minutes), and Little Brother was successfully transferred from car to crib without interrupting his REM cycle.

Have a good week.

Please come buy our house, or send someone to buy it,
Busy-Dad-E

My Diego

Happy Fatherhood Friday everyone! Fatherhood is, at times, a jungle, but the great bloggers over at dad-blogs.com will help you navigate your way through it.

In the game "Wheel of Favorite Cartoons", both of my boys have recently become Diego fans.

While some of you have probably been inundated with Diego for years, we are relatively new to the world of "animal rescue."

However, what we lack in experience we make up for with enthusiasm.

And so, you can imagine the excitement (amongst all of the WONDERFUL presents--not trying to slight anyone, just sticking to the post's theme) when Little Brother's birthday present was a Diego Rescue Pack from Gramm-E and Pap-Pap,


and a Diego Talking Gadget Belt from CY-Aunt-E and her Fianc-Eh (who needs an "official" blog name, btw.)


Now, Mom-E and Dad-E knew in advance about the Rescue Pack.

In fact, weeks ago we already bought the same thing for Big Brother for Christmas.

I'd be a big, fat liar fooling myself if I didn't admit to some apprehension about the jealousy factor of having only 1 Rescue Pack (for the time being).

And while we've had a few knock-down, drag-out moments of screaming, it's been interesting to watch the boys interact over these toys.

(I will NOT mention that the Rescue Pack has these "signal flares" that you can shoot up to the ceiling (literally) by pulling on a cord on the strap. I will also NOT mention that I think EVERYONE should have a (talking) backpack complete with signal flares that you can fire off when you need help or are feeling just really happy. Lastly, I will NOT admit to firing off signal flares after the boys have gone to bed. No, not me.)

In short, Big Brother has adopted the attitude of, "I know the Rescue Pack isn't mine...but it's mine." (It does help that Little Brother slightly prefers the Gadget Belt right now).

He (Big Brother) carries it with him everywhere, including to the potty.

He's also made some utterly hysterical comments, such as:
"Little Brother, don't you want to share this (Rescue Pack) with me?" (while bargaining with some (old) blocks)

"I want to show my friends at school my err, Little Brother's Rescue Pack.

"Little Brother, I'll keep your Rescue Pack in my room tonight for SAFE KEEPING."

Poor Little Brother told Mom-E, "I want to ask Santa (to whom he refers as a SHE) for a Rescue Pack."

(It probably didn't help that Big Brother told him, "You need to ask Santa for a Rescue Pack." HUH?!?)

Little Brother has been able to enact some "revenge" by refusing to let go of a telescope that's part of the Gadget Belt, of which Big Brother is particularly fond.

On at least one occasion, I've seen Little Brother dangle the telescope (still firmly in his grasp) in the vicinity Big Brother's face, only to pull it away.

He does so with a grin that so (sweetly) screams, "I know that you want this, but you can't have it and I know how to 'get your goat.'"

Still, the boys appear to be working out thier differences. Just the other day, they worked together with their Diego toys to "rescue" Little Brother's sock monkey from the counter atop a mountain.

Go "Team Diego". I can't wait to set off more signal flares myself see your adventures when we have 2 Rescue Packs.

Have a good weekend,
Busy-Dad-E

Freedom Isn't Free

My mother told me once in my adolescent years that "you're happier when you're busy."

While that's true to a large extent, it's also important to take time to pause, reflect, enjoy, and pay respects.

(Those of you who know may be scratching your heads because you didn't know I actually have a "pause button", probably because it's usually broken.)

But on Veteran's Day, we pause to show respect and to remember all those who have fought/are fighting for our freedom, at home and abroad.

Thank you for giving me the freedom to enjoy my family.


See you on Fatherhood Friday,
May God Bless America,
Busy-Dad-E

Dear Little Brother

Dear Little Brother,

We all enjoyed the recent celebration of your 2nd birthday with friends and family. Mom-E and I can't believe that you're already 2; didn't we just bring your home from the hospital?

In that short time, you've gone from baby to little big boy.

You were quite the character at your birthday party. At first, you were a bit overwhelmed with all of the company, preferring to have Mom-E or I carry you around.

It only took a few minutes before you had stripped from the waist down in Big Brother's room transformed into Batman--suave, confident, and uninhibited--to open prsents.

Fortunately, you transformed back in time to blow out your candles and smear cake and chocolate all over your shirt, which is good as the bat suit is dry-clean only.

Although you emulate Big Brother at every opportunity, your personality is truly your own. You're sweet but confident and not afraid to stand up for youself.

Mom-E and I are amazed by your verbal skills. No doubt, the fact that you repeat everything Big Brother says has helped your language development. Just today at bathtime, when I started washing your hair (which you don't like), you informed me, "That's not cool, Dad-E."

While we'd like to move past your current trick of stipping in your crib and going potty in your bed, we're also impressed that you've already been successful using the big boy potty several times. We fully expect these potty training successes to regress once Baby-E arrives.

You're an animal lover, both stuffed and real. We'd guess at this point a career as a vet is in store for you (though you can do whatever you like as a career, so long as it's legal.)

You're always game to play ball, too, even if that means hitting a gold ball off of a sprinkler head with a plastic baseball bat.

Your favorite drink is "chocky milk," and if we don't cut you off, you'll drink it until you puke. Literally. (We're sorry, Subway, but that's what you get for offering a 48 oz chocolate milk with your kids meal. Somebody should let Jared know about that. Okay, so it's not really 48 oz, but it actually has 300 calories.)

You love and look up to your Big Brother. The two of you appear to truly enjoy playing with each other, and are becoming good friends.

You bring your own unique pronunciation to several words, including our favorites: "glass-lahs" (glasses), "pizz-lah" (pizza), and "f-ck" (truck). Trust me, on the latter we've repeatedly tried to emphasize that truck starts with a t-r.

(We're just glad that there are no trucks at church or the grocery store.)

You're attentive and sensitive to babies. No doubt you'll be a sweet big brother, even if it means giving up being the baby in the family.

Mom-E and I are very proud of you, the boy you've become, and the bigger boy you'll be.

Here's to a great 3rd year. Happy birthday, buddy. Your giggles and sweet smile bring joy to our hearts. There isn't anyone (except Big Brother) that I'd've preferred to carry around for a significant chunk of the last 2 years.

I love you, always, cuddle-bug,
Busy-Dad-E

Firemen

Happy Fatherhood Friday everyone! If you're not in a hyperglycemic coma from Halloween candy, be sure catch up on all of the great bloggers over at dad-blogs.com.

While you're at it, please pass the Milk Duds.

Okay, seriously, I hope that everyone had a safe and Happy Halloween/Trick-or-Treat.

Here at Busy-Dad-E, my boys are still in the dress-up spirit, even if Batman is a bit passe'.

The other day, in lieu of a lollipop while out running errands, someone gave Little Brother 2 plastic Fire Chief hats.

We're not entirely sure what happened, except to say that someone turned on the creative faucet "full blast."

Next thing you know, Big Brother had organized Little Brother (and the rest of the family) into a small volunteer fire department.

The first request was to rescue a dump truck chair from the attic (sorry, CY-Aunt-E, had to go up there with the house on the market) to serve as a fire truck.

This was shortly followed by a plea to get down an old Lightning McQueen step-stool from the laundry room to serve as a ladder.


Then Big Brother wanted his soccer cones for a siren for the truck.


Finally, Dad-E chipped in with the idea that his ties would make good hoses.


(Please note Little Brother did eventually figure out how to turn the hose on.)

And so this week, we've had no shortage of entertainment fire fighting right in the middle of our family room. The entertainment center was almost engulfed in flames on at least 3 separate occasions.

Fortunately, the loudest, shrillest, plastic whistle you ever heard fire alarm helped the firemen arrive on time.

Of course, afraid of being usurped in popularity, Batmen (plural) did make a guest appearance to help out our firement, kinda like when the Harlem Globetrotters appeared on Scooby-Doo.


(They were kind enough to let Big Batman drive the truck.)

Mom-E and I have really enjoyed this creative role-play, especially seeing the boys work together as a "team." Not to mention, as we're about to get bombarded with the commercialism of the holiday season, it's satisfying to know that the boys can have oodles of fun with the stuff that's already hanging around the house.

Have a good weekend,
Busy-Dad-E

Security Band-Aids

Some kids have blankies.

Other kids have teddy bears or baby dolls.

Little Brother has his band-aids.

That's right, band-aids.

Little Brother is pretty much obsessed with band-aids right now.

If he gets so much as a hang-nail, he needs wants a band-aid.

And once it's on, it's ON. I mean, he wants to leave it on for DAYS at a time such that you'd have to pretty much anesthetize him to get it off or he gets a tan line from the band-aid even in winter.

At other times, he doesn't even have a so-called ouchie. That's right, he just wants a band-aid for security it's own sake.

The funny part is that when I ask him "Where does it go?", he'll look at his right hand, then pull up his right sleeve, then look at his left hand, before finally settling on his left forearm.

"I have a band-aid, Mom-E!", he proudly exclaims.

"Are you sure you don't want me to put it on your forehead, little buddy?"

Someday when he's tall enough to reach the shelf I'm going to come home and that little guy's going to be covered from head to toe in band-aids.

I wish I could "fix" everything that bothered me with a band-aid. But that's what duct tape and super-glue are for.

See you on Fatherhood Friday,
Gotta to run to the store and pick up some more band-aids,
Busy-Dad-E

Newsy Notes

Most of the time when I sit down to blog I've already picked out a theme and drafted the high points of the post in my mind.

If I'm feeling uber-obsessive, or have lots of good material, I sometimes find it efficient to do this for a week's worth of posts in one sitting.

However, at other times, just coming up with a theme escapes me.

Today is one of those times.

Call it fatigue, call it whatever, sometimes the focus of life is getting through the daily grind. And still plenty of joy comes from this grind, even if it doesn't provide new blog material.

This phenomenon is remniscent of child development. We're in one of those "holding pattern phases", on the cusp of big changes.

Perhaps I'm still recovering from my trip abroad.

Perhaps we're in shock about Bab-E's pending arrival in a few short months (and still trying to make deposits into the sleep bank.)

Perhaps we're tired and fretting over the constant battle to keep up with the house while it sits is on the market.

So here's a few other tidbits/updates across of variety of things:

1. We had a nice Halloween. The boys ran amok in the yard while Mom-E and I carved the pumpkin. Little Brother tried to hit a golf ball off of the top of a sprinkler head with a plastic fat bat. Big Brother stepped on goldfish crackers in the driveway. Both boys were sucessful in their Trick-or-Treat endeavors.
I'd show you pictures, but I've already posted shots of their costumes. I was particularly proud of Big Brother, who was an amazing helper when it came to passing out candy.

2. Little Brother continues to enjoy stripping in his crib when he has to go potty, and has fertilized his crib sheets at least once since the related post. We just bought him some Diego pull-ups and I wonder if he'd ever wear regular diapers again.

3. Big Brother has become a fan of reruns of the cartoon series Thundercats. Even though I can't get the theme song out of my head, I'm relishing in the nostalgia of one of the cartoons I grew up watching. Big Brother carries a Lego Sword of Omens with him wherever he goes.

4. I recently completed my half-marathon. I was pleased to turn in a respectable time of just over 2 hours. I was chunking along at sub-2 hour pace for the first 11.5 miles before my body said, "What are you doing?" The boys ran wild after the race. I wish there was a kids fun run to help them burn off some energy. The other night, the boys wanted to line up in the kitchen doorway, have Mom-E count to 3, run laps around the house, and then collect their medal (whatever toy was pulled out of the box). I'm glad they're this enthused about exercise.

That's about it for now. Just keeping bus-e enjoying the daily grind.

Have a good week,
Busy-Dad-E