MarriedandWhatnot

Most of my buddies know I have an affinity for Kung-Fu / martial arts flicks. My ex-bro-in-law was in the Navy and had a closet full of tapes he acquired from overseas. I’d visit their home when I was younger and sit there watching all types of dubbed martial arts flicks. Of course he had recognizable names like Bruce Lee & Jackie Chan, but I liked the older joints with subtitles. I am not really a fan of Crouching Tiger, but prefer the cult classics like 5 Deadly Venoms, Wu-Tang Clan collection, Shaolin Monk flicks, White Lotus and most of Jet Li’s older movies (e.g. The Tai Chi Master).

A few years ago, one of my friends was in a mood to give a thoughtful gift, so he bought me a Samurai Sword letter opener. I recently located this in an old tote, and nested it on my computer desk behind the monitor and the blue lava lamp from college (yes I said lava lamp, don’t hate).

Last night I am on my pc trying to design a campaign poster for my oldest son. Midway into my design session, the 5yr old (#3) walked in and said, “Daddy can I sit on your lap while you do your work?” Usually annoyed by his persistence, I was amused by his smile so I obliged.

I have to pause here to tell you this brief story. A couple nights ago my office looked like a hurricane aftermath. Children’s school papers, bills, junk mail, magazines, weights, CDs, hats, routers…I mean it was a mess. I waited until everyone was sleep and began cleaning. In the midst of tearing envelopes without looking at the contents, in walks my 5yr old to talk my head off. He starts drawing letters and pictures on some scrap paper (which I now discover was an important bill) then out the blue he blurts out, “And Daddy, sometimes when everyone goes to sleep I am up by myself and I sometimes get scared because I hear noises and I cover my head with the sheet and go to sleep.”

Mind you this kids imagination trumps mine on a good day and he starts every sentence with – and Daddy. I respond to the little peanut head child, “You’re not scared so stop saying that. It is nothing but the ice maker.”

He draws a bit more then continues his thought, “And Daddy sometimes when I go to sleep I have nightmares about the big KingKongGorillaMonster coming to get me and the KingKongGorillaMonster is bad and I don’t want the KingKongGorillaMonster to get me so I tell it to leave me alone.”

He said that sentence with at least 12 more words added and without taking a single breath. And yes, KingKongGorillaMonster is all one word. All I could do was laugh.

Back to last night. I am designing stuff for my oldest while little Picasso is busy vandalizing our electric bill with graffiti. In the middle of his artistic expression, he discovers the letter opener which has been sitting there for several months now. I immediately think (censored) – Oh Lord, I need to go hide that joker now before he cuts his brother. As a parent, and especially one with all boys, your brain visualizes the absolute worst case scenario. I mean sometimes these visualizations have the equivalent over-the-top blood splatter of a Kill Bill movie. Anything from them falling through the patio glass head first, to getting their hands chopped off in the garbage disposal. Or maybe them throwing a football into the street, a car slamming on the brakes, flipping ten times while taking out two squirrels until it explodes at the end of our cul-de-sac sending up a mushroom cloud of smoke. Then we’d get sued for everything we have by the homeowners association as well as the family of the driver and up selling all our furniture on Craig’s List just to make ends meat. I guess that’s why I have so many grey hairs stressing and fussing and making sure they are safe and don’t do stupid things (like I did when I was younger). I always thought I’d be a cool Dad, and I am to a certain extent, but as a daddy you find yourself constantly scolding them from running in the house and jumping off furniture, to wrestling moves and body punches they deliver.

So #3 pulls this beautifully crafted Samurai sword it out the sheath and I swear it made the “sha-ching” sound just like the Kung-Fu flicks. He gently placed it back, and withdrew it once more admiring his reflection in the blade. At this point I am at that bad parenting place where it is late, you are tired, and don’t have the energy to fuss. I figured I’d let him play with it for a second, then hide it in my closet never to be seen again. In my purgatory state of good parenting (helping one son with school) and bad parenting (ignoring the other) I lean forward and don’t you know that pointed lil bastard of a sword almost sliced my nose. I immediately grabbed and put it up before my nasal septum resembled Amy Winehouse.

I sat there thinking what would have happened if he really cut me? Imagine me going to work the next day with a band-aid holding that little flap of nose together. My co-workers asking me what happened and me responding, “Oh nothing serious. I just got my nose sliced by a KingKongGorillaMonster dreaming 5-yr old toting a mini Samurai Sword.”

My wife just had our 5th son, so I have been trying to help out around the house as much as I can (insert sympathy here).  Washing clothes, cleaning, cooking…whatever I can so that she can heal. My employer was nice enough to allow me to work from home this week and I don’t have a problem doing any of these things for my wife, but hell…these kids are driving me insane.

Our baby is really good. Him a cute lil thing (funny how babies make you talk silly). He is a really good baby that just wants to be fed, changed and held. But heck, who doesn’t? He is not the problem…it is the others. We give our children ALL crazy attention, and they really love the baby and spoil him. It is just the normal brother wrestling, fighting, annoying each other thing.

My brain is too much ooze to recall all the events from yesterday, let’s just say I woke up trying to rush to others off to school. Oldest two can get up, make themselves oatmeal, it is all gravy. Youngest two are a different story. Them and my wife started throwing shoes and remotes at me telling me to cook or else. I had to manage that, in-between taking calls at work (seemed like my Blackberry would not shut the hell up). I am cleaning the kitchen trying to cook and bam…out of Cascade. Of course my pre-historic brain wouldn’t remotely think of hand washing all this stuff. In my household due to the size, one meal could employ a small cleaning staff. I worked around it and prepared a nice size breakfast (yes I can get down when needbe).  My 2-yr old lil terrorist said, “Ummm” which made me feel a tad bit better. Like hell at least he is enjoying it.

Had a couple meetings they made me dial into, constant calls, steady work…meanwhile kids fighting in the tub, diapers leaking, spilled milk on the carpet…just one thing after a freaken other. I am on a conference call with my BB on speaker answering questions when they called my name and I was paying no attention…meanwhile I am simoutaneously rubbing lotion on my 2 year olds butt (fresh out the tub).  Meeting ended and did a little bit more work, cleaned my office a little bit while joking around with the mrs (I swear I need to get snipped asap before we end up with a #6), then took a quick shower. Had to run to the store to get some items for dinner and more importantly dish detergent. Rushed home before the older two got in, then almost ran this guy off the road a block from home daydreaming about all I need to do before days end. Guy pulls in front of my house right behind me, so I am thinking aw hell…wrong day bruh. Well this wasn’t a road rage incident, but a nice surprise. Guys at work bought my wife one of those edible fruit arrangements. Come put it on the table while I bring the rest of the groceries in. Two little ones surround it and stare like there are leo diamonds inside. Smallest keeps asking for an apple…which was his way of saying ‘pineapple.’

Fast forward. Guy I used to coach with was going to pay for some tickets for us to see his son play (spring football). My schedule was already stacked, and I had two reports that my mgr asked me for earlier that day. I had to throw a stall tactic telling him I would have in his inbox first thing in the am. In the meantime I had to prepare dinner, get the kids dressed…oh and did I mention I had to register #3 for kindergarten?

We eat, I take #3 to school and get hit with…not exaggerating…44 million questions from this kid – So will I start school tomorrow? Where is my bus? What am I going to do? This school thing confuses me. What will I be doing? So I start school next week then? Will I see my teacher? I mean literally this went on for the hour we were there. This is the most inquisitive child ever. By this time in the day my brain was slowly seeping out my ears. I could just ear my wife chuckle from miles away as she sent me off with this folder of birth certificates and shot records to register him. I should have known from the smirk on her face.

I walk in there, and I swear kids were swarming like red ants; coughing, sneezing, no hands covering their mouths all shapes and sizes red ants. Seemed like every other woman was pregnant too. Yes, we get down in TX We go in, and they give us this packet to complete. Went over to a kids lunch table to begin filling out this stack of papers longer than a mortgage application. I am immediately pissed because I absolutely HATE writing (I type everything). Looking at the clock trying to time how long it will take and if we will make it to the game on time. I look at these forms and between the noise and my hand cramping, I felt like kicking one of these kids square in the their shirt logo…with soft clown shoes on of course. I rushed through, took over to another table to get his shot records validated, then stood in another long line to turn everything in. I am sitting here like a retard hearing my wife’s voice in my head scold me about not letting them keep the originals and to make copies…trying to remember all this stuff  so I don’t get my tail reamed later in the midst of 200 screaming kids whose parents apparently have discovered some way to mute the volume and ignore them.

Copies were made, and I can say this part of the day was my favorite. I walked my son around the school and showed him his brothers lockers. Ended up running into some teachers who knew my oldest son and each one glowed and went on and on about how sweet he was. Parenting is a duanting task and sometimes you think what is the point? You are not listening anyway. You win you little booger! Then you have someone rant and rave about your children and it makes you feel good. Like well at least something stuck.

We left, went home to pick up 1, 2 & 3 then headed to the game. Felt it would be a nice detox and a way for mrs to get some rest while we were gone. I call my buddy to get directions. He bluntly told me, but I must have processed wrong. I was driving about 10 miles in the wrong direction. Good thing he called me because I was headed towards another city. We finally make it and besides my smallest one putting his hands on the steps then attempting to suck his finger minutes later, my kids were pretty good. We watched this other team whip on his team, but it was good to get out and get some fresh air. We also got to see a nice campus. Texas football stadiums are no joke!!

After making all the kids wash their hands thoroughly, king of the plum plum pickers made all the kids clean the house prior to taking a bath. Baby (nickname for #4) kept asking for apple, so after they cleaned for a while I pulled her arrangement out the fridge and gave them some skewers. As soon as I pulled off a strawberry or pineapple for one of the others, baby would have his hand out like he wanted another. I looked and noticed he didn’t have anything on his napkin, and realized this little monkey was eating the entire strawberry…leaf and all. I sat and watched him plop the entire thing in his mouth. I couldn’t do anything but laugh. My oldest (who talks just as much as #3) started telling me about this kid he goes to school with whose father eats orange peels. Guess my kid is not that strange after all.

I fell into the recliner and felt my ankles swelling. I am sitting here like what the hell? Am I growing breasts? I am all tired and feel like crying and complaining. Is 2% milk coming out this joker? I didn’t squeeze to check, but my goodness. My wife deserves a salary for all she does. This Mr. Mom crap is out of control. I can do the cleaning because I am a dictator and make the kids do it. Besides mothers tend to be control freaks and daddy’s have to come behind and cut the cord. They need to know how to clean up. I had these boys scrubbing their bathroom the other day. I REFUSE to clean that crap. The cooking part is what annoys me. Seems like they eat every freaken 2 hours. Where do they put all that food? Then there are the little things. Baby (#4) always asking for purple (his way of saying grape Kool-aid) and the other asking for stuff ALL DAY LONG – Daddy can I get on the big computer? Daddy can I have fruit snacks? Daddy purple? Daddy I pee-pee. Daddy he hit me. Daddy can we go to the park? Daddy you going to work? Daddy can I hold baby? Daddy how to you spell pizza party pick-up? Daddy do we have to take the baby back to the doctor?

Safe to say I have an pretty normal day. I at least had the foresight to set my alarm for midnight because I knew I would pass out watching the Cavs smash ATL and I needed to turn those reports in (which are time consuming). I have always said that jobs I worked that are mentally strenuous take a bigger toll on you than jobs requiring physical exertion. I could argue that a call center job in a lot of ways is tougher than a construction job (worked both as a teen). Being a stay at home mom/dad is mentally exhausting. I was on messenger with my dude Juggernaut earlier, and I told him the kids had me sitting at my computer desk fresh out a shower half naked…taking breaks standing in front of the window staring out at the lawn while drinking herbal tea with one hand on my waist trying to remember if I put deodorant on or not. My mind was so far gone, I just can’t remember if I had a towel on or not.

Due to my workload it’s rare that I write a post on the weekends, but due to the fact this blog was created to share family stories and relationship thoughts, figured I’d write while I have a quick second. 

As far as the title, it is a personal joke I suppose. I am the candy hater in my house. If it weren’t for my wife, my kids probably would never have hard candy. Pet peeve I suppose, but I absolutely hate watching kids eat suckers. Dum dums, blowpops, it don’t matter – I hate seeing sticky hands.  That and I found the irony in the fact people frequently say I’m “dumb” from my attempts at e-mail humor. It has absolutely nothing to do with this post.

Yesterday I was shaving while listening to my 2yr old sing/dance to Hip Hop Harry when I thought to myself, “Why in hell did I buy these cheap razors?” I call myself budget shopping and bought disposable Gillette razors versus the regular Mach3. In all my years of shaving, I never used a disposable so didn’t realize how cheap they were. Not a good look for my scalp. Some things you can’t cheapskate on. Almost like the difference in eating cheap/generic Doritos. Just not the same. Distraught from my usually pleasant shaving experience, I came out of our bathroom to see these uncoordinated kid actors on Hip Hop Harry doing some dances I have never seen before. I am sorry, but children dancing badly is not cute. Poor things needed to be scolded, and all their dancing privileges revoked until further notice. I know I am not that old, but when did breakdancing become cool again? Heck I remember when I was my kids age we went to the movies to see Electric Boogaloo (now I am aging myself). Remember Turbo who looked like Tyson the model? Actually, my dude Pluv looks like Ozone (sorry bro – lol).  

Anyways, my wife had a meeting to go to, so it was me and the boys. We all watched a little NCAA (go Flyers), then watched Bolt. Looking over my tribe it made me thank God. I am not a millionaire or a guy with $300k sitting in the bank. My family has went through a lot, but I am thankful because I truly believe it brought us all closer. I never thought I would have this many children nor a wife to be honest. When I would see families this size I used to wonder how parents did it. Seemed like you would have a favorite or not love one as much. Or maybe that is what I figured my mother thought because of the other child she hatched. Now that I am in that position, it amazes me how God expanded my capacity to love. I can’t explain it, but right now I am looking over all of them (occupying every piece of furniture in the living room), and I love each one of them equally. I enjoy watching them interact, and love individual things about all of them.

I am in a spirit of thankfulness because I know there are people a lot worse off than I am. I am thankful for my health. I am thankful that in this economy I have a job. I am thankful we have food to eat, clothes on our back, and utilities paid. I am thankful that I am in a position to continue my education. I am thankful that I have been blessed with friends. I am blessed that I am allowed to lick and spank my best friend. Ok, maybe that didn’t come out the way I intended, but you get the point. My life is no where near peachy. I could literally pour my heart out in a post with the things we went through that would make someone tear up. But on the flip side of that coin, there are a plethora of people who would kill to be in my shoes. I won’t get all philosophical, but I am really trying to develop a thankful attitude towards life and enjoy every moment.  

I have determined that I will continue to spend my time learning and laughing. I have really been reassessing this blog thing. How I think at times it is beneficial, I don’t have the time to allocate to it like I want. In the coming weeks you will see me scaling back. I may possibly post once a week. I may post once every two weeks. I won’t give up completely, but there are more important things in life to me right now.

Well, it’s been real. Mrs is firing up the waffle iron as we speak. We found a recipe for Waffle House waffles, so we are attempting to recreate. Today I plan on eating like a fat gluttonous bastard, cranking up Pandora.com to cut these boys hair, then later on doing some work while watching my stellar NCAA picks comes to fruition. Heck, I may even let them eat suckers on the couch today. You never know. 

Have a blessed, safe, prosperous weekend!

JM

Hey folk! I took a brief hiatus to get my head straight and priorities in order. Forgive me in advance for todays blog.  A few days ago my friend told me that he felt he was running on a treadmill while others were passing him by. It is a difficult part of life when we attempt not to measure where we are with others our age, friends and family. I am guilty of this from time to time, and I have to step back and reassess life. How I am close with many, there are none who have the EXACT same situation as I do. I have discovered that the hardest thing about life (in my opinion) is choices. When you are at the fork in the road, and you don’t have time to think and have to make an immediate decision, what do you do? And furthermore, how do you deal with the consequences when  you realize you went down the wrong path? I will revisit this again one day. So what did I do this weekend you ask? Nothing.

Saturday some kids asked my son to come out and play football with them in the street. As I sat in my office protectively watching through the window, I couldn’t help but to see some kids with bad throwing form. As a coach, you tend to have this inner desire to teach. I fiddled my leg anticipating running out there to correct him, but I had to finish my taxes. Then I thought about how short life is, and how I could do my taxes when the kids were sleep, but I couldn’t get that moment back in time of playing street football with my son, or influencing that other young boy.  I thought about how I could use this moment to bless another life, versus being selfish and trying to just take care of my immediate needs. I threw on my gear and moved the kids to a strip of land where I could be all-time QB. I actually got my 6 and 4 year old playing with us to make it a nice 3-on-3 matchup. Team 1 was my oldest, my 4yr old, and this young girl. Team 2 was the young girls brother, this chunky kid who looked like Thurman Merman off Bad Santa, and my 6yr old. I was able to teach the kids some fun plays and mechanics. I won’t go into detail about the game, but the girl ended up having a nice arm, which helped with trick plays. We designed some plays for my 4yr old to score (which he had to run back across the street to tell his mom each time). However after all the events, my most memorable moment was my 6yr old. The kid never really expressed much interest in the sport, and ignored me when I tried to teach him. Prior to the game he was taking my instruction like a pro, and come game time actually had a few deep runs, and a completed pass. Last play of the game my oldest scored on him, and my 6yr old buried his head in my back and started pushing me. I am sure other fathers out there know what I am talking about. The birth of competitiveness in your son where he doesn’t like to lose, doesn’t want to cry, is frustrated but can’t hit you. Like one word will send them over the edge into a rage of tears and aggression. I took a knee and tried to encourage him and tell him what a good job he did, etc…but strangely enough that moment excited me as I saw a turning point in his growth. I wouldn’t have seen it if I stayed inside to do taxes. I think I made the right choice.

Sunday I planned on getting some work done so I could spend time with the fam and enjoy the Super Bowl. I still had to do those taxes, along with a plethora of other things. My sons have this fisher price rim and the oldest asked me if he could bring it into the kitchen. I immediately knew I would get in trouble with the mrs if we broke anything (since earlier that day the 2yr lil terrorist already broke a jar of salsa all over the kitchen floor trying to get his juice out the fridge). We began a battle to show who has the best jump shot as we shot all over the house and used full advantage of our vaulted ceilings. After I set multiple records, we moved to a 2-on-2 game. It was #1 & #2 vs. #3 and myself. I guess this is only funny if you know the kids, but #2 & #3 fight constantly…then are laughing 5 mins later. I can’t really say what happened this game because of child protection laws, but let’s just say it looked like a jr high fight. These two get mad, and it is over. Bad thing is the older one used to smack him (in an attempt not to hurt him), and I went off about him swinging like a little girl and to never do that again. Well he took my words literally and looked like Roy Jones yesterday. He had to connect at least 5 times before the youngest used his brute strength to thrust him against the couch like a superhero. I think this was residual from them pushing and shoving during the football match yesterday. In any case I made them break it up, hug, makeup, all that good stuff. After all the fights, bruises, falls, other stuff that goes along with playing…my sons had a ball. The 2yr old was even getting in the mix, and might I say he has a nasty shot on him. Kid sits and watches bball flicks and tries to mimic it all day long. He absolutely loves basketball and it is like his meditative place he likes to visit where he can take his ball, dribble, shoot, and zone out to the rest of the world. I am rambling now, but I am just a proud father glowing about a moment in time I created by making a choice to invest in my children, rather than focus on bills and other troubles in life.

I also invested some time with my wife this weekend. I just like  being in her presence, talking to her about life family and our kids, playing with her, tickling her, joking with her, watching her sleep. I think sometimes we (men) get caught up in what we need/have to do and don’t stop to invest in our women. I once wrote about how we hinder our blessings by not reverencing what God blessed us with. And sometimes it does not take a lot. I have read before that just holding hands can have medical/emotional benefits for women. All that to say I chose to spend time with her, versus, doing bills, work, etc. I think I made the right choice.

When I think using men logic, and make statements like “I didn’t really do anything this weekend”… in actuality I did. I invested in my family. There was no rhyme nor reason to today’s blog. Let’s just say it was a reflection day where I assessed who and what is important in my life. I spoke with my goddaughter this weekend for a couple minutes (before she deferred to my wife), and after hearing her angelic voice I decided it is time to reassess my relationships. To allocate more time to those who are important (family/friends), and distance myself from those who aren’t (family/friends). It is time I start doing some pruning. Today I will end this blog today from another quote from the movie PRIDE.

“My life is way too short for me to spend my time around people who don’t care about nothin’.”
- Jim Ellis (Pride)

Right now I am pretty proud to be a black man, and an American. I was talking to my wife today (because I called off), and as we watched the inauguration, it filled my heart with joy to hold my 2yr while this historic event took place. My wife and I talked about racism, and I advised her I truly don’t believe it will ever just go away. Whenever you have people from different backgrounds and something is foreign to someone, there will be preconceived notions and biases formed. What I do believe is that we will get to a point where a lot of this silly generation of old hatred will eventually die off. I do think we are making strides, but we are a long way from it. As we sat and watched, we became so tickled at the benediction given by Rev. Joseph E. Lowery. His words were so smooth, eloquent and well put together, then in the last line he cut up. Like most people his age, he has earned the right to say what whatever he wants. 

“….help us work for that day when black will not be asked to give back, when brown can stick around, when yellow will be mellow, when the red man can get ahead, man, and when white will embrace what is right.”

Pure comedy!

As I checked my email box this AM, I was saddened to hear one of my friends back in Ohio lost his father. There have been a lot of males around me who have passed recently; from my co-workers father-in-law, to my manager’s father, to my wife’s uncle. All have passed within a 4 week time span and all were fathers. It made me start thinking about life again. I won’t get all dreary and depress you like I did on the death blog, but when people pass away it does make you reflect on life, and time, and what we do while here. I always tell my friends that when I pass, I want to make sure that I left an impact on this world prior to departure. I want to leave a legacy for my children and generations to come.

Many of the guys I grew up with didn’t have our fathers in our lives. A lot of us also grew up with a lot of resentment and anger as a result. As I matured into an adult, I forgave and discovered there were life situations that completely changed how I viewed his absence. There was a time as a young man that I recall speaking to him prior to college, and even though he hadn’t been there my entire life I still valued his words and approval (which is something I never admitted that until years later). Regardless of how my feelings may have been hurt in the past, I had to make a conscious decision to let it go. Me holding on to that anger was obstructing the flow of blessings into my life. I remember soon as I let that anger go, I felt a shift in my life. I am not saying that changes anything from the past, but what I am saying is it opens doors for the future. You don’t have to be buddy buddy (because I am not) but you can at least be cordial.

I have another friend who was in a similar situation. He had a step-father who he considered his ‘real’ dad, and had resentment towards his biological. I remember some of the conversations we had about forgiveness. I remember during that period of time he was still upset with his father, but when he passed away how he broke down at the funeral. I am not trying to put peoples business out there, but I do want to make a point about how instrumental fathers are. Regardless of their presence, their words have a major influence over the way we view ourselves. My kids adore my wife, and love her more than anything, but there is something about their father’s approval that they need. I have various stories from my friends about their fathers not being around, but how his words still had influence over their lives.

I know there are a bunch of deadbeats out there, BUT what I have learned in life is there is always two sides to a story. I am sure for every no good babydaddy, there is a no good babymoma standing right there beside him. For every deadbeat dad, there is a mom dropping her kids off so she can go clubbing or to a bar. I am sure that will piss some women off, so let me pause and explain. I came from a single family home, and I seen how much my mother had to sacrifice for me. I know there was times she needed to get away if nothing but going on a weekend vacation with her cousins. I am know you need a break from time to time, but inappropriate is what it is. Take it with a grain of salt but some stuff mothers have no business doing (and I will leave it at that). What I am trying to point out is the fact society always labels men as no good, but never highlights the other psycho part of the equation. I wonder how many dads would actually come around if the ex wife / child’s mother didn’t (fill in your own blanks). Yes there are some men who are dogs, but come on now. Hollywood always portrays fathers who aren’t with the mothers as the scum of the earth. I was watching that terrible Meet The Browns, and it amazed me how heartless they wrote the fathers’ character. It was apparent the writer (Tyler Perry) has some issues with his dad, but come on now. Have you ever seen a man act that way towards his child? When I ask that question I don’t mean him not coming around when you want him to, I mean acting like he doesn’t care if the kid died? Let’s be honest, those Hollywood portrayals are a bit dramatic and far-fetched. But this is the image society paints when men and women are irresponsible and have children outside of a committed relationship.

I don’t want to dig too deep into that discussion, but I bring this up because I see that men need help. I personally don’t like the word ‘deadbeat’ because people tend to deduct without knowing the facts. I am not saying men don’t have some issues and that there aren’t bad ones out there, but what I am saying is continuing to beat men up verbally will not help the situation. We need to start uplifting males and encouraging them so we can get society back on track. There has been a major shift in roles. And why is there never any mention of the plethora of GOOD fathers out there?

If you know someone who is a father, regardless of if you deem them good or bad, just be the bigger person and show them some love today. Life is complicated and not worth wasting time being mad because your feelings were hurt. I know all relationships aren’t that cut and dry, but just forgive so things in your life aren’t hindered. Most relationships can be patched up with a few short words. I implore you to call, e-mail or write and encourage a father you know!

As a guy we always go through these phases with our boy toys. For me (for years) it has been electronic gadgets. I still want a new digi-camcorder along with 55′ plasma, but as of recently I have a new desire. I want a black boxer. I only had one dog growing up which was a german shep / collie mix. I loved that mutt, and when she died my mom was so hurt she vowed to never get a pet again. My dude ALL CAPS has…heck I don’t know what that lil heifer is. She is cute though, and it is funny how I tease him about her and how sensitive he gets (I still got some dogs that want to get on when you come to visit Dew).

Lately I have been fascinated with Boxers. I been looking into them for quite some time, but since my bro-in-law bought one my interest has once again been sparked. I have a friend back in OH who bought two boxers from the pound, and have another friend (PC geek) who has had one for years. My old-co-worker had a couple mini boxers. Every person who has one says the same thing about them. How they are such good dogs, so smart, etc etc. The thing is I am so fickle and I know exactly what I want. I don’t want the ears cut (like the floppy look) but I want the tail cut. I also want a black one with white paws similar to this…

(photos taken from blackchampionboxers.com)

Man those are some pretty dogs!! Maybe someone reading this post will be inspired by something I’ve written and give us one as a gift. Hey, I can dream. lol.

I recently blogged about the top 10 gifts I never received as a kid, and somehow I stumbled upon this YouTube video. Technically there are worse mothers out there, but this is just wrong. This kid thought his dreams came true as he ripped back the paper of his Christmas present to reveal an XBOX360. To his dismay his mother played a cruel joke on him and stuffed the 360 box with clothes. To add insult to injury, while his mom is telling him they can’t afford an xbox there is some ignorant family member in the background cackling.

I hope this was a YouTube prank. If not, that heifer is dead wrong.

This was a conversation the wonder twins (my 4 & 6 year old) had in the back seat of the van a few weeks back.

4 yr: Is it Christmas yet? When is Santa supposed to come?
6 yr: There is no Santa. Daddy is Santa.
4 yr: That’s right, I forgot.
6 yr: But he has to get a green suit so he can buy us toys.
4 yr: He already has a green suit, and a big brown bag to hold our toys.
6 yr: OH!

Yea, it didn’t make sense to me either. lol. They never cease to amaze me with their conversations. Now I am sure millions will disagree with me, but I just don’t get this Santa stuff. Growing up I always questioned Santa and his tactics. How he came down a chimney, the construction, his weight/size, our fireplace, what if I slept over Grandma’s house, how does he get to my friends with apartments? More importantly, I was a good kid and didn’t understand why I didn’t get certain things when spoiled brats I knew did. After I kept asking questions, my grandfather told me the truth. He didn’t believe in lying to kids about Santa, and you know what…I agree. It didn’t destroy me because it never made sense to me in the first place.

I am not a Grinch. How I may not be the jollyest person, my family definitely gets into the spirit of the holiday. We are very giving, we decorate heavily (prior to Thanksgiving…lol), and watch numerous seasonal movies. It is not that I am against tradition, but what I am against is lying to your kids. As a parent we try to do our best to equip our kids with the tools they need to succeed. Along with basic needs (food, clothing, shelter) some of us instill principles, manners and wisdom to help with their survival once they leave the roost. In our household we try to build men with integrity and teach them to be honest, so how can you do that and outright lie? And for what? Because society tells you to do so? I can’t speak for anyone else, but we work to hard for our money for our kids not to appreciate that these things were sacrifices from their parents. My kids have grown to become very thankful and I love that about their personalities. They go so far as to thank us when we prepare their food. They are that way because the time we devote to developing their character. People dedicate all this energy to develop faith in their kids regarding Santa, but not Christ?

What are your thoughts? I am not judging whatsoever. I feel it is your child, and you should have the right to do what you feel best. What I do have a problem with is people looking at us like we are lepers because we choose to tell our children the truth. I actually feel sorry for anyone who my 4yr old comes in contact with. He is not shy like my other sons, rather quite outgoing and outspoken. He will argue with you in a heartbeat, and I am sure he will burst someones bubble…lol.

I wrote this prior to Christmas to auto-publish, so I pray you all have a blessed Holiday. Keep Christ in Christmas!

J

When I was younger my grandfather got mad at my mother for writing “X-MAS” on the box of decorations we kept in the attic. He said that we were crossing out the name of Christ. I heard what he said, but at the time I really didn’t understand why he took that so seriously. Now that I am older and look at things from a different angle, I get it. I Googled ‘xmas’ and there was an interesting perspective on Wilki. I understand this isn’t the most credible source, but they stated: “Christ” was often written as “XP” or “Xt”; there are references in the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle as far back as AD 1021. This X and P arose as the uppercase forms of the Greek letters χ and ρ, used in ancient abbreviations for Χριστος (Greek for “Christ”), and are still widely seen in many Eastern Orthodox icons depicting Jesus Christ.

I am too exhausted to do the research right now, so I chose to stay in cynical land (my own mental amusement park). I hear what the article is saying, but I still have my reservations. Why don’t we abbreviate Thanksgiving and call it X-giving? I mean technically it is a longer word. These are things I question. You have to do what you feel, but for me and my household we choose to keep Christ in Christmas.

Be blessed people!