Dad: One exceptionally good at embarassing you

I'm at home today with a sick little one. Fortunately, it's the bigger little one. Lauren woke up screaming last night complaining about her ears. So, I stayed home with her and took her to the doctor. The doctor asked which ear hurt, but she clammed up tighter than ... well ... a clam. (My analogies are just horrid today). He took a look in the right ear and exclaimed "Oooh, I guess it's the right one." To be thorough, he checked the left ear. That led him to say, "Hmm ... I guess it's both!". Not only that, but the infection has blistered some. Based on his explanation, it was a shock Lauren hadn't spent the whole day just writhing in agony. Except ... other than the outburst last night, she's been her normal self.
To make for a special day, I decided to take her to a restaurant for lunch. Naturally, the restaurant chosen is more known for it's ice cream sundaes than food. After all, M&M minis, whip cream, and a cherry on top of a chocolate and chocolate chip ice cream smothered in hot fudge and peanut butter would brighten anyone's day. (Except for maybe billwith2js).
After lunch, we got her medicine and headed home. I had to do some work (what a lovely use of PTO), during which she was quite understanding. Once that was done, it was time for fun. We played with now half deflated balloons from Eric's party this weekend. That included her laughing hysterically as I tried to keep 2 balloons in the air by diving left and right and making mince meat of my knees. It was painful, but her laugh just erases any sense of pain.
At one point, I asked if she wanted to play keep the balloons in the air, but she preferred to watch and laugh.

Me: Ah! I see. You like seeing me make a fool of myself.
Her: Don't worry daddy! I know you can do it!

I thought I had a few more years before having to deal with a snarky daughter! She's just growing up too fast. Next thing you know, she'll be doing that tongue click/eye roll combo when I inevitably say something stupid or embarrassing. After all, what is being a father except doling out embarrassment as often as possible?

I Think I'm Going to Throw Up

Over the past few weekends, I have been forced to engage in an activity I loathe: Exercise. I have tried to avoid this as much as possible, something my portly girth can attest to. Unfortunately, an insipid little person has taken it upon herself to be my personal trainer, whether I want one or not.
The problem all started with a new bike. When riding her tricycle, I could easily keep pace with just a leisurely walk. Having tires only 4 inches in diameter will do that. As we all know from our geometry classes, that's a mere 12.6 inches per rotation of the wheel. Lauren's little legs couldn't drive that puppy fast enough to make me break a sweat. Now, however, she's gotten a big girl bike with wheels a full 12 inches in diameter. THAT'S THREE TIMES THE SIZE!! Couple the bigger wheel with a more standing position and she goes so fast I have to jog to keep up. JOG!!! ME!!! I am especially annoyed when she starts going full tilt, then looks back and laughs at my continued insistence on not wearing a sports bra. She's got a wicked sense of humor for a three year old.
Why not just get a bike of my own? Because, silly reader ... ... I have no answer for that. But it would be tantamount to admitting I am going to work out because now I have made an investment. At least this way, Debbie might, possibly, have to do the running. In all likelihood though, it will be me. I just can't wait to be the laughing stock of the neighborhood when people are actually outside to see my portly behind bounding down the sidewalk in a desperate attempt to not be a negligent father. Hopefully, everyone will keep it down to a snicker until I pass out of earshot. Right now, that's the best I think I can expect.

I would have tried Valium, but there are laws

Prior to kids, having either Debbie or I sick was annoying, but could be a blessing. If Debbie were ill, I would take care of her, but I could also hop on the computer for long stretches. Even with one child, things weren't so bad. After all, plenty of rest time could be had when nap/quiet time came around. Now, putting one of us out of commission on a weekend is borderline cruel and unusual punishment. With two kids, there's no down time at all. I think they secretly confer to make sure they each demand their naps at separate times of the day so you have to keep at least 1 occupied at all times.
It all started last weekend when Eric contracted a fluctuating fever with some minor coughing. We figured it was an ear infection coupled with a cold. By Tuesday, we decided a pediatrician visit was required and found out the poor little guy had pneumonia. Blech! By Thursday, Lauren started sporting the signs of a cold, but fortunately not pneumonia. On Friday, I too was stricken with a cold. Then came Saturday morning. I only had congestion, with some sneezing and coughing. Debbie woke up in the middle of the night with the flu. That put me in charge of both kids for the whole day. Things went pretty well right up to about 4 in the afternoon. Around that time, my mind and body decided they were done and wanted to take a break. The kids did not oblige. I trudged through the remaining 4 hours of the day, but playing with them was really tough. I became terse and a bit snippy. Especially when Lauren would pull out her crying for no reason routine. Thank goodness for The Jungle Book. That kept Lauren occupied for an hour and a half while I gave Eric some one on one time. Once the movie was over though, it was back to both of them demanding all my attention. Debbie came down around 6:30 because Eric had heard mommy talking and went ballistic (he loves his mommy!). Debbie got him to nap while I took to the task of dinner. After the kids went to bed, so did I.
Fortunately, Sunday found Debbie feeling much better and able to at least help a bit. Good thing too, I'm not sure I could have gone that second day all by myself again feeling like I was. I've decided that next time, though, I think I'm going to sign up to be the sick parent. Suddenly the idea of holing up in the bed room with some occasional sickness unpleasantries doesn't sound nearly as bad.

The Clock is Ticking, Get to Work.

Do you expect a toddler to ask questions that would task even the most learned scholar would have a hard time answering? I sure don't! And I certainly didn't expect such a question in the car today.
Eric had to go to the doctor's office this evening, so I went there and picked up Lauren to take her home. On the way, we had our usual conversations and song singing. Again, as usual, she expressed that we were going to see Sheba when we got home? That's when she whipped out the big guns.
Lauren: "Daddy, where's Lizzy?"
Me: "Um ... Lizzy died sweetie", I said confused because she's gotten this part of the topic as far as I knew.
L: "Is Lizzy at the dentist?"
M: "No sweetie ... she died."
L: "But where is Lizzy?"
M: "She's in doggie heaven."
L: "Can we go to heaven and get her?"

Here's where I just had to stop. I completely understood her thinking and could not figure out a way to placate the curiosity. She knew I took Lizzy to the doctor's and she also knew people don't stay at the doctor's, so Lizzy had to be somewhere. Lauren wanted to know where that somewhere was and how do we get there. What is a parent to do at this point? I did what I thought best: stall.

Me: "Honey, you're going to have to give daddy a bit on that one. If you still want to know tomorrow, you can ask me then."

Now ... please help. I need to know an answer in 18 hours. Better get on that, the clock is ticking.

The Ups and Downs of Fatherhood

Yesterday was one of those classic fatherhood days. For the past 3 years, I have found it difficult to have one of those "bleck" days where nothing goes right. I have also found it difficult to have one of those fantastic days where everything goes right. Kids tend to see to it that you have some really good highs and some really good lows, all in the same day.
Let me start with the lows. Lauren was in a "Let's see what I need to do to make daddy's face turn red" mood. I wish I could have seen it coming, but she was in a great mood that morning and even when I walked in the door. I thought I might have a good night right until I said it was bed time. The look on her face was as if I had taken her favorite doll and ripped it's little head off. In her mind, I immediately transformed from SuperDad to OgreDad with 3 little words: "It's bed time". Things just went down hill from there. She tested me at every step, slowly tinting my face from the normal, healthy, pasty white to ever darkening shades of Daffy Duck blowing his top red. Naturally, I did my best to hide my anger since ... well ... blowing up just tends to make the situation worse. You hold onto that until your spouse asks a seemingly innocuous question like "How was your day?" and you can blow up then. From placing her in bed, until she actually was asleep (or at least willing to not get out of bed and yell out the door) took over an hour. Ugh. As any parent, I absolutely loathe feeling angry at my child, but it happens sometimes.
Now for the high. If you are ever feeling down, feeling like you accomplished absolutely nothing in the past 24 hours, I have found the remedy for that. Simply head towards the bathroom and your toddler will demand to follow you. For some reason, potty training toddlers love to see how others do their business to pick up on any best practices. When the distinct sounds of things going in the water emanate from the toilet, he expression of joy on their face will brighten your day. Their exclamations of "You go Pee Pee!! You push out the Poo Poo!!" will instill a pride that Yes ... you did push out the poo poo and you did a darn good job at it. There's just no better feeling.
Now, the truly gifted child will not need a whole day to give you a high and a low. The good ones can achieve that in a mere 15 second span. Case in point, after her 4th time out of bed and yelling out the door, I marched in, angrily picked her up, and forcibly placed her in bed, which caused the water works to go in overdrive. I wasn't proud of this, but I had had enough of the bed time delays. I waited a bit and then snuggled with her to make her feel a little better. After tucking her in for the upteenth time that night, I was praying this one would stick. Even so, I softly whisper, "I love you". As I leave, I hear the following: "I love you too". Crap. Guess I can't be angry after that anymore.