Hitting the Dad Jackpot

I hit the dad lottery last week. There was no cash payout, but I was gleeful nonetheless.

Tiffany was out on a Saturday morning shopping, or something. I was in charge of caring for the boy. Duties as assigned included a bath this particular morning. Upon waking up, we took care of the bathing, lotion and dressing business. He was smelling good. I was feeling good about myself.

Yeah, I know, the pouch contains organic fruits. Not a big fan because organic baby food is not fortified with vitamins and nutrients. However, with pouches just taking off, the selection is a bit scant.

He was hungry, so we went to the kitchen to rustle up some grub. He’s very impatient in the morning, so I started off with one of those Gerber pouches. It’s basically pureed baby food in a juice pouch configuration (an absolutely ingenious invention).

At this stage in his life, Linus’ fine motor skills are developing. Note, I said “developing” not “developed.” Being an idiot, I took the cap off the pouch and handed it to him. He instantly gave it a big squeeze ... while it was still a good four inches from his face.

Boom! His shirt was covered in a pureed paste that closely resembles Robocop’s lunch. Instant dad fail. 

But, wait. What’s this? The pouch contains apples, blueberries and spinach, which is apparently purple in color. And, his shirt is maroon! Woohoo! A quick wipe of a paper towel and the evidence was gone.

That, my friends, is what it’s like to hit the dad jackpot.

An Open Letter to my Man Parts

Dearest Ballbag & Surrounding Area,

I sit here writing this on the day before my Vasectomy. First let me just point out the fact that I am actually sitting. Comfortably. On a wooden chair. I don’t think I will have this opportunity for the next week or so to be comfortable on wood. But I digress…

Anyway, I’m not sure really where to start on this. This day has been in the works since Oliver was born. Like most things in my past, I’ve procrastinated this (arguably too long). However instead of putting you off like some paper in college where my grade might reflect the lack of effort and last minute rush, procrastination of this event has rendered my wife prego with our 4^th kid and will no doubt be reflected on our bank account. However, I have to think you (and the man upstairs) had bigger and better plans for me than a mere 3 kids. I am going to trust that and go with it.

I am not one to dwell on the past or look back on things. However, I do think an event such as this warrants some retrospect. We have been through a lot together. Not too many close calls, zipper incidents, or blunt force applied. It has been a good time for the most part. Way to go.

 I would like to also thank you for your seemingly relentless reproductive qualities. It’s a really redeeming quality about you and I am sorry for removing it. My kids are really awesome and I appreciate you making some of the best genes this side of the Mississippi. If it wasn’t for them I wouldn’t be a dad and have had all the experiences that come along with that.

I’d also like to take this time to briefly thank the NCAA for creating March Madness. I will be a basketball expert by the end of the weekend.

Your Buddy,

John

P.S. Let's hope this goes better than Jamie's did. He still walks with a limp.

Braggin Rights

It’s March. The weather is crazy. You are probably tired of your kids being on Spring Break and want them to get a job and move out of the house already. You and your wife are probably stressed with Easter (should you celebrate), possibly selling/buying a house, or just other busy stuff that the spring holds for us.

Well as a fun way to promote FRIENDLY competition in your house. We give you the Suburban Father Alliance Bracket Challenge. Its easy. Sign up, make your picks, and beat your spouse.

The scoring is easy.  The more you get right & the higher the round, the better you do.

To sign up simply go to http://suburbanfatheralliance.mayhem.cbssports.com and enter the password: poopydiaper.

We’d love to offer some sort of prize to the winner, but seeing as how we don’t have sponsors or petty cash, we’ll have to keep it to braggin rights among all suburban fathers (or mothers). As for the braggin rights in your house, we’ll leave it up to you, but if your wife wins, make her dinner for 3 days. Not the frozen pizza variety either, a real meal of food. 

Good luck and happy bracketing.

The Dishwasher Dilemma

Has the uncertainty surrounding the clean/dirty status of your dishes ever caused you problems? Have you ever put the dishes away, just to find out that it hadn't actually been run, it was just that one time where they had all been really well rinsed and you weren't sure, but you didn't question it until you were mostly done putting them away and then you confirmed with your spouse that no one had run it, but the dishes were already put away and you couldn't exactly tell which ones had been in there anyway, and they had looked really clean (mostly) so you just left them put away?

No? Me neither.

Anyway, this uncertainty is a pretty big issue. The general lack of communication is bad enough, but when you combine it with parenting-related memory issues it can get downright dangerous . That's why I finally bit the bullet and created a "system." It's not exactly crossing into rocket science territory, but I'm still pretty proud of it.

The trick? Put more soap in immediately after taking the clean dishes out. That way, if there is ever soap in it, you know that it's dirty. Simple. Logical. Efficient.

I know, right?

If you see this, put the dishes away.

You may need to wipe the extra water out of the soap holder  first.

Fill 'er up and let 'er run.

You're all welcome. Nobel Foundation, feel free to leave me a comment below if we need to coordinate me getting to Sweden next summer.

Going out is getting old

Becca and I went out with some friends the other night (the fabulous Dave and Tracy). It was really nice. We split a babysitter and went up to the 28/65 Brewhouse, a newish place in St. Charles that has a LOT of different draft beers.

We had some dinner (my burger was "good") and some beers (my find was the new O'Fallon Rager Red) and then went back to the game room. We played some darts, and some shuffle board (I somehow managed to lose every game I participated in).

Somewhere in the middle of all that we discovered that the video jukebox was also a photo booth. For somewhere between a quarter and a dollar, we were able to take a picture of ourselves and even filter it and add some kittens before posting it directly to Facebook. The photo bombing was free.

Turns out this is 40.

There are a couple of points in your life when you realize you're getting older. Wearing dark socks and sandals to the grocery store is one of them. Having your own "get off of my lawn" moment is one of them. And having a kitten-framed picture on Facebook make your Saturday night is definitely one of them.

And yes, we have already made plans for our next visit.