Tag Archives: never listen to dad

The Real Good Luck Charlie, Chapter 3: What are we going to do with all this stuff?

24 Sep

So Charlie, we’ve got a few weeks until you’re supposed to show up and we’re drowning in stuff.  Your stuff.  Would you mind cleaning your room?  Please.  We’ve got strollers and swings and clothes and diapers and bedding everywhere.  Two pack-and-play’s, a crib, AND a bassinet.  Why does someone who is estimated to be about 7lbs at birth need all this stuff?  Oh…  Right.  You’re a baby.  That’s how you roll.

So you’ve got a lot of stuff.  Huge thanks to everyone who gave, bought, borrowed, and/or possibly stole all the stuff that we have received for you.  We’ve been given a great start, seeing as we had given away all your siblings stuff when they were no longer babies.  It’s such an odd thing to go from having absolutely nothing to having almost no room to move, and stubbing my toes on all your stuff.  It’s a great feeling, but an odd feeling.

Some Tips:

– Your aunt and uncle bought your all your crib stuff.  Make sure you thank them by being so cute that they get a jump start on this whole baby thing.

– Your grandmother bought you one of your cool strollers (dad basically stole the other one, more on that later).  Make sure you thank her by making her take you on walks with Mr. Parker.

– Your other grandmother bought you tons of clothes.  Make sure you always look cute and don’t throw up, poo, or pee in/on any of them.

– Many of our friends and family bought you all the cool stuff you’ve got.  Make sure you thank them by actually USING it, not just playing with the box.

So now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, HURRY UP!  But not until after this weekend.  Mom’s in a wedding.  It would be very rude of you to attempt show up while she is on the middle of the dance floor.  However, seeing as you’re my kid, well….

Good Luck Charlie, you’re going to need it…

The Real Good Luck Charlie, Chapter 2: Parenting 101

18 Sep

So Charlie, here we are, 1 month from when you have been scheduled to make an appearance.  If you are anything like your sister and brother, you will be a bit early.  This is also the LAST time you will ever be a bit early (again, if you are anything like you sister and brother).  We’ve been real busy getting to this point.  We’ve been organizing, cleaning, washing, installing, and putting things together all in preparation for your arrival.  We also took a birthing class at the hospital.  We did this with your sister 14 years ago, don’t think you’re special.  We do it for all the girls.  We skipped it for the boy.  He was, is, and always will be easier than you two.  About 20 minutes into the class, I had a thought:  What are they actually teaching us?  To tell you the truth, not much.  Rather, they did teach us quite a bit about what to expect during the birthing process.  What they didn’t teach us was ANYTHING about parenting.  Not that the boss or I need any help.  We’ve successfully kept 2 kids alive for 14 and 11 years.  Believe me, that’s no mean feat.  What about the new parents, who don’t have other kids that they figured things out with?  What will they do?  Wing it?  Read stupid books that doesn’t really tell you anything useful?  Probably.  Which led to a second thought:  Could I teach a Parenting 101 class?  Would it be successful?  Would people pay me for the privilege of having the boss and I tell them all the little secrets?

This led me to think about what I would want covered in a Parenting 101 class if there were such a thing.  Here are the basics of what I came up with:

The class would start off with the moms and dads to be in the same room.  We would go over the basics: feeding, diaper changing, clothes changes, what to pack, how to not ever get a mini-van (provided you stay with less than or equal to 3 kids), etc.

Then the men and women would split up.  The men would go with me, the women with your mother.  There the real learning would take place.  The men would learn things like speed diapering, how to hold a beer and feed a baby (and how not to mix them up), clothes wrangling, avoiding getting peed or pooped on, etc.  I guess the women would learn things like how to swaddle, baby powder 101, breast or bottle, couponing while dealing with a fussy baby, etc.

At some point, I suppose the women and men should trade places and go over the same things.

Then we would all come together for a conclusion of some sort, followed by a celebration of some sort.

What do you think?  Do you think people would participate?

As always, Good Luck Charlie, your dad is obviously insane.

In which I discuss the politics of RISK

25 May

I hate politics, yet love strategy games.  Both politics and games have always been a huge part of holiday traditions for my family.  We’re a group of arguers, my family.  We’ll argue anything.  A-N-Y thing.  It doesn’t matter what we believe, or even if we agree with the opposite party.  We’ll argue for the sake of arguing.  It’s what brings us together.  Recently over on Lessons from Teachers and Twits Renee asked, “What are some non-traditional family rituals that bring you joy?”  I of course had to respond.  The following is an expansion of my reply:

Every Christmas and Thanksgiving we get together as a family (no way, really?!?!).  After the presents are opened, dinner had, dishes done, and desert well on the way we all join together to play a game.  We usually play Trivial Pursuit which gives us ample time to argue over the correct answer to a question and to fight like cats and dogs.  We’ve also been known to play Monopoly (until dad lands on my brother’s hotel on Boardwalk and flips the board over), RISK, and more recently Bananagrams.  These are times of family bonding.  And times to ritually destroy each others fragile emotions over board games.

I believe I was 13 or so the first time we played RISK.  Both my brother and I were smart enough to know not to trust dad, yet dumb enough to think that he wouldn’t destroy us given the tiniest chance.  For those not in the know, when playing RISK you basically try to take over the board by chancing dice roles and armies against your opponents armies.  My brother, being twice as competitive as I am, immediately gets into a land war with dad over the control of Australia.  I sit back and collect every territory of South America giving me extra armies at every turn as long as I hold those territories.  Dad picks Latin America as a starting point to try to knock me out of S.A.  I pick North Africa to protect my border.  Eventually all the territories are divvied up and we can begin.  Immediately, my brother attacks my dad to wrest control of Australia away from him.  Dad of course gives him a run for his money.  I fortify my border with Latin America and attack dad, taking him out and gaining control of a crucial border.  We go back and forth winning and losing territories at each turn.  We’re collecting cards, trading them in for extra armies to use to fortify borders all over the world.  Here’s where the politicking comes in to play.  Dad sees himself as the loser in this if things keep going the way they are.  He’s more competitive than my brother is, and HATES to lose (see Monopoly above).  So he starts making deals.  He first tries to get my brother to stand down and allow him to keep Australia.  Failing in this, he makes a pact with me to not attack me for 4 turns if I take my brother out at the Ural Mountains territory.  Stupidly, I agree.  Two turns later, I’ve taken out my brother at the Ural Mountains, drastically depleting my armies in Asia.  He strikes.  First he blows through my defenses at Latin America, then Venezuela, second he switches up and attacks North Africa.  Then abruptly he ends his turn.  “What about our agreement?”  “Yeah, I went and broke that.  I needed you not to have control of South America.”  Eventually I’m wiped out and it becomes a one-sided two person battle for control of the world.  Dad of course wins.  We win a valuable lesson:  We can’t trust dad.  Especially when it comes to board games.  If he can’t win legitimately, he’ll cheat to win.  So now when we play, it’s two on one.  Many times my brother and I are able to take out dad and begin our head-to-head battles.  Occasionally I win however it’s not really about that with me.  It’s about teaming up with my little brother to destroy dad.

Are you competitive?  Does your family get together to play games?  Which ones?  Comment below:

The funny things we say and do

17 May

The following are just some of the funny short stories and sayings from my family:

“Do… Do I poop on the law?”  – The Boy when told that it was the law that he be completely potty trained by age 4 (yes, he’s a late bloomer).

“Damn it!  Damn it!  Damn it!”  – The Girl when she was 2 or 3 and told to put 6 or so stuffed animals onto her bed.  She instead tossed them from her room adding a “Damn it!” to each throw.

“I didn’t want an Ian.  I wanted a Court-a-knee!”  – Me, age 3, when we brought my brother home from the hospital.

“You bought WHAT!”  – Usually Mom.  Occasionally The Wife.  Never from me, or my dad, unless directed at a purchase my dad had foolishly made.

“I’ll just light one more match.  Then I’ll stop.”  – My brother, to be featured in an upcoming blog post entitled, “Playing with Fire.  Part 2”.

“Mom will never find out.”  – Either me or my brother.  She always does….

“BOYS!!!”  – Mom.  See, I told you she always finds out.

“No dad!  Not the knife!  Not the Knife!”  – See yesterdays post

“Mom, we’re play fighting.  We really do love each other!”  – Usually me, as I was beating the crap out of my brother.

“Yeah, you can make it.  No problem.”  – Usually me encouraging my brother to do something stupid.

When my brother was little, he had a terrible temper.  I swear I saw his eyes go blood red on many occasions.  On one of our ski trips, he wasn’t having a great day.  He had fallen and his boot had come off, he had been kicked off the bunny hill for being awesome, etc.  My dad was filming most of these things.  So my dad, being his oh so supportive self, decides to poke the bear.  He taunts my brother about his day, about his falls, etc all while filming my bro.  Funny thing about bears, they poke back.  I think we all almost wet ourselves when my brother grabbed his ski pole and jabbed my dad in the gut.  Watching my dad double over, then fall in the snow was hilarious.  We should have sent it into “America’s Funniest Home Videos”.  We would have won for sure.

Let’s here some of your family’s crazy stories, quotes, and/or sayings.  Leave a comment below:

Happy Mothers Day: Hope you don’t get a colander!

6 May

Wait, what?  What does a colander have to do with Mothers Day?

Quite simply, my dad did something very stupid.  Very, very, VERY stupid.  A very stupid thing in a long line of stupid things.  And people wonder where I get it from….

The Colander Incident or: How mom got super mad on Mothers Day

One Mothers Day when my little brother and I were smart enough to know what to get our mom on Mothers Day, yet penniless to contribute financially, our dad bought her a colander.  But wait!  There’s more!  A colander, a fancy plastic mounts on your cabinet paper towel holder, dish towels, and wooden spoons!  All these things can be yours and more for your crappiest Mothers Day ever!

I can remember telling my dad that mom was going to be super mad if that’s all we got for her.  His reply:  “No she won’t.  She’ll love these things.  Trust me.”  Yeah…  About that…  You know how there are some people in this world that you should automatically trust?  At that point, I realized my dad was not one of these people (Now much later in life, I realize that of course my dad is to be trusted.  Just not with gift buying).

Mothers Day arrives and mom opens her “gifts”.  Is it any wonder why my brother and I both apologized on our cards?  Mom goes BALISTIC!  From that moment on I knew the meaning of: Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.

He can be taught!

Ever since then, my dad has been awesome at buying Mothers Day stuff for my mom.  Usually he gets her jewelry, or lets her pick or what it is she wants.  She gets something shiny, bright, and often useful.  Sort of like a colander.  Huh, maybe I should get my wife one for Mothers Day?

Who says we actually learn life leasons?