Listen here-->

It’s a fairly routine occurrence that something so uniquely petrifying happens. However, it’s not often that you have a chance to write it down. Typically, those random occurrences happen at times when you don’t have the opportunity to even scribble it down in some sort of legible and comprehensible format. Because of that, I usually have to rely on my less-than-reliable memory of the context hours and sometimes days later. My recall then comes into question and I can leave out some integral piece of the story so that during the retell, it makes absolutely no sense.

No worries about that tonight as I’m writing in raw format from something Son #2 did and the effect it left on my wife, myself, and unfortunately for him, Son #1. Now I’ll most likely post this entry a day later, but imagine for a moment you’re in our home, after dinner, on a sunny early evening. The boys have just finished playing outside and I’ve finished tuning my bike in the garage.

To set this up appropriately, I must also set the emotional mood of the evening. An hour earlier, following dinner, which by the way Son #2 wanted nothing to do with, my wife made smores for our consumption in the warm summer air. During this sunset in July, Son #1 and #2 lost their collective minds while eating smores. I don’t mean they were on a sugar high and bouncing off lawn furniture or fence posts. What I mean is that they lost it when melting chocolate and marshmallows oozed onto their manual extremities. You see, neither child likes ‘stuff’ on their hands. With melted, albeit not hot, chocolate on their hands, both kids screeched for help and napkins. Son #1 proclaimed his hatred for such a camping desert. Son #2 bee-lined to the hose and begged for it to be pressurized with water to cleanse his hands.

Keep in mind that both of these children will paint themselves and submerge themselves in mud puddles. So I wouldn’t have expected such an extreme reaction from a confectionary delight such as chocolate, let alone the camping delicacy known as a smore.

So let’s fast forward to bedtime. Both boys know the drill. When it’s time, it’s time. Arguing isn’t allowed but this never stops Son #1 from throwing a fit which I can only equate to spasmatic fish flop like bamboo chutes were under his nails and hot sauce was doused in his eyes. Instead, it’s just the catalyst of bedtime causing the disturbance. Now he’s hungry. Now he’s thirsty. Now he has a sore throat. Now the birds are chirping. Now the garage door is open. The list of reasons goes on. But after we interrupt and let him know that no excuse is going to alter our edict for bedtime, he loses his flipping mind. Remember my description of the fish flop above? Imagine that in a spare bathroom on the cold hard floor. Flailing, he lists his excuses and falls into an unintelligible crying and screaming fit. As he stumbles out of the latrine, Son #2 watches by innocently. Clearly the gears are turning. And then it happens.

Son #2 saunters up to Son #1 while he’s in his strike against being tucked in. And at that moment I honestly thought Son #2 was going to exhibit some sort of compassion for his older brother and console him during the outburst. I couldn’t be more wrong. Son #2 casually approaches in his best I’m-not-going-to-do-anything-wrong posture, stops and points right in his screeching brother’s face and says, “Faking it!”

Son #1 yells back that he’s not. Undaunted by the volume of Son #1 and the threat of dismemberment, Son #2 repeats in the same tone, “Faking It!” At that moment, the wheels fell off and Son #1 began swinging. Nothing connected except for his ass onto a common location in our house for time-outs. Again, Son #2 says, “Faking it!” If it weren’t for Son #1 trying to get all Sugar Ray Leonard on Son #2; I probably would’ve pissed myself. My wife took the younger boy upstairs for bedtime, as passed his older brother; he said it one more time. This left me with a combustible screaming and crying six year old whose feelings are now hurt and his throat is sore. Again, Son #1 makes excuses why he can’t go to bed and how he needs a snack. And in the distance from a floor and rooms apart, I hear the faint, “Faking it!” from Son #2. Here we go again.
With what felt like a month of trying to defuse Son #1, I’m left to just chuckle at Son #2 and his unique ability to push the right buttons on his brother. Son #2 is a jack ass. And I mean that in the most complimentary term of endearment. He couldn’t be any more like me. And while I’ve written a ton about Son #1 here in this entry, you can’t escape the fact that Son #2 is great at getting under your skin. He has the innate gift of something that will piss his brother off. I’ve heard him say things like “Angry!” to provoke his older brother but this was the first time I’ve ever seen him use a diversionary tactic of innocent compassion and approach within striking distance to point right in his older brother’s face and say something as aggravating as “Faking it!” in such a sweet high pitched voice like only a 2 year old can do.

Now I’m not one to wait until marquee moments on the calendar to make changes in my life. I’m an advocate of implementing change when and where it’s needed. However, given my sincere and loathsome disdain for the fortune which the year of 2009 provided, I’m opting for a change in my stubborn behavior.

If you’re reading between the lines here, you’re correct, I’m going to practice the ancient, yet never followed by anyone, tradition of the New Year’s Resolution. I have an elephant load of behavioral modifications which need to be addressed. But in the essence of time and in the honor of actually completing a goal, I’m selecting my five most important targets. I’ve got to keep my goals realistic and reachable. Otherwise, I lose focus. I’m a dad after all.

Most people set unattainable resolutions such as ‘lose weight’ and ‘quit smoking’ and never quite get there. Resolutions become about setting unreasonable goals, never reaching them, and making a person feel like shit. Instead, everyone should to take a hard look in the mirror and consider the serious aspects that need improvements in your life that CAN be met. So let’s talk about the areas where I suck.

1. Exercise patience with the children
While inherently obvious, this challenge is probably the most difficult to succeed at. This resolution is about MY children. I don’t have to be patient with anyone else’s kids because it’s not my fault their kids suck.

In the recent past, I’ve been pulled in so many directions that it’s made it easy to misinterpret Son #2’s screaming and Son #1’s fits as plausible attempts at ruining my life. This isn’t the case.

Both are great little boys and most of my humorous subject matter here is in regard to them. Taking a step back from my misdirected temper will help me enjoy the beautiful moments with my children that will be gone all too soon.


2. Practice acceptance of unchangeable and sometimes intolerable aspects of life
The underscore of this resolution is the simple fact that I can’t control everything. Some shit, I just have to let alone and accept that it ‘is what it is.’

Here’s an example: People who drive motorized vehicles in Washington. I just can’t understand how some people can be licensed to drive metal coffins and be completely oblivious to the world in which they operate them. MANY curse words have been hurled through the air toward this segment of people and their inability to successfully and safely negotiate their equipment.

It’s a waste of my energy to obsess and curse during my commute. Therefore, I’m going to accept the fact that people can’t drive. Just one example of accepting what I can’t change.


3. Focus on balance in my life to reduce the health effects
It’s no secret that 2009 was an energy sapping sycophant when it came to my health. I joked about the fact that it was the only year that I had a flu shot and ended up with the most injuries, maladies, and illnesses of any time in my life.

There was that one year where I had meningitis, three spinal taps, and spent a week in the hospital. But 2009 was holistically worse. It’s obvious that it comes down to my Type A personality and my inability to balance the emotions with the occurrences in my life. Work, home, personal, professional, and etc. are all at fault here. Practice mental and emotional balance.


4. Refuse to join the latest pop culture phenomenon
Late night TV is bludgeoned with some of the worst exercises in advertising. Even worse than the ads are the products being peddled by these ads.

The latest craze: the backward microfiber robe called the Snuggie. With its purchase and adornment, you too can become a recluse that never leaves the house, never get a date for the prom, ruin your child’s social life while wearing it in public, and look like a complete tool. No thanks.


5. Refuse to save 15% on my car insurance
I’m becoming extremely relentless and homicidally violent toward British-accented reptiles, bug-eyed stacks of bills, and Cro-Magnon man with the increased frequency of Geico advertisements on television.

Three annoying ad campaigns don’t make me want to source my insurance needs to this company. Save 15% on my insurance? Eat it. I would rather funnel that 15% of my hard earned cash to an out-of-style vapid country singing insurance agent with State Farm. As disturbing a visual as that is, I’m not subject to the aggressive marketing spin with annoying jingles, slogans, and foreign accents. I’d pay 15% more just to not see hairy guys bowl.


My resolutions for 2010; some appropriate and some just because. Enjoy.

One thing I have never been able to understand, or even control, is my innate ability to be an ass. While it works to my benefit in social situations where I distinctly do not care about what other people think of me and may be trying to sabotage, it tends to backfire when I am spending time with family and want our time to last forever. When the latter of these two scenarios happens, I get fairly overwhelmed with guilt and regret. It is completely unfair to those I love to act this way.

Today was one of those days that seem to eternally haunt me. It started out quite productive by working in the new-son-to-be's room. I had hoped to get the space completed before his birth. Unfortunately, it has been an uphill battle with painting, molding, and decorating. However, I reached a satisfactory level of completeness where I could pick up later. Why I am explaining this will make total sense later, trust me. Back to the story, I moved on, had some breakfast, and waited for my brother in law to arrive.

My brother in law and I took off to the local professional football game. As a season ticket holder, I generally find a lot of joy in watching these matches. I feel like I have some vested interest or ownership in the team. This year has been no different, but the team has been less than competitive. Lately, I have felt like I am paying for some sort of faulty, half-ass product with an expired warranty being put on the field. So I pretty much get pissed off while I am watching. This is not good for anyone around me. I am an ass. We have some people who sit near us that we generally are friends with. Today, I was decent to them. Why? The team was competitive and my mood upbeat. A week ago, this was not the case. The team was losing, the people around us were dirt bag drunk, and I wanted to punch some of them in the mouth. Needless to say, I was much better this week. Hooray for me in acknowledging my ass-like behavior.

The team still lost. Whatever. It's been like that all season. So we headed home. My parents were waiting at my house for me to get home. My father and I were going to work a little more in my new son's room. I came home with a fairly decent attitude (non-ass-like). But that changed. In an instant, I just seem to lose focus and get bitchy about nearly everything. Approach me about a topic I do not want to discuss and immediately I shut down or respond rudely. It is completely unacceptable to behave this way toward the people I love. It happens and I can not seem to run a preemptive strike on it. Then I am coldly reminded by the guilt and regret I feel later after my loved ones leave.

We worked on the projects in my son's room. Things went relatively well considering I had absolutely no idea what I was doing and have an unreasonably high sense of perfection. As a side note, I would warn against EVER working on a project with me because of this. My father is a trooper though. We pounded through this and despite my feelings of imperfection, lost temper, and complete disregard for the level of skill the project required. It turned out well even though I cussed like a sailor along the way. I get frustrated and ultimately the world becomes my toilet bowl. Tonight was no different. My parents understand me but this does not give me the green light to act like an ass. I know that they find a lot of fulfillment in helping around our house and I am very appreciative. But I get fairly upset when projects do not come together or plans do not work out the way I had envisioned. My parents headed home hours ago and I am feeling completely guilty for not being pleasant. I am a dirt bag when I am in a bad mood. This routinely happens and you would think I would have some control over it. Nope.

I hope that I can work on this moving forward. My emotions have been complicated for a few years now, especially when it comes to family. I am an ass. They do not deserve this. Many times I have crawled back with my tail between my legs apologizing. They are very accepting of my attitude. I am fortunate. I know that I make things out worse than they really are. But I must be aware of this issue I have. I can't keep saying well there is always next time. I need to be on top of it now. I love my family. It is all I have.