Your Kids are Growing Up...Believe It or Not

While skipping past my Facebook Timeline’s myriad “I need coffee!” grumbles most mornings and “I need wine!” laments later in the days, I’ve discovered another type of social media declaration that has even more of a nails-on-a-chalkboard effect on me: when parents denote their child’s birthday by saying things like “I can’t believe it’s been 9 years since my hilarious, mischievous, handsome and effervescent Little Johnny was born”.

No, I’m not a Grinch who hates birthdays, children or adjectives. Rather I’m a father who is totally enamored with and constantly amazed by my children, as I’d hope my friends and acquaintances would be by theirs. My two boys leave me in a perpetual state of awe. The Little Dude is 4 ½ years old and I can believe that because I’ve lived it. Day-in and day-out, through better and worse. 

4 1/2 years in the blink of an eye

His almost-2-year-old brother, the Littler Dude, started walking recently, which is one of the most incredible early developmental milestones for a parent to witness. Watching your child trying to figure out how to graduate from being a totally immobile food-recycling lump into a quasi-self-sufficient-being in a matter of months is magical. It seems like eons ago when we watched the Littler Dude eagerly observing his older brother running around outside, while grunting to express how badly he wanted to join him. Willing himself to accomplish that goal, that mission to keep up with his idol, in such a relatively short amount of time was a look into the soul of hope.

2 years

So when people compose a status update like “I can’t believe my bubbly, clever, generous, ornery Tatiana is 8 months old today!” I always think of the preposterously named I Can’t Believe It’s Not Butter. If you can’t believe that oozing yellow goop is not butter, either you’ve never actually tasted butter or your taste buds have been brainwashed into thinking that some artificial faux-dairy product tastes better and is healthier for you, when in reality its ingredients are nearly as plastic as the container it comes in. In order to believe, we must open our mind’s taste buds to savor the complexity of our intellectual manna.

Being a parent is easily the greatest gift in the world (beside a Ferrari), but what makes it incredible is actually experiencing the emotional hills and valleys that make a life lived. Of course those journeys happen at breakneck speed to make us appreciate how fortuitous we as parents truly are. As a wise man once said “Life moves pretty fast, if you don’t stop and look around once in a while you could miss it.” Ferris Bueller yearned to maximize every moment of his journey and I strive to do the same with and for my family. I’m wistfully aware that my 4 ½ year-old son has already used up about ¼ of his time at home with Mrs. Dude and me before he hopefully heads to college. It’s that rapid changing of the calendar that frequently makes me reminisce about some of my own life’s adventures that seem like they recently occurred, yet it’s only when I stop to reflect that I realize they were really 10 years ago. Or 20. Or 30.

For me, parenting has been challenging, stressful, messy, sticky and infinitely more. And that’s just in the last hour. I’m beyond lucky to have my Junior Dudes and their wonderful mother as my companions for the odyssey that comprises the story of our family, wherein time is merely a subjective factor in the grand equation that is our life. As parents we often watch the clock for things like “is there really still 20 weeks left of this pregnancy?” or “will my child ever sleep that extra hour so I’m 3% less of a zombie tomorrow?” But the reality is that time is what we make of it. Everyone is allotted the same 24 hours per day, yet those 60-minute blocks seem to move supersonically as we age. Since there is no way to slow them down we must Carpe the hell out of our finite number of Diem to make sure we savor each treasured moment before they slip away.

Just when I’ve gotten used to the Little Dude going to preschool, he’ll soon move up to Pre-Kindergarten while his brother starts at the same school, coincidentally where their grandmother took their mother over three decades ago. I understand the disbelief so many friends claim to feel regarding their children’s growth and empathize. Time does move fast.  Certainly much faster than desired through these prized early moments. That’s why I attempt to savor each one, for though we don’t know what’s coming next we must buckle our seatbelts and be ready for the adventure.  

I can’t believe there’s anything better than that.  

*****************************************

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Not My Final Blog Post

In my recent blog post titled My Final Blog Post, I talked about some issues I've grappled with lately and how that frustration has impacted not only my psyche, but also my blogging. I also talked about my desire to spend more time with my kids than blogging about them and truly thought that my 195th post might be my swan song. 

In that post, I shared some more-revealing-than-usual thoughts with my audiences throughout the social media world and was blown away by the response. I received nothing but support and encouragement from a much larger than expected number of people. Some are bloggers who I know in real life and have gone through similar scenarios. Some are people I only know in cyberspace who took the time to encourage me to keep doing what I'm doing as long as I feel my priorities are in order. 

I received several notes on my Facebook timeline and on Google+, which I was convinced no one ever looks at, but also private emails from people who'd said that I'd helped them through their own parenting struggles via my posts. That I'd made them laugh and cry when I've done both of those things, too. That my stories about parenting encouraged them to take a closer look at their own relationships and how they get along with their families. I was stunned. 

All this time, I thought I was doing something wrong, but the reality is the exact opposite of that. I was doing things right, but looking at them the wrong way. This blog is simply a tool, a conduit for me to express my thoughts, feelings, dreams and aspirations. It's a place that the Little & Littler Dudes can look back upon one day many years from now on their Google Eyeballs or iHelmets and see how their lives were in times that they certainly won't remember. 

It's taken me almost two years to figure out what this blog is "about". I've been asked that question countless times, and have always answered something like "it's about me raising my Junior Dudes and our wacky adventures...". And that is partially accurate. But I've recently discovered the real answer, which is that it's about my journey down the long road to happiness. Life isn't easy and raising a family isn't either. Throw in some career transitions like I’ve had and you've got a recipe for Life Jambalaya.  Over the last two years I've been hyper-focused on page views, LIKEs, Tweets and all kinds of things that don't really matter as much as me just having a place to be me and talk about my favorite people in the world. 

If you want to join me on my journey, I'd love to have you along for the ride. It will likely be very turbulent, but I will try my best to make it fun, too. Hold on to your hat, I have a feeling it’s going to be a long strange trip.  

Me and my inspiration,
aka the Junior Dudes

My Final Blog Post?

When I started this blog nearly two years ago, I was doing it to scratch an itch to write that captivated me during college and inspired my move to Los Angeles 12 years earlier. I really didn’t think anyone would ever read anything I wrote. Even the lovely Mrs. Dude rarely even reads my posts unless I specifically point one out to her. It’s not that she’s not interested, it’s because she’s busy. And so am I, which is both the reason I haven’t blogged much lately and also why I’m not sure if I will continue to do so for very much longer.

My first blog post was written when the Little Dude was 19 months old and still napped in 3 hour blocks every afternoon. He continued that pattern throughout my first year of blogging, which always gave me plenty of time to write about the hi-lar-ious things toddlers do. But last summer everything changed. First, we moved him from a crib to a big-boy bed. And second, his brother, the Littler Dude, was born.

At face value, I assumed that neither of those events would have much impact on my schedule but I couldn’t have been more wrong. When no longer bound to the spatial limitations and high walls of his beloved baby cage, the Little Dude deemed that naps were no longer necessary, much to the chagrin of his mother and me. But there was nothing we could do. We tried forcing the issue, but if he fell asleep it was for a very short time and we usually had to spend a longer period just trying to get him to go to sleep than the duration of the actual sleep. So we cut out naps and instituted an afternoon chill period, which usually consisted of watching Toy Story or Toy Story 2. Every freakin’ day. And as someone who is easily distracted, I have a hard time focusing with a lot of external noise nearby, even if it’s just Buzz and Woody, so I started writing at night after he went to bed. That time block was subsequently eradicated a month later when the Littler Dude arrived. Goodbye, blog.

In a Facebook post shortly before baby #2 arrived, I asked my page what to do to prepare for our new arrival. Beyond countless people urging me to sleep, sleep and sleep, a blogger friend named The Robot Mommy suggested I stockpile blog posts for when I had no time to write. I shrugged that off, telling myself that #2 was bound to be the good sleeper his brother was, so I’d have plenty of free time.  And the Littler Dude is a decent napper, but there is only one problem: his brother is still awake during those nap periods. And with energetic 3 ½ year old toddlers there is minimal downtime. I’m just thankful for the Pixar DVD catalog for some small respites it has brought me and Mrs. Dude over the last seven months.

So my struggle to find free time has definitely hindered my creative productivity. And I hate that. But I’ve been thinking a lot about a “chicken or egg” conundrum that has furthered my inactivity around these parts. The big question is: should I spend more time away from my kids to focus on my blog about parenting, or should I spend that time actually parenting my kids so that I have something to blog about even though I’ll subsequently have no time to write it?

I started this blog at a major crossroads in my life. My mother had recently passed away. I was just starting a promising job opportunity. I had started writing again after an extended break and inspiration grabbed me like a whirlwind and wouldn’t let go. Oh, and I had a spirited pre-toddler on my hands. Seemed like a Royal Flush, but now two years later I have a Full House and don’t know what to do.

That job didn’t turn out how I thought it would and now I have begun searching for a new opportunity. My blog has seen its share of ups and downs. I’ve had several exciting blogging opportunities come around, but haven’t hit the big time yet, not that I ever expected to. But I am responsible for 3 mouths to feed, beyond my own which is the lowest priority, and now must begin anew. Again. I have started putting out feelers again, but haven’t yet found that great job that will send me to Hawaii on a monthly basis to write about the quality of massages at luxury hotels. So now I have a greater conundrum on my hands. Do I spend my time focusing on raising my family and blogging about it or finding a better way to support this family, so that we can move onward and upward and finally begin living the life we’ve always wanted. Mrs. Dude and I have got the two great kids and our health and those are two remarkably lucky things. It’s just everything else that we now find ourselves searching for. Will I find it on my computer screen after another endless web search? Or might it be lurking in the satisfaction of helping the Little Dude learn to read?

In an ironic coincidence, as I was typing that last sentence and trying to think of a way to wrap this up, the Little Dude just arrived home from the park and excitedly ran in to see me, so my writing time is over for today. But one look at his smiling face makes it all worthwhile and reminds me why I do the things I do. All of them. I’ll be back soon to tell you more. . .

What would you do if put in my position? 

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Bonding

It’s early. An hour at which no one should be awake and moving except paperboys and roosters. I’m lying in a small bed with my 3 year old Little Dude and the invisible flu bug he brought home from preschool, which he kindly and unintentionally shared with me.

He's tired, hot and achy but doesn't know how to express what his body is feeling. Facing each other, I notice he’s grasping one of his beloved Hot Wheels tightly in each hand. For strength or comfort, they are with him. As am I. I subtly turn on the white noise machine again, hoping it will coax a few more minutes of sleep out of him for his weary body. And mine, as well. I’ve gotten used to running on empty, but doing so while fighting off illness is a different battle. Another hour of sleep right now would be better than winning the lottery. And I could really use the money.

As the sound of artificial waves crashing upon a distant artificial beach repeats, I pick up my iPhone and sigh as I look at the ridiculously low numbers its clock is displaying.  It's so early that my friends 3 hours ahead on the East Coast haven’t yet begun sharing their pictures of omelets or tales of getting stuck in traffic on Facebook to entertain me.

Resting our stuffy heads on fluffy adjoining pillows, I hope that the source of the flu was at least fun for him while being an evil conduit. Was it the swings on the playground or the school’s lunchroom? Or the grocery store cart’s handle?  We’ll never know.

Though I hope for more rest, as I was just up feeding his newborn brother an hour ago, I know it's unlikely any time in the foreseeable future. As my eyelids bounce heavily, simultaneously trying to sleep and stay awake, I feel something rolling up slowly up my neck like a tarantula in a bad horror movie would. Thankfully it’s only a Hot Wheels monster truck cruising before parking on my congested scalp.

I put down my iPhone, as it needs rest too, and watch my son. He looks at me as we cough together.

This is bonding.

Grumpy Grammys

After making a seemingly innocuous joke on my Facebook page yesterday:

Several people gave me a hard time about my comment, and even though I’m usually immune to peer pressure, I flipped the telecast on while I did some work.

You should know by now that I am a big music fan, but the great majority (probably at least 90%) of what I like was written and recorded before 1990. I’m not saying that all music today sucks, but come on, have you heard Call Me Maybe? That song is so dumb and completely illogical. No kids today actually call each other. It should have been called Skype Me Maybe or Text Me, LOL.  Either way, it would have been dumb, but at least more contextually accurate.

I missed the first chunk of the show while putting the Little Dude to bed, but put it on in time to see Rihanna sing some song I’d never heard before. I don’t know if it was good or bad because all I could look at was her wig that looked like she shaved a lion’s mane and slapped it on her head.

Call me Simba

Shortly after her performance, Jay-Z, Frank Ocean and a guy who looked like he’d been found in the dumpster behind my college dorm won an award. Congrats.

Homeless chic

The Black Keys were up next and I have to admit, I just don’t understand their music. They grew up in my hometown and are a couple years younger than me, and in theory they play the type of music I’d like. It’s just too loud. Or I’m too old. Listening to it makes me want to eat lunch at 4:30pm.

A cute young lady named Bruno Mars sang some dreck before Sting jumped in and took over with the bass intro to Walking on the Moon. Finally a song I know. (Of course it’s almost 30 years old.) Then Ziggy and Damian Marley jumped on stage for a tribute to their father. Pretty good, though I recently learned that Ziggy Marley’s real name is David, so he’s a couple notches less cool than before.

The Lumineers performed Ho Hey, which I only knew because I’d them seen on Saturday Night Live recently. Not a horrible song, but their attire couldn’t have been any more hipster cliché unless they were actually wearing Zooey Deschanel.

Prince showed up to present an award while dressed as Jackie Onassis and carrying the Mister Peanut’s cane. What ever happened to the badass Prince who just liked to wear a lot of purple velvet? Yes, I miss the ‘80s.

 Can you tell who is who?

Speaking of purple velvet, I dug John Mayer’s homage to Gene Wilder’s Willy Wonka.

John Mayer's date brought the Golden Globes to the Grammys this year.

The tributes to rockers who passed over the last year came next, and that was the highlight of the night. Elton John, Mavis Staples and some other youngsters I didn’t know paid tribute to Levon Helm with a great performance of The Weight.  I paid tribute to Levon 9 months ago with that song, so you can say that the producers copied me. But where were Helm’s surviving Band-mates Robbie Robertson and Garth Hudson? Probably up on Cripple Creek.

Some other awards were distributed before Frank Ocean slapped on his yellow suit and became Forrest Gump for a song apparently called Forrest Gump. Cool video illusion of Frank running and I bet he was thankful that wearing that sweatband finally paid off.

Adele handed out an award, but frankly all I could think about was how she looked like she stole my 97-year-old Aunt Adele’s linens. They say becoming a parent makes you grow up, but it seems she aged 70 years in 4 months.

To close the show, LL Cool J, Chuck D and some others sang (rapped?) some hip hop. It wasn’t Mama Said Knock You Out, so I lost interest quickly.

The show ended and while I was glad I watched, I wish I knew a few more songs performed. Actually, not really. Fun seems like a decent band, but why does their guitarist have Forrest Gump’s haircut? I also wish there had been less Ryan Seacrest.  Seriously: is there a show on TV that he’s not on?

The Grammys were like the previously mentioned Mister Gump’s famous box of chocolates. Though beforehand I had an idea what I was gonna get and I wasn’t too far off. I can hardly wait until next year.  

What were your highlights and lowlights from this year's Grammy Awards? 

The Dude’s Guide to Surviving Your First Year of Parenthood

I recently shared my words of wisdom with you on how to survive your first pregnancy.  So now that you have made it through the delivery and are home with your adorable bundle of sleep deprivation, you are probably wondering what happens next.  I fully expected my Little Dude to be ready to play when we took him out of the box, so to speak, but I learned the hard way that that’s not how it really works.  So I’ve put together a handy primer on what to expect after you are done expecting, or

The Dude’s Guide to Your First Year of Parenthood:

1)      The first year is boring.  Really boring.  I’m not saying the kid isn’t amazing, because he* undoubtedly is. But if you’re expecting him to do tricks right away, like your puppy did when you brought him home, then you will be very disappointed.  In fact, you shouldn’t expect much activity from him at all for at least 6 months. You know the saying “a watched pot never boils”? It’s sort of the same thing here but with less scalding water and many more unpleasant excretions.

2)      Go to parks. You may feel depressed as you watch bigger kids running and playing on the swings and jungle gym while your little lump is just drooling on his Sophie, but the fresh air is good for him and soon enough he’ll be the one on the slide and you’ll be the experienced veteran who the other new parents will want to trade places with.  

Me with 6 month old Little Dude and an empty playground.

3)      Be flexible. As long as you feed, change and wash the baby on a semi-regular basis (each at least once a week), there’s a good chance he won’t break. Let him adjust to your schedule, not the other way around. If you assume he will sleep at the same exact time every day, you may get lucky. Or you may end up with a Gremlin who becomes evil after midnight.

4)      Speaking of sleep, the baby needs a lot of it.  Especially in the beginning. Who says it can’t occur while you are at a movie, restaurant, or roller derby? If you train the baby to only sleep at home in a quiet room where the temperature is exactly 72 degrees, then you will end up with cabin fever faster than an Eskimo in an avalanche.

5)      Don’t lose your mind. Once the sleep deprivation kicks in, you won’t remember your middle name half the time, let alone when you last changed or fed the baby. Get an itzbeen**. Hit a button to start a timer reminding you exactly when you last changed his diaper (among other things) and you won’t have a baby sitting in more rancid liquid than a month-old matzah ball.  

6)       Read to your kid. You will be so sick of Goodnight Moon within a few weeks that you wish the two little kittens would attack the old lady that’s whispering hush just to make things interesting for a change, but it’s good for the baby to get both the bonding time with you and the vocabulary stimulation. You will start to think Dr. Seuss is really Dr. Kevorkian as you grow bored to tears reading Hop on Pop for the millionth time, but your little one will like it and one day be glad you suffered for him.

7)      Play good music for your baby. If you think typical kids’ music is enjoyable, then maybe you should get checked out by Dr. Seuss. Or Dr. Kevorkian. There is a ton of great rock music that works very well for kids: The Beatles, Bob Marley and Phish just to name a few.  Believe me, the 10^th time in a row you hear Buffalo Soldier is infinitely better than the 10^th consecutive round of Baby Beluga. (And check my “Rockin’ Friday” blog posts every week for a great song your kid will love. Guaranteed to please or your money back.)

8)      There are a million milestones you’ll consider earth-shattering.   Most really aren’t. First steps or first tooth, sure. First bite of asparagus?  Not so much. Put things in perspective and focus on things that the kid will want to remember someday, not trivial things that will bore even the most biased grandparents.

First time in a Bumbo...who cares?!

9)      Don’t make your friends hate you.  I mean Facebook friends, of course.  Sharing a few pictures here and there is one thing. Uploading 50 pictures three times a week will clog News Feeds and surely earn you a few well-deserved De-friendings.

10)   TV won’t kill them. I’m not talking about a 12-hour Jersey Shore marathon. Lord knows that could turn an astrophysicist’s brain into Jell-o halfway through. But there is nothing wrong with a few minutes of screen time here and there if it’s something educational that might benefit them in the long run.  And you in the short term if you need to take a shower for the first time in three days.

What advice would you give to first-time new parents?

*= I use “he” to refer to the child because that’s what I have. Also, I hate saying “he or she” repeatedly. This list applies to female infants, as well.

**= itzbeen didn’t pay me to say that, though I wouldn’t mind if they did. Or at least sent me a new itzbeen for Baby #2. Their product truly helped restore sanity in my house on a daily basis during the Little Dude’s first year.

You Know You're a SAHD if...

For the past 2 ½ years I’ve been lucky to be a part-time Stay-At-Home-Dad (SAHD). On a daily basis it’s afforded me the pleasure of interacting both with those who whine and cry all day, as well as toddlers. I’ve spent a surprising amount of time doing things that I never could have imagined just a few years ago. Like watching the same 3 Pixar movies over and over. And over and over. And that’s just in one day. 

The reality is that being a SAHD is a gift. I get to spend quality time with my Little Dude and not worry about the stains on my shirts while out in public, which strangers (usually incorrectly) assume were caused by him. During a recent viewing of Cars, I started thinking about some of the unique characteristics of SAHDs and came up with this short list. 

“You Know You’re a SAHD if...”  

1)     You own what you refer to as your "good" sweatpants.

2)     You know about all of the "kids eat free" deals at nearby restaurants and exchange birthday cards with the manager at your local IHOP.

3)     Sometimes you want to go where everybody knows your name and that place is MyGym.

4)     You like taking your kids to story time at the library so you can get caught up on 5 games of Words With Friends while they listen to a librarian read 5 books about talking elephants.

5)     Your most recent Facebook status update was "jklljhhhhlppnnn".

6)     You used to know the names and statistics of all your favorite athletes. Now you know the names and numbers of Thomas the Train and his friends.

7)     Your Breaking Bad episodes have accidentally been deleted from your TiVo to make room for additional episodes of Super Why.   

8)     You are more than a little freaked out by your kid’s seemingly innocuous toys after repeated viewings of Toy Story.

9)     The backseat of your car contains more Cheerios than the General Mills factory.

10)  You think Sesame Street jumped the shark when Mr. Noodle's brother Mr. Noodle joined the cast. 

11)  You can justify why dunking your head in the sink and some strategically placed baby powder are just as good as a real shower.

12)  You have plenty of time to finish writing a list like this. At 1:30am.

What unique traits do you associate with SAHDs and SAHMs?

Life of Dude

With Father’s Day coming up, the great Life of Dad website is running a “30 Days of Dads” series, profiling a different father-ish blogger each day. And lo and behold, they picked me for one of the days. I know, it’s almost as hard to believe as that that’s not butter.  

CLICK HERE to check out my brief interview about what makes me such an amazing parent.

And my required drink of choice to help me get through the days.

Thanks to Tommy for including me in this series!

You should definitely follow Life of Dad on FACEBOOK and TWITTER.  

Pop Tart French Toast Soufflé

I’m not a good cook. I’m an even worse baker. I’ve got a few items in my wheelhouse that I can make for my gang, and “cooking” most of them usually involves adding water to something powdery from a box. I am quite adept at microwaving frozen stuff, however. If I don't burn it, does that count as cooking?

Fortunately I’m married to a wonderful cook and an even better baker. Her Gooey Cake is legendary around these parts, but that’s a tale for another day. One of her specialties is breakfast, which is luckily the one meal of the day that my super-picky Little Dude always enjoys. She makes great pancakes, waffles, etc. from scratch.  I wanted to make her cookies from scratch once, but couldn’t figure out which aisle they keep the scratch in at the supermarket, so my plan was foiled.

Anyway, this weekend my wife made something amazing and the response to a picture of it was so tremendous on my Facebook page that I had to share it with everyone. And only partially because I’m hoping that you’ll make it and invite me over.  

It’s called Pop Tart French Toast Soufflé and here’s how you make it, straight from Mrs. Dude (with a few helpful notes from me in parentheses):

Prep time: 15 minutes

Total Time 1 hour 10 minutes

Ingredients:

1/3 cup firmly-packed Brown Sugar

2 Tbsp. Butter

2 Tbsp. Maple Syrup

8 Kellogg’s Frosted Brown Sugar Cinnamon Pop Tarts (you could get the store brand “Toaster Pastries”, but 

they usually suck) 

1/3 cup Raisins

1/3 cup Pecans, chopped (I hate pecans, so she didn’t use them.  It’s stellar nonetheless.)

4 Eggs

1 cup Fat-Free Half-and-Half  (I’ve always wondered why they can’t come up with a better name than “half-and-half”. It’s like calling Sprite “Lemon-and-Lime”.)

1 tsp. Vanilla

1 Tbsp. Powdered Sugar

In a small saucepan, combine brown sugar, butter and syrup. Cook and stir over medium heat until sugar dissolves in about 3-5 minutes. Pour into an 8x8x2-inch baking dish. Cut Pop Tarts into fourths. Arrange half on top of the brown sugar mixture. Sprinkle with raisins and pecans. Top with remaining Pop Tart pieces (i.e. whatever you haven’t already “tasted to make sure it’s still good”).

In a medium bowl, whisk together eggs, half-and-half and vanilla. Pour over mixture in baking dish. Bake (uncovered), at 350 degrees Fahrenheit (does anyone reading this have an oven that cooks in Celsius?) about 40 minutes. Let stand for 10 minutes. Sprinkle with powdered sugar. Devour like a supermodel after a juice cleanse. Refrigerate any leftovers.

Makes 8 servings (unless I’m one of the people eating it, then it makes about 3-4 servings).

Please let me know if you give it a shot and what you think.  What other flavor Pop Tarts would you try?

Enjoy!

DISCLOSURE: Pop-Tarts didn't pay me to write this or even give me any free products, though I wouldn't mind if they did. I've just been a big fan of their products for most of my life, and want all of my friends to experience something this amazing. 

 

Goodbye Blue Sky

In light of the recent tragedy at Chardon High School, I feel a pain that is difficult to truly express.  As a parent it’s hard to fathom that something like that could happen at any time and place to my innocent child. As someone who spent a considerable amount of time in Chardon while growing up, it’s just plain shocking.

It’s no secret that ours is a crazy world.  Incidents and accidents happen every day that unexpectedly and permanently separate loved ones.  Even though these situations are not preventable, they are no less tragic.

When T.J. Lane approached a table of random students in his school cafeteria last week and opened fire, he unexpectedly changed the course of countless lives. And not just the lives of his victims and their families, either.  The effects of his actions will have repercussions for decades to come. What if one of those three kids who died was the person who was ultimately going to cure cancer? Or become President?  How will the parents and siblings of these teens be affected by their loss for the rest of their lives?  

As my Little Dude is only 2, he is pretty much with either me or my wife 99% of the time.  But we are looking into pre-schools for him and it’s a scary thought.  I can’t fathom him being away from both of us, even if it’s only for a few hours each day.  Because once he is out of sight, I won’t be able to protect him and that’s really the ultimate mission of parents. 

T.J. Lane was charged with aggravated murder and has already admitted shooting his classmates and will be tried as an adult, so he’ll likely be locked up for a long time if not the rest of his life.  But sadly at 17, his life is already over, which is a tragedy unto itself.   It makes me wonder if this tragedy could have been prevented.  Did his parents, teachers, siblings and friends (if he had them) really miss all the warning signs? How did he get a gun and bullets?  I’m sure this will all be revealed during the course of his trials, but we’ll probably never really know the real motivation.

So why did this story affect me more than others?  The news was especially shocking to me because whenever you hear about these situations it’s usually somewhere else far away. If you live in Florida, it’s in Idaho. If you’re in Wyoming, it’s in Virginia, etc. Yes, I live in California, but I grew up in Northeastern Ohio and spent many amazing summers going to camp in Chardon.

Chardon was always a sleepy town at the end of a long two-lane road, known primarily for its maple syrup.   It’s not far from Cleveland, but not around the corner either.  My memories of Chardon include a perfectly blue sky during the day time and a million stars at night.  It was a magical place and I am lucky to still have friends that I made there 25+ years ago.  Some that I talk to regularly, some only occasionally via Facebook. Regardless, they are part of a large support system that I’ve been very lucky to have. People I could talk to when problems arise, or when I’m feeling down.  It’s tragic that T.J. Lane didn’t have that and as a result Chardon will never be the same.  

I'm once again linking up with a great panel of writers at Yeah Write #48. 

Come find some great new material and vote for your 3 favorites:

Who Likes Chocolate?

On the Jewish holiday Passover, we ask “Why is this night different from all other nights?”.  The question is answered and the evening moves on toward an ultimately very bland meal.  So on this February 15^th, I’ll ask you how your Valentine’s Day was different from all other days? 

My V-Day consisted of a dinner of Kraft Mac and Cheese and an exhausted wife who passed out while I was brushing my teeth.  I can’t blame her, though. Between the flossing, brushing and Listerine the process takes almost an hour.  But I’d rather spend the time doing that, then driving to see my dentist, Dr. Quiverfinger, again.

We did have lunch at one of our favorite restaurants that we rarely get to anymore. Sure, my brother who was visiting from out of town was there.  As was an antsy 2 year old that I had to stop from knocking over the giant gumball machine more than once, but that was all part of the fun. It would have been much less fun if I’d had to spend $500 on gumballs and a new machine.  

Speaking of gumballs, which I’ve never understood the appeal of since the taste wears off before the gum hits your tongue, we are going to try something new today.  Thanks to The Sweet Spot, I am going to host a special giveaway for some lucky readers. 

Do you like chocolate? If not, does someone you live with or know?  In my house, I’m the only one who does and since my pants barely fit anymore, I’m going to share these treats with you. The Sweet Spot donated some fancy chocolate hearts and some fancier shiny metallic pink chocolate orbs that I’m going to find new homes for.  This isn’t the cheap stuff either.  This is super-fancy schmancy chocolate, according to some chocolate experts I know (my tongue and my stomach). 

So what do you have to do to win?  Cash helps.  Just kidding. A new car would be nice.

Actually, the first thing is you must LIKE The Dude of the House on Facebook and/or follow me on Twitter. If you do both, you just increased your chances of winning by having two entries. Pretty easy, huh?

Want a third chance to win? Go to my blog, select a RANDOM blog entry from any month in 2011 (link to all posts is on the top, right margin of each blog page where it says "All the Dude's Posts") and leave a comment about it. Tell me what you thought about it, what you liked or didn’t like.  As part of your comment, tell me that you wish to be entered into the random drawing.

OK, not enough options? Thanks to a reader named Staci's suggestion, whoever refers the most people to my Facebook page also wins. So when you tell your friends to come visit, tell them to say "Herschel Krustofsky sent me" or "XYZ Blog sent me". Fellow bloggers can win too. Because I know they really need the chocolate to come down from all the Red Bull. 

So when do you get your chocolate, because YOU are sure to win? After I reach 1,000 Facebook “Likes” and 1,000 Twitter followers, I’ll choose the winners at random (other than the "most referral" winner). It’s not that hard. If everyone tells a friend or 50, we could get there by dinnertime. Up to you.  Until then, I’m going to finish the half-price Christmas candy I still have around the house. OK, it’s actually from Halloween. I mean Easter.

Thanks and good luck! 

Fine print: Winners must respond within 48 hours of being notified or I will pick new winners. I pick which prize you get. Trust me, they are all good. No whining. 

My First 10K

As I sit here today deciding whether or not to renew my gym membership, you know there’s no way I actually ran a 10K, right? Over the weekend my blog passed 10,000 page views since I launched it last summer. At the time, I was just trying to put some thoughts on paper for the first time in years.  Well, not actual paper. Virtual paper, I guess.  As the folks at Dunder Mifflin know, no one really needs real paper anymore.  

Why I do everything I do.

On July 4^th 2011, it all started with: "Independence Day means I'm free to work on this!".  I felt a rush of inspiration, like Angelina Jolie watching Slumdog Millionaire.  Since I have two wonderful subjects to write about: my wife and son, I sat down and started writing. It felt great to be creative again.  I figured that I could write whatever I wanted, assuming that no one would ever see it. And I’m glad I was wrong about the latter. 

I’ve met some great bloggers who’ve guided me along the way.  And I’ve been fortunate to find some loyal readers for my little page. Or I guess you’ve found me. How did you discover me anyway?  

As my life has evolved so have my posts.  I know they aren’t all great, but then again neither is every episode of The Simpsons and that’s been on TV for 20 years.  I put everything I have into each post and am thrilled to receive your comments and feedback.

My posts seem to strike a nerve every so often. My recent post “The Last First” became my all-time 2^nd most viewed post within two weeks of publishing. That’s pretty great. It also helped me win my first award. Check it out:  

If you have any ideas for future blog posts, or anything else you want to talk about please feel free to leave a comment below.  One of my favorite posts:  "What is a Dude?" spawned from a conversation with one of my readers.

To those of you who Like and Follow me on Facebook and Twitter: Thank you for wasting your time at work with me. I can’t think of anything better for you to do between 9 and 5. I'm sure your boss can’t either.   (If you don’t Like/Follow me, what are you waiting for? Here’s a personal invitation.)

When I started this blog I had absolutely no expectations of anyone even finding it on the web.  And now, I’m thrilled that you have -- over TEN THOUSAND times --  and hope you’ll hang out for a while.  And if you want to bring a few friends to the party, I’ll buy the next round. 

Thanks for helping me hit 10,000!

-- Jay aka The Dude of the House

Not My Fantasy

Much better to look at than
angry Browns fans.

As the football season winds down, I quietly wish to myself that the players’ strike would have continued and canceled the season. No, I don’t hate football. But maybe then my poor Cleveland Browns might have been spared another embarrassing season where there best chance for a victory might have been playing against a Lingerie Football League team. It’s been so long since they were good that when they last made the playoffs I couldn’t even brag about it on Facebook, because Facebook wouldn’t be invented until a few years later.

Like most Clevelanders, I’m a die-hard Browns fan. But that’s pretty much where my football interest ends. Other than a few former Ohio State players, I don’t follow the NFL too closely. Living on the west coast and having a 2 year old whose patience lasts almost as long as the play clock means I rarely get the chance to watch the Browns anymore so I keep up via the internet.  And given how terrible they usually are, that’s generally more than sufficient.

But over the last 4 months, I’ve been exposed to a never ending barrage of football information. No, I don’t lurk on NFL.com or ESPN.com.  This dearth of info is all over Facebook and Twitter from friends who are a part of the billion dollar Fantasy Football world.

Personally, I don’t fantasize about 6’6” 300 pound sweaty dudes.  Never have. So I’ve never played Fantasy Football. I don’t think there is anything wrong with it, though, either. I did play Fantasy Baseball for a few years and retired as league champion a few years ago.  (Side note: Fantasy Baseball is much more difficult since there are more than 10 times as many games in an MLB season versus an NFL season.)

What shape is this thing anyway?

A lot of people think that Fantasy Football is just a bunch of guys sitting around, drinking beer and gambling. I’m sure that describes the majority of  leagues, but many are non-traditional as well. I know a group of guys who have had a competitive FF league for many years. Their wives and girlfriends got fed up of having to hear them yapping about it and several years ago formed their own competing league.  These women were like the Susan B. Anthonys of Fantasy Football. Except their fantasy winnings are worth much more than old Susie’s awkwardly shaped coins. 

That being said, I did enjoy Fantasy Football this season in an unusual way.  I started noticing a trend of interesting Facebook posts each Sunday throughout the season. I started keeping a log of the best ones and they seemed to get better as the season progressed.

Some were as innocuous as: 

“Thank you Drew Brees!”  after a big Saints win.

Some were filled with a tremendous lack of confidence: 

“According to my fantasy football league predictions, I should win tomorrow's game by 5 pts. That usually means I'm gonna lose by 30.”

(Written by a fellow Browns fan, so the football pessimism is inherent.)

Some were battles for family bragging rights: 

“Any advice on who to start from my pool of crappy RB's? Need to pick two - hoping to beat my husband in fantasy. (Don't worry, my receivers are much better). I've got Barber, Tolbert, DeAngelo Williams, and Ingram. Thoughts?”    
(Sounds like there’s more than just family bragging rights at stake.)

And some were just so crazy that they sought help from above:

“Dear Fantasy Football Gods - I need a favor. Can Dwayne Bowe please catch a 94 yard pass? He can't score, though. I need him to fumble so that the Raiders D can pick up the ball and then return it for a TD. Got it? Thanks.”                            
(Written by a friend who is a Detroit Lions fan, so it's not surprising he was looking for divine intervention given their shocking season.)

Brady Quinn was a bust before the
2nd round even began.

As for me, Fantasy Football will continue to be hoping that the Browns’ upcoming first round pick doesn’t break his leg while jumping for joy after his name is called at the draft. 

Are you a Fantasy nut? 

What's the craziest thing you've done 

for your league?

Thanks for reading The Dude of the House! 

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