Turning Mozzarella Sticks into Merry Poopins

When I was new to LA after matriculating in Ohio, going out was a way of life. I was young and naïve and the Sunset Strip was just a few blocks away. Going out on the town was the best, and the worst. And being a young single guy, the winter holiday season was always filled with festive nights out filled with no shortage of flowing beverages and hors d’oeuvres. I remember one particular New Years Eve spent with a group of pals at a spicy cantina called Senorita’s. Back then my patience for crowds was thick and my stomach was eager to sample my newly discovered passion for Mexican cuisine. Those nights, and their subsequent mornings after, weren’t as painless as in college, but were still manageable for a youngish dude. Perhaps that’s because that era, around the turn of the millennium, was when I began seeking comfort with a tasty little pink darling who was always ready and waiting for my call, morning, noon or night.

Now, years later, I’m older and wiser. There’s no chance I’d go to a Hollywood joint like Senorita’s (RIP) on New Years Eve. Clubs, lines and unnecessary crowds are as foreign to me now as babysitters, Nick Jr. and the Valley were to me then. Hell, there’s minimal chance I’d go anywhere on NYE without a great reason, like being invited to drop the ball at midnight from Mars.

As of a few years ago, likely coinciding with becoming parents, Mrs. Dude and I adopted a low-key approach to the New Years holiday. We usually have a family activity during the day (i.e. something that will wear the kids out and make them want to go to bed early) followed by Mrs. Dude’s famous Appetizer Dinner as our oxymoronic main course.

Every December 31st now, as our oven readies an array of bubbling oozy mozzarella sticks, fried mushrooms that erupt like a volcano when you bite into them, crunchy chewy taquitos AND my wife’s famous homemade pigs in blankets, I can feel my stomach percolating in eager anticipation of the fiesta it’s about to ingest-a. And with each passing year, I tell myself that I can still down this stuff like I did 20 years ago in my off-campus apartment on any given Tuesday night a mere 6 hours before a big exam. The truth is I realize that I need a head exam to think I can make it through this big tasty night without a wingman by my side. So I look back to that little pink lady who’s always been there for me through both good times and stuffed crust pizza: Pepto-Bismol.

Unlike the comparative ease of my college and mid-20’s adventures, I now face New Years with a new crew and my Little Dudes don’t show the same mercy my professors usually did. I have to be up and ready to move on January 1^st long before noon, sadly, on some family adventure or another. That means I don’t have time for my digestive tract to go on strike from our previous night’s holiday excess, relatively low key as it may have been. So I keep a bottle of the classic pink tummy-fixer elixir chilling’ in the fridge, ensuring that I’m always ready to counterattack my intestinal distress, call it Mozzarella’s Revenge, caused by my exposure to a few of my favorite things*, head on. Plus, if I’m not home, I can carry chewables in my pocket, making it even easier to stop the need to go when I’m on the go.

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*Speaking of my favorite things, unlike virtually every third other person in LA, I don’t fancy myself a songwriter, but the memories conjured while writing this post and some seasonal movie watching inspired me to pen some alternate lyrics to a classic tune from one of my wife's favorite movies about singing Austrian families. Thanks to Pepto-Bismol whose #PinkRelief helps me avoid being a self-induced member of the Von Crapp family, and for more Merry Poopins.

Here's a little poem I wrote, to the tune of one of my favorite songs: 

Fresh fried veg-tables with dips straight from Ranches

Taste great but cause me belly ava-lanches

Bubbling hot pizza dripping with oil

Makes my chest feel like it’s going to boil

Buttered hot pretzels are a wonderful lot

But usually tie my gut in a big salty knot

Holidays lead to delicious binges

Rescued by Pepto with its bright pink tinges…

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I was compensated for this post, but all opinions contained within are entirely mine, for better or worse, like the fact that mozzarella sticks might be the greatest food ever invented. 

Skip the Tater Tots and Be a #HealthyDad

Though it usually appears glamorous in movies, most real-life business travel is generally anything but that. My day job takes me on periodic short trips, often back and forth in one day, and to say they are exhausting is like saying the ocean is wet. They’re even more exhausting than parenting. Coincidentally while en route home from my most recent daytrip last week, I had an epiphany: part of the reason I go on these trips is to help take care of my family (financially), but sitting at the gate  I realized that the choices I made on that trip prevented me from taking care of myself.

As the opening notes to “Here Comes the Sun” poured through my iPhone at 4:30am one day last week I knew that I had a flight to catch in 2 ½ hours and had to get moving. I’d slept less than 5 hours the night before and was drained from the get go. I was mostly ready to go from the night before so I quickly got dressed and while making a cup of green tea to take with me, I saw a box of Apple Jacks and grabbed a little baggyful for the road. Sustenance to get me to LAX, I told myself. Plus, it was kinda fruit, right?

One of the few benefits of pre-dawn flights is seeing things like this. 

While waiting for my flight I grabbed some oatmeal from a restaurant to take on the plane. It was loaded with blueberries, almonds and brown sugar. This seemed at least partly healthy or at least healthier than the frosted cinnamon roll that I really wanted at the same shop. After a short flight I had a brief layover before my connection. While traversing terminals at SFO I saw this headline and hoped they’d wait until after I’d gone to begin the testing:

No thanks, SFO. 

After arriving at my destination I met with some coworkers for lunch, AKA a greasy burger with tater tots before our big client meeting. How often does one see tots in a restaurant I asked myself as I wolfed the salty potato nuggets down? Answer: Not often enough to pass them up.

After our meeting we stopped at a gas station and everyone grabbed some candy and a Diet drink to balance it out and power through the long day’s final third. Once back at the airport an order of wings came my way as a sports bar was the only feasible fast place to eat and I needed to grab something to take with. I crushed that meal on my 3^rd flight of the day, along with some Twizzlers I’d discovered while waiting to pay for another Diet soda at the airport.  

It was while traversing SFO for the second time that day, as my stomach begged for mercy, that I realized that while my professional day had gone quite well, my personal day had been a disaster because I hadn’t even remotely taken care of myself. While waiting for my plane to board I grabbed a fruit cup for my 4^th and final flight of the day. I wasn’t even really hungry but felt I should have at least one quasi healthy food item during my marathon day.

It dawned on me, as I struggled to stay awake on my late night jaunt back to LAX that after a night of almost no sleep I’d made it through the day completely artificially via a combination of caffeine, grease and sugar. I’d started off relatively well with green tea and oatmeal but everything after that point was a disaster, which is not OK.

For someone my age, almost pushing 40, with young kids I need to do whatever it takes to ensure that I’m going to be around when they need me, whether it’s 5 years from now or hopefully 50. And a big part of that starts with taking care of myself. I’ve realized that being a Healthy Dad is important to me not only for my own longevity, but also because I’m a role model to my two Junior Dudes. What they see me do will resonate as they grow and that includes what I eat and drink. My pants have felt snug lately and I have not liked what I’ve seen in the mirror or pictures, so as I get ready to mark another notch around the sun in a few weeks I know that I need to be more proactive about my health. 

 For myself and my family.

I’m diligent about my kids getting their regular checkups but have been lax about my own. The truth is that I found a great doctor a few years back but when my company switched insurers he wasn’t on the new plan. I’m sure plenty of other great doctors are, however, and I’m doing myself a disservice by not taking advantage of the free annual physicals most plans include. My boys aren’t getting any younger and neither am I. It’s time for change. I want to be a Healthy Dad and that starts now. It’s time to get a good night’s sleep, skip the tater tots in lieu of a salad and carry healthy snacks so I have no excuses on these grueling 20-hour workdays. I need to do it. I can do it. I will do it.

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So why am I telling you all this? Because I was invited to participate in the #HealthyDad campaign to raise awareness for leading long healthy lifestyles and taking care of ourselves. I made this video, which you should totally check out on my Instagram, to show you a bit more of my inspiration and perspiration.

Make your own video and upload it to the Healthy Dad FB page for your chance to win one of five $100 Amazon gift cards. Totally worth it, for more reasons than one.

Legal Bizness: Thanks to Anthem Blue Cross, who sponsored the campaign, for including dads in this important discussion about family health care. My views are based solely on my experience as a parent, and not as a medical professional. All opinions contained within this post are mine, for better or worse.