Why and How and Thank You Very Much

Over the last four years, I’ve shared stories with you of birth and death, sickness and health, not to mention bodily functions, birthday parties and bubbles. I’ve shared elated and somber, and all else in between, just as is the normal flow of life’s constant waterfall.

Why I’ve done this requires a twofold answer:

1)   To have a record of ups and downs that my boys will hopefully want to read some day to restore memories they were probably too young to hang onto.

2)   To scratch the left-brain itch that brought me from Ohio to Los Angeles 15+ years ago to become the TV writer I never became.

But how I’ve done it is a different story, and one I’ve never really talked about. It’s not that it’s a secret, but rather I must admit that it’s only recently that I’ve realized that I’ve taken this privilege for granted: every word I’ve published in the last four year has been possible due to one person, and she’s known around here as Mrs. Dude.

Today my wife Shana turned 40 years old. We were just kids when we met, if you consider 27 the tail end of adolescence. Now a dozen years, a couple kids, 5 homes and an incalculable amount of joy she’s brought me later, I want to present her with a small fraction in return.

When I’ve had deadlines she’s never blinked an eye while I’ve sequestered myself with my digital quill and ink until the task is complete. Oh, and those incredible conferences which have literally changed my life? My wife is the one who encourages me to go, despite my entirely-self-imposed guilt, even knowing how much extra work it means for her on days when I’m not home to get the boys fed and delivered to school on time in the morning, make dinner or get them bathed and bedded for several days in a row. Needless to say she carried and bore the two Junior Dudes, too, which are tasks obviously way out of my wheelhouse. 

And for all this, I say thank you, Shana.

Through nearly eight years of wedded bliss and stress, plus another four of dating/engaged trepidation, I’ve been beyond fortunate to have the world’s most calm and patient partner by my side. When I get frazzled about being late to a 3-year-old’s birthday party, she’s the one who restores logic to the equation and reminds me that no one will ever remember or care that we arrived 10/20/30 minutes late. Clearly this is an unintended side effect of marrying a math teacher.

I tend to be my own harshest critic and those moments when she returns me to earth often make me feel not only like I’ve just discovered an endless canteen while lost in the desert, but also that I didn’t know water even existed.

Though I know she’ll likely not see these words, given how hard she works at her full-time job, tutoring other kids on the side AND co-grooming two of the sweetest, yet most devilish, boys on earth, I felt compelled to share this for her, and for our boys, and for you to know how we all got where we are today.

It was legendary rock concert promoter Bill Graham who once said “They’re not the best at what they do. They’re the only ones that do what they do”, about pioneering jam band the Grateful Dead. Excelling at any chosen task is a challenge. Blazing a trail and doing things unlike they’ve ever been done before requires patience, vision and endless supplies of energy. I was beyond fortunate to hitch my wagon to someone who has off-the-charts levels of all three and who helps instill those traits in our family on a daily basis. For this, I am grateful and I trust that my boys will realize someday how lucky they are to have such an incredible mother and role model.

I’m even luckier to call her my wife.

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The Trick to Becoming an All-In Parent

Beyond my Monday through Friday preschool drop-off routine, which I adore, as a work-at-home parent I often spend more time at home than I’d like. So on the infrequent occasions when I do get out, I try to make the most of whatever the outing may be.

For some reason we’ve had a slew of holiday-related events to attend this year compared to prior Decembers. When I looked at our calendar with my worn bloodshot eyes a few days ago I noticed a Saturday evening family event that sounded fun if I could stay awake. Then, as luck would have it, I was invited to another event with some dudes the same night and of course at the same time. How could I attend both, which is what I wanted to do, while making sure everyone was happy and no one felt neglected, most importantly the Junior Dudes.

I deliberated what to do as the holiday event would be fun and so would the incredibly-rare “guys’ night out”. So I decided I’d skip the family event to go out with the guys, which seemed reasonable as I’d been to seemingly a thousand family events this month. That night while I slept, along with a dream of going waterskiing in gravy with an octopus, my subconscious told me I’d made the wrong choice. I had to figure out a way to make both things work if I was going to make everyone, include myself, happy in the end.

I consider myself to be an “All-In” parent. I work hard to be actively involved in my boys’ lives and I aim to remain that way. Each time I see disengaged parents at parks, parties and elsewhere, it inspires me to double check where I am with my own boys. I can honestly say that as this year comes to a close, I’ve been more successfully entrenched with my boys than last year.

So I went back to my friends who invited me out and asked if they’d be open to pushing back their invitation a bit so I could attend both events that night. Though I anticipated resistance from a group and an existing event, I was surprised when none came. They were amenable and I was set for a big night out, or at least the kind of big night out a sleep-deprived father of two little ones has these days.

Glow in the dark dreidels are rad. 

I got my boys bathed and ready for our family holiday event and we were on our way. I spent quality time watching them play dreidel, eat latkes, sing and dance at a wonderful Hanukkah event and at the arranged time, my buddies picked me up and we headed out on the town while Mrs. Dude was all set to get the Junior Dudes in their PJs for the ride home and straight to bed.

So where does an “All-in” dad head for a night out? How about to check out Applebee’s new “All-in burgers”? Though I’ve been working toward a healthy lifestyle this year, I know that it’s OK to enjoy deviation from time to time in moderation. As Jack Nicholson said in The Shining, “All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy”. I don’t want to be dull, hungry, or the caretaker of a haunted resort so I was eager to check out the “All-in” lineup, where the cooks actually ground toppings into the beef. Brilliant.

We enjoyed some appetizers, like the amazing pretzel roll thingamajig, and I settled on the Mushroom Swiss All-in from the 4 options on the menu. Honestly, I was skeptical of how the burger would taste with everything crammed into one mass, but it presented and tasted better than I expected. I’ve been to burger places that try to get too fancy and the myriad toppings all get lost among each other. That didn’t happen here. The mushrooms were perfect and the oozing Swiss cheese was the perfect complement. As my stomach displays, I’ve had many a burger in my time and this is one of the better ones I’ve had lately. My compadres enjoyed theirs, too, so I’d guess that we’re all-in on the “All-in burgers”. 

My #BurgerSelfie

All in all (pun intended), it was a great night. Family, friends, food & festivities made for a great double night out and thankfully I returned home satisfied from both my dinner and my decision to fit both events into the evening.  

Disclaimer: I was compensated by Life of Dad, LLC and Applebee’s for this post, as well as given a complimentary meal to test things out. All opinions and ideas contained in this post are mine alone, for better or worse. 

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. 

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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My Motherless Mother's Day Paradox

When I was younger (i.e. before I had kids) I used to celebrate New Year’s Eve by going out to parties, dinners and other festivities. Now Mrs. Dude and I stay in, make our traditional Appetizer Dinner, and usually fall asleep before the ball drops.

When I was even younger than that, Halloween was always a chilly Midwestern night spent running around the neighborhood with friends, dressed crazily and on the hunt for a slew of candy. These days I spend October 31^st chasing down my 2 Junior Dudes, trying to get that one elusive snapshot featuring both of them actually smiling and looking at the camera while dressed in their costumes. I still try to get a slew of candy, though now it’s under the auspices of being for the kids.

The way we celebrate events and milestones evolves over the course of our lives. Things that seemed extremely important then (like having a Valentine) are not nearly as important as I realize that others are now (understanding why Martin Luther King Day is not just a random day-off).  There are also some days that we don’t realize the importance of until after the fact.

This year, for the 6^th year in a row, I’ll honor Mrs. Dude on Mother’s Day. The first year was merely symbolic, since she was just completing the first trimester with the Little Dude in her belly, but the last 4, plus this year, are the real deal.

Also this year, for the 4^th year in a row, I’ll remember my own Mother who is now infinitely farther away than she was on the phone calls I made to her over the previous 11 second Sundays in May while living 3,000 miles away from her.

This maternal dichotomy has turned Mother’s Day into a bittersweet time for me. I couldn’t be more proud of my wife for the amazing job she does day after day caring for and nurturing our two spirited young sons. But I also couldn’t miss my own mother more than I do on this day, for some reason more than on others.

There are myriad annual events which might be considered more important or seem more significant like birthdays, anniversaries or even the date of her death. But for some reason Mother’s Day now always feels like a bucket of ice-cold water to the face for me. Maybe it’s the regret of not spending more of these holidays actually visiting her or it could just be further reinforcement of the finality of her passing.

Just as I felt like an outsider while growing up Jewish during Christmas season, silently dreaming of the grass being greener in the other Testament, now for some reason I have a hard time shaking the emptiness that is inherent this time of year.  Again, this is not a knock on my own wife who will be celebrated from start to finish that day because she has earned and deserves it. But these women who sacrifice literally everything for their children & families should be remembered not only on a random Sunday, but every day. These incredible parental legacies must live on, whether they are around the corner or on the other side of fate.

Maybe the most important thing I can hope is that just as my Mother used to wait up for me to come home around midnight when I was a teen to make sure I was home safely and securely, that she is still watching out for, or over, me to make sure that things are OK on my side. It wouldn’t surprise me in the slightest to know she’s looking for assurance that I’m happy, which I usually am, or that my family is thriving, which we seem to be.

What I now know is that even though I only got 35 Mother’s Days with my Mother, which was more than some people get and less than others, those were the best possible gifts for her and for me. Now I must teach my boys to make the most of their own Mother’s Days, because no matter how many they get it might not be enough to fully honor the most special person in their lives: their Mother. 

Happy Mother's Day to you and yours. 

The two finest mothers I could ever imagine:
 Mine (L) & Mrs. Dude (R)
10-month-old Little Dude (C)

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Hey, I'm all about Instagram these days.Come hang with me there: @DudeOfTheHouse

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I'm a Super MilkMan!

There was a period of time in the early 2000s when I wore black rimmed glasses and people often called me Clark, as in Clark Kent. My black frames and hair, not to mention my chiseled physique, were somehow reminiscent of Dean Cain who played Clark on some TV show I’ve long since forgotten. Though I can’t leap buildings in a single bound, or even three bounds, like the Man of Steel I have finally become another type of superhero: Super MilkMan.

When the great Dudes from Life of Dad asked me to participate in a contest they were hosting for the National Milk Board, I leapt at the opportunity, which is about the only thing I can surpass in a single bound. What’s the grand prize of this contest, you say? Um, just a trip to meet The Rock, yo. You know the badass former pro wrestler who has starred in a ton of shoot 'em up action movies. And as The Tooth Fairy.  He drinks milk, so I have to believe that if I do as well, I will turn out to be as big and buff as him. So I rarely skip a day of enjoying milk with my cereal for breakfast, and the Junior Dudes never miss a chance to snicker at my Milk Mustache.

My biceps are just a tad smaller. Guess I need more milk. 

But seriously, milk is a great source of vitamins, nutrients and protein. I have to admit, I knew about the first two of those, but was surprised to learn that just one glass of milk has 8 grams of protein. That was great news to me, because as the father of a super picky toddler I often struggle finding ways for him to get his protein. But one thing I never have to convince him is to drink his daily glass of milk. I have to believe that his regular consumption, along with inheriting my superhero-esque resemblance, have contributed to his off-the-charts growth every time he goes to the doctor. I bet he can smell what The Rock was cookin’, or at least drinkin’: Milk.

Here’s my entry into the #SuperMilkMan contest. If you don’t already follow me on Instagram, here’s your chance.

For more info, be sure to check out http://thebreakfastproject.com/ and follow @MilkMustache on Twitter. They’re good people.

DISCLAIMER: I was compensated by Life of Dad, LLC to be an entrant in the #SuperMilkMan contest. Unfortunately it was not with a lifetime supply of milk. All opinions expressed are completely my own, for better or worse.

The Junior Dudes' First Movie

For the last few months, Mrs. Dude and I have discussed finally taking our 3.5 year old Little Dude to see his first movie in a theater. But with a newborn around, scheduling has proven tricky and frankly we just never made time. Though he loves movies, watching at home informally encourages him to take extended breaks during movie time. That contributed to my reluctance to take him. After all, taking a family to the movies is not cheap so I’d rather not drop $50 to see half of one.  So when I was invited by Target to go to the Red Carpet Hollywood Premiere of Disney’s Planes with my family, it seemed to be the perfect opportunity.

The Little Dude is an animation aficionado, having seen the Toy Story and Cars movies at least 50 times each. And ever since he first spotted a display of Planes toys at Target a few weeks ago, he’s become obsessed with the characters of a movie he didn’t even know existed.  To ensure he was familiar in advance, the rad crew at Target sent over a box of Planes gear for both Junior Dudes to enjoy before the event:

We headed to Hollywood earlier this week for the premiere at the legendary El Capitan Theater. Just like at the Oscars, which are held across the street, this was a high fashion event, so the Little Dude wore Dusty Crophopper and his brother was dressed in El Chupacabra.

Hollywood Boulevard was blocked off and decorated with the traditional red carpet, albeit with lines like you’d see on an airport’s runway.

Once we entered the Target Landing Zone for the pre-show party, my boys were overwhelmed by the carnival of fun that stood before them.

We surveyed the scene and went booth-to-booth, where the Little Dude got to play aerial-themed games and win awesome prizes from Target’s Planes collection. He went “Fly” Fishing:

Played The Claw game, (which he knew from Toy Story):

And took aim at a Balloon Pop:

There were plenty of snacks and drinks for everyone, including some cool Jamba Juice kids’ drinks and sliders so good that I ate 3. OK, 4. I meant 5. 

The sun was beating down, but luckily there were some cool spots to check out the complete Target Planes collection. I had to literally pry the Little Dude away from there a couple times so he could enjoy more of the party, though he would have been content starting at the scooters, toys, etc. for the duration of the event.

Our 10-month-old Littler Dude was along for the ride and had a great time with a Dusty Crophopper fan that someone handed him on the way in. He clutched it tight for 2 hours, as though it were the law.

Then it was time for the main event. We made our way into the theater, not knowing how either of our boys would sustain for the duration of the 90 minute flick. Once the house lights went down and the 3-D glasses went on, all four of us were quickly caught up in the tale of Dusty Crophopper, an underdog cropduster plane with a big dream of participating in an around the world speed race. If you don’t know much about planes, this would be like someone driving a 1972 Ford Pinto entering the Indy 500. But Dusty is determined and through hard work, and assistance from his neighbor, a retired jet fighter named Skipper, Dusty qualifies for the race. Along the way, he meets planes from around the world, like El Chupacabra, a Mexican plane desperately trying to both win the race and find a mate. El Chu and Dusty help each other while challenging the evil defending champion plane Ripslinger for the world title.

Planes is a light film that will appeal to most kids. Its tagline is “from the world above Cars”, which is explains why the visual styling of the film is strongly resembles both Cars movies.  The premise of Planes also appears to be a hybrid of the two Cars movies, featuring the naïve youngster, the crusty older mentor, and a big race featuring international opponents.

You might be wondering, how the Junior Dudes fared during the film. The Littler Dude sat through about half before needing to go into the lobby to crawl around. His older brother, however, was literally on the edge of his seat for 90 minutes, totally enthralled by the action before him.  Overall, it was a great day. The only issue is that no matter what we take them to see next, they will invariably be looking for the red carpet, games, food and endless toys that made up our wonderful Planes experience.

What's your favorite animated movie? Do you plan to see Planes? 

Thanks to Target for providing an assortment of Planes gear, as well as entrance to the party and screening. All opinions expressed within this post are mine, for better or worse.  I was compensated in kind in exchange for this review. My kids are thrilled.