Another Independence Day Loop Around the Blogosphere

It was a holiday weekend and I had Friday off from work. The zoo kicked things off and the beach wrapped it up. In between came a long day in the pool leading into a night spent watching the summer sky become splatter-painted as we celebrated our nation’s birthday. I’m tired. And busy. And often lately I’ve been tired of feeling so busy.

Zero score and four years ago on Independence Day 2011, I sat down at my laptop and started typing. I only had one son and he loved naps, just as I did the simultaneous several free hours they afforded me every afternoon. I miss those days. Life is different now. Mrs. Dude and I are the proud owners of two sweet and occasionally sour sons who, as of just a few weeks ago, combine to take zero naps on a daily basis. My older son ditched his afternoon delight shortly before his brother was born and in a couple short months, the younger and Littler Dude will turn 3.

A few hours after my first post, July 4, 2011

The calendar seems to turn faster every day, week and month and my two babies have become boys. I miss the babies, but enjoy being able to have a two-way conversation now and again. They both sleep about 11 or 12 hours per night, which seem to go much quicker than the other half-day which often moves s-l-o-w-l-y, even when filled with amazingly fun activities. Also, especially when dinner is about an hour away and 60 minutes feels like 600 thanks to the constant snack requests Mrs. Dude and I field.

We’ve been fortunate to have some incredible experiences as a result of this little blog. Many I’ve shared and countless more I’ve wanted to write about but haven’t quite had the time to finish. I frequently think of the tired movie trope of the wannabe writer longing to publish “The Great American Novel”, but settling for being a teacher, actor or whatever, and I find it oddly parallel to my blogging own writing situation. I wish I published more, I really do, but those afternoon hours my boys once filled with sleep (and I with writing), they now want to use for playing, swimming and silliness which, like naps, are finite activities with a likely expiration date of about 10 years when they become tweens and teens who will want nothing to do with me.

So I brainstorm ideas in the shower, when I have no ability to type and the Great American Blog Post once again eludes me. I have a folder filled with dozens of drafts I haven’t finished, or whose timeliness has passed, and wonder if I’ll ever make the time to post them all. There is funny stuff, sad stuff and random ideas which could go either way. I want to push them out. I need to push them out. The thoughts in my head need to be released, but I have to make the time. And I will. Just after we finish putting this puzzle together, then making dinner, bath and bedtime, laundry, dishes and those precious few ZZZZ’s I so long for.

For better or worse I’m still here four years later, which was inconceivable to me on July 4, 2011, when this all began with a very sleep boy and some random silly thoughts. Please stay tuned for there IS more to come, and thanks for sticking with me through it all. Your eyes on my words mean more than you know. 

The Dude family, 4 Independence Days later

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If you like amazingly fun and silly photography, and why wouldn't you, come follow me on Instagram where I post some of my favorites daily: instagram.com/dudeofthehouse

A Mothers Day Correlation

In case you missed it, Mothers’ Day was Sunday and I have a little different perspective on it than I did last year.  In my post last year, I mentioned my mother and wife, but failed to mention one more important mother in my life, my grandmother (my mother’s mother). She had a tremendous influence on me growing up, and was the only grandparent I ever really knew. Sadly she passed away just 3 days after Mother’s Day last year and is certainly missed this year.

I still miss my mother, and that will likely never change, but now her spirit is back with us in a different way. It’s a Jewish custom to name a newborn after a deceased family member, which is supposed to cause some sort of metaphysical connection between two people whose lives never crossed. I know that sounds like something from an episode of LOST, but trust me, it’s a thing.  

When the Littler Dude was born last fall, he received the same initials that my mother had and they will now be forever linked.  And so far, after 7 months, he is showing signs of sharing some similar traits with his namesake. Here are a few:

·        Lack of sleep: My mother was never a very sound sleeper. Neither is the Littler Dude. That was rough for her and now continues for us. 

·         Love of family: My mother’s favorite thing in the world was being around her family, especially her kids and grandkids, even if they were getting rowdy. The Littler Dude loves being held and often doesn’t like when Mrs. Dude or I put him down for a break. Even if he is immediately smushed like a pancake by his older brother, the Little Dude.

·         Laughter: My mother was a big sitcom fan, as am I, and would frequently watch late-night reruns of classic shows she’d loved the first 20 times she’d seen them. The Littler Dude cackles hysterically when his big brother sings and dances for him, even if it’s the same made-up-on-the-spot song and dance for the 50^th time that day.

·         Appetite: My mother always made unique food combos for herself, like cold chicken for breakfast (one of her faves). The Littler Dude has yet to taste a food he doesn’t like, including Gerber puree classics like Chicken & Apples or Sweet Potatoes, Apples and Raisins (bleh).

·         Toughness: My mother faced health issues almost since birth and battled cancer with ever fiber of her being. The Littler Dude gets repeatedly squashed, rolled and folded in half by his older brother. Neither one of them complains about the adversity they’ve faced.

We have a long way to go, but so far the Littler Dude is living up to his namesake’s legacy. And with another Mother’s Day now passed, I am thankful to be able to spend it with the amazing mother of my children. Her patience with all three Dudes (both big and small) that she lives with is inexplicable, unrivaled and beyond appreciated.  Happy Mothers’ Day, Mrs. Dude!

Happy Mothers Day from the Dude family to you and yours!!

Reach the Summit

A lot can change in the course of a year. Perfect example: one year ago today I had one kid and now I have two. The magic of science and calendars is astounding. Also one year ago, I was a novice blogger. I’d been doing it for less than a year and was still learning on the fly, which I guess is still partly true today. But when I attended the inaugural Dad 2.0 Summit last year, I had no idea why I was even there among so many seasoned bloggers. 

This year I returned to the scene of the crime a year older, maybe a smidge wiser and certainly a significant amount more tired. For various reasons both economical and familial, I debated whether or not to attend the event even up to just a couple weeks beforehand. Even though I’d registered last July, I didn’t know if I could make it work. In fact, I sent out a search beacon (via Facebook, naturally) trying to find someone to share my room to help defray costs. Just then, I received a notice that I’d won a free stay at the Four Seasons Houston from Dove Men+Care. Just like their great products, that didn’t stink. Fate wanted me to go, so I went.

I arrived in Houston and as I made my way to the baggage claim, I saw a guy holding a Honda sign for attendees to get chauffeured rides to the hotel. I’ve always wanted someone to pick me up at the airport with a little sign containing my name, but this was probably as close as I’ll ever get so I took it. Along with a couple friends from LA, I ran into Mike Adamick, who I'd met last year, and he joined us for our very smooth ride in a decked out Honda CR-V. Apropos for Texas, I rode shotgun. 

Upon arrival at the Four Seasons, I went to the Dove Men+Care lounge where I received a great straight-razor shave by a local barber named Joe. He took his time and my sensitive skin appreciated it. You can’t rush art.

I changed my clothes and headed to the opening event where I ran into a few friends from last year and some that I only knew online and met in person for the first time. One person I was looking forward to meeting was The Captain. And not just because he’s another Cleveland expatriate. Great writer and great guy. Period.

My left ear hadn’t popped after our flight landed and I could only partially hear all night, so I didn’t join the gang for karaoke that night. I hung out with friends new and old in the hotel lobby bar which was quite entertaining and not only because Lady Gaga was playing next door and her traveling freak show kept passing by looking for her meat dress, presumably for a snack. The NBA's Charlotte Bobcats were staying there, too, which gave me an opportunity to meet another fellow Buckeye:

Former Ohio State hoopster Byron Mullens.
(I'm the one on the left)

My room was great and though I never used the object on the right:

…I had a very comfortable stay.

Sunrise from my 18th floor room

I woke up the next morning feeling refreshed and with restored hearing in both ears. The self-described "Forrest Gump" Jeff Pulver gave the opening keynote.  Pulver shared stories about taking risks in life and not being afraid of trying new things, and it's evident that he's not since he was wearing purple glasses, purple polo shirt and purple sneakers,. He made one particular statement that really stuck with me:  “I believe in personal reboots, if something isn’t working out, start over”. He did that several times throughout his career including starting Vonage so I’ll take his word for it.

Several other speakers that morning really opened my eyes to some new possibilities in life, including Alan Kircinek and Three-Headed Dad Jim Lin. The perfect cap to that morning was some epic grilled cheese made by Kraft. I melted like that yellowy goodness between the buttery bread as I devoured my lunch. 

I attended a great session that afternoon about sharing vs. discretion when writing a blog. And that’s all I’m going to say about it.

That night was a casino night which is always fun for someone who doesn’t gamble. Even if it’s fake money. The one thing I confirmed is that I will never understand the game of craps. After the party, I traveled with some new friends to a Karaoke bar nearby. Let’s just say it was obvious who the locals were and who the bloggers were among the performers.

Canadian Idol Chris Read rocks the mic

After a night of way too little sleep, I needed to pack my belongings to head home and was going to skip the morning speakers, but am quite thankful I didn’t. Whit Honea read a piece he’d written about how understanding kids isn’t always as easy as you’d think. That was followed by keynote speaker Brene Brown who gave an incredible talk about Daring Greatly, vulnerability and dealing with pretty much every adverse situation in life. It was likely the highlight of the weekend for me. Other than the grilled cheese. 

After another great panel discussion that afternoon, I chatted with some of the great event sponsors and learned about Jamba Juice’s new kids meals, how great milk is, and that Turtle Wax actually exists beyond 1960s game show reruns.

Oh, and this happened:

I’m already looking forward to throwing some steaks on that thing soon. Thanks, Kraft!

So after I’d waffled on whether or not to go to the event, am I glad I did? Absolutely. I left with tremendous new insight into myself, my goals and more that I never would have anticipated or expected out of the conference. I made new friends and hung out with old ones. I got to spend time with some guys who I’d gotten to know virtually over the last year and picked their brains as much as I could get away with. I’m already looking forward to next year, somewhere in the heart of Texas. (Hopefully not El Paso). 

Special thanks to Doug French and John Pacini for organizing such a great event 

and Dove Men+Care for sponsoring my stay. 

Sleeping Ugly

The cliché of overly exhausted parents is as exhausted as much as it is true. But even though I’ve been a parent for over three years, I never really believed it until a few months ago.

When I started this blog 18 months ago I had a much simpler life with just one child. At that time, the Little Dude was a happy 20-month-old who napped regularly, ate fussily (though not fusilli) and gave me lots of entertainment to write about. For more than a year, that stayed constant. 

The Little Dude in his favorite nap location.

Since The Littler Dude’s arrival, however, Mrs. Dude and I have struggled to figure out a regular schedule for ourselves and our family.  I think part of that stems from my biggest gaffe (so far) as a parent of two kids: I expected #2 to be just like #1 was.  But that’s not how it usually works out, just ask Pippa Middleton's parents. 

Throughout Mrs. Dude’s second pregnancy, countless people told us “having two kids is easier than having one”.  That’s absolutely ridiculous, unless you have full-time help, in which case someone else is likely doing much of the heavy lifting for you. Four months later, I’d like to reconnect with those nosy strangers again and kick them in the shins. There’s absolutely no way what they said is true.

The Little Dude was an amazing sleeper who was sleeping soundly through the night after about a week. No joke. His brother, not so much. After 15 weeks he is finally getting into a routine consisting of waking up once during the night to feed in the midst of a 10-11 hour stretch, which most parents of newborns would consider spectacular.  To us, it’s created an unprecedented level of exhaustion that we are still figuring out how to caffeinate our way out of.  

One key difference between having one kid and two is that with the first one you have the freedom to allow him to get into a routine. Three years ago the Little Dude’s schedule was so locked in that you could set your TiVo by it:

Wake up in the morning > Eat > 3 hour nap > Wake up > Eat > 3 hour nap > Wake up > Eat > Bath >  Sleep for 12 hours, then rinse and repeat.

Now, with #2, we make sure he’s changed and fed, then throw him in the car to take his older brother where he needs to be. Naps are few and far between. The Littler Dude naps well in the car so he takes a lot of 20 minute snoozes throughout the day, which most adults would kill for, but are not nearly enough to quench a baby’s thirst for longer stretches in dreamland.  He doesn’t know any better or have higher expectations, so he has no clue about how his brother lived before him.  But as a parent it can be hard to watch an obviously tired infant who only wants to crash for an hour or two get schlepped through Target, to preschool pickup and then the bank while his eyelids quiver toward sleepyville.  

The Littler Dude in his frequent nap spot. 

For a variety of reasons, our living situation has changed since the boys were born. In our current circumstance, they will soon have to share a room. I never shared a room with anyone until college (and I hated that) so it’s a foreign concept to me. I’ve delayed moving him into his big brother’s room partially out of fear that they will cannibalize each other’s sleep by waking each other up during the night. If that happens, our entire infrastructure will collapse faster than a treehouse full of Biggest Loser contestants.  

So what can I do to rectify this whole situation? Though I don’t like it, I’ve gotten used to operating on about 5 hours of sleep per night over the last few months after averaging 8 during the previous 3 years.  I know this situation is only temporary, but until The Littler Dude starts making it through the night I think there may be really only one good solution. Earplugs.

How did you deal with kids' sleeping issues? Any tips? 

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.

I Don't Hate My Family

I have a confession to make. It’s something that’s not easy to say, but it’s been on my mind for a while. I’ve hesitated because I don’t want to become a pariah wandering aimlessly in the blogosphere, but I simply have to get it off my chest.

I don’t hate my wife or kid.  

Why is this hard to admit, you might ask? You might think that not hating your family should go without saying. Or at least that’s what I always assumed. But it seemingly goes against what I read from a surprising number of parenting writers on the web on a very regular basis.

There are thousands of amateur and professional parenting writers/bloggers floating around the Internet. I believe each is entitled to express their own opinion in their forum, just as I do. But I don’t agree with what a shocking number of them actually write.

These parents may not flat-out admit their distaste for what you’d expect would be their “loved ones”, but it is a common theme that I’ve read more times than I care to admit.  And it infuriates me every time.  Just to be clear, most people don’t come out and directly say “I hate my daughter” or “my husband is an idiot”, though I have seen both of those statements written on several occasions. It’s usually an off-hand remark about what a pain their spouse/kids/stepkids/siblings/parents are, and more often than not, it’s followed up by a comment about “needing wine”. I’m not a wine drinker, but on the rare occasions that I have had a glass, I know that the only thing it usually does for me is cause drowsiness.  That has yet to help me parent better, so maybe I am not doing it correctly?

I’ve noticed this trend for a while, but it was when I saw this Tweet a few weeks ago that I really became disturbed:

I sent this reply to the Tweet and here’s the response I received:

That may be true. I’m not in her specific position so I don’t know. I do know how challenging parenting one active 2 ½ year old can be and that the only substance I usually rely on is caffeine to help keep me going long enough to finish everything I need to do for him, myself, my wife and our home.

Raising kids isn’t easy. Neither is marriage. I don’t think they are supposed to be. There are built-in surprises and trapdoors to keep you on your toes as you traverse the path of life.  Believe me, I speak from firsthand experience.  If I had any more unexpected plot twists in my life over the last five years, you might think that my story was an episode of LOST.  

If you “Like” me on Facebook or follow me on Twitter, you’ll know that I joke around. A lot. The things I usually joke about are funny/annoying/strange things that happen to me and/or my family. They are usually tinged with obvious sarcasm.  Whatever they are, I always take into account how my wife or son would feel if they read them.

On the long list of hats I wear, long before I’m a writer, I’m a father and a husband. And though I may kid about the annoying and frustrating things that happen in life, like how the Little Dude recently started waking up an hour earlier every day and I’m beyond exhausted from it, I don’t think anything I write is overtly mean-spirited toward him. Sure, I’d love to sleep in more. Who wouldn’t? (Beside him, obviously.) But that’s what parenting is, sacrificing for the betterment of our families. If you aren’t interested, don’t sign up. But when I read that someone (or a lot of people) publically berating their family or is driven to drinking by the challenges of parenting, it makes me sad. Sad for them. And sad for the child. 

The Dude’s Guide to Surviving Your First Pregnancy

The wife of an old high school friend of mine just gave birth to their first child a few days ago. Over the last few months, I’ve been dropping (what I think are) helpful pieces of advice to him as they journeyed down the long three-quarters of a year of gestation. I figured that I’ve been a parent for almost 2 ½ years so I’m basically an expert.

Now that Mrs. Dude is expecting again, I’m trying to remember all of the important details from our first loop around the block. Unfortunately due to major sleep deprivation over the last quarter-decade, I can barely remember what I had for lunch yesterday. So I’ve decided to compile a reference list of helpful hints for Dudes whose wives/girlfriends/partners are expecting a bundle of joy.  (I use the term wife below, since that’s what I have, but whichever variety applies to you works the same.)

Since your free time is running out, I present without further delay 

The Dude’s Guide to Surviving Your First Pregnancy:

1)      If you don’t know the fruit of your loins' gender, ignore everyone who offers their opinion. If you wanted to know you’d find out. Whether it’s your favorite aunt or the checker at Target, whatever they say is useless. And never do the “ring on a string” trick on your wife’s belly to find out. There are much more scientific options available. Like asking a Magic 8 Ball.

2)      Don’t read “What To Expect When You're Expecting”. I know it’s been around for decades and has gajillions of copies in print, but it could really scare you. You may shy away from your wife when you learn about the numerous colorful bodily functions & expulsions she will endure during these 40 weeks up through and after the main event. Sure, it’s fun to read that the baby is the size of a grape or a plum or a Pony-keg, but 90% of the rest of the book contains warnings like eating Lucky Charms while pregnant is bad for your baby*. It’s so scary, in fact, that I initially thought it was a Stephen King book.**

3)      Do read Jenny McCarthy’s pregnancy book "Belly Laughs". Yes, she is generally a total kook, but her pregnancy book is hilarious and she gives practical advice for both men and women. Trust me on this one.

4)      Go to restaurants you really enjoy. Once Junior arrives you may still be able to go there occasionally, but you’ll be eating so fast you won’t taste the food as you shovel it down your gullet while getting an earful of screaming from your Mini-Me and dirty looks from the nearby tables.  Eating out basically becomes the dining equivalent of doing a beer bong. 

5)      Don’t let Babies R Us employees guilt you into registering for or, even worse, actually buying a roomful of unnecessary contraptions your baby doesn’t really need. Unless you live in an igloo, your baby probably can survive without heated wipes.

6)      Go to the movies as much as possible. Once the baby arrives, you won’t be able to see another movie where Reese Witherspoon can’t figure out that the handsome guy she’s been bickering with actually likes her, without spending $100 in the process, for YEARS. (This is actually kind of a good thing.)

This means war...on quality cinema. 

7)      On a related note, don’t ever watch a birthing video. It’s one of those retina-scarring things that you can’t unwatch. Sort of like a Reese Witherspoon movie.***    

8)      Maximize use of the “Expectant Mother” parking spaces everywhere you can. Your window is small, much like your wife’s bladder for the next few months. If men and women are truly equal partners, there should be no problem with Dudes using these spaces. Even if you are going to pick up some hunting gear or a new flat-screen for your man cave. 

9)      Speaking of her compromised bladder, don’t drive fast over speed bumps and pot holes. (Exceptions: if you put down plastic sheeting on the seat first or if you are trying to induce labor.)

10)   If debating baby names with your wife, pick a name you like then throw in options like “Google”, “Kanye” or “Caligula”.  That context will make your first choice much more appealing.

I hope this list helps as you travel down the path toward unimaginable insomnia.  To quote Robert Hunter: “Believe it if you need it, if you don’t, just pass it on.” 

What advice would YOU give to expectant Dudes?

*=that may not be actual claim from the book, but I remember reading stuff like that and subsequently not letting my wife read the book after the first trimester.

**= They are making a movie based on the book. It looks pretty funny. Hopefully less mucus-related stories than the book.
***= Exception to the rule: Election. Tracy Flick rules.

I'm linking up with the wonderful Stasha this week. She asked for a list of 10 things we are good at and I think the above is a sign of how good of a "pregnant husband" I am :)

As always, I am linking up with Erica and the Yeah Write gang. 

Come check out some amazing writers and vote for your favorites on Thursday.