Conquering Parental Anxiety, with a Car Seat

In my almost 5 years of parenting I’ve changed thousands of diapers, fed a comparable number of bottles, lost incalculable hours of much-needed sleep and had myriad Pixar movies’ images permanently burned into my corneas after perpetual viewings.

Parenting the two Junior Dudes has introduced me to activities that not only had I never done before, but many that I didn’t even know existed before I became a father. Siphoning the snot out of their congested little noses, anyone?

There is one invaluable parenting exercise, however, which I had intentionally avoided doing since even before Day 1: I never learned how to install a car seat. Though I’ve never acknowledged it before now, I admit that not knowing how to do something as vital as this has been a source of guilt. So you’re probably wondering why an extremely hands-on father like me never learned how to install a car seat and the answer is simple.

Insecurity.

Not wanting to fail as a father has been an ongoing fear since long before I actually became one and I don’t think that’s abnormal. I frequently tell my boys, and myself, that my primary objectives are making sure they are always fed, healthy & safe.  

When we went to get our first infant seat installed a week before the Little Dude was born, it was my 37-weeks-pregnant wife maneuvering in the back seat of her Prius watching the Installation Guru finesse the intimidating harnesses and straps into place. I was afraid that when called upon to install a car seat in a real setting, I would do it wrong and my son would somehow get hurt as a result. So I strongly encouraged my wife, who is much better with attention to detail than I’ll ever be, to learn the process. And for 4 ½ years, she’s moved the seats in and out of our cars like a professional.

So I decided to finally do something about it.

When the Britax people asked if we wanted to test out their Advocate "UltimateComfort Series" car seat*, it seemed like the perfect opportunity to finally learn this skill I desperately wanted but had long avoided. Since we’ve used Britax car seats for years, and I felt confident that they’ve been keeping my boys safe, this was my golden opportunity to finally practice what I preach.

I opened the box and read the instruction booklet cover to cover. I felt comforted knowing Britax’s patented HUGS Chest Pads would be hugging the Littler Dude safely in his seat, since I can’t do it myself while driving. The technology Britax created to minimize the force a child encounters in the unexpected event of an accident is vital and the seat’s Integrated Steel Bars lock its connection to the car, reducing forward movement during a crash. There are countless features Britax includes to make sure that kids stay safe in the (Heaven Forbid) event of an accident. Those are the nightmares no parent wants to think about, but I feel better knowing Britax is looking out for my kids like they are their own.

Since both of my boys are near the top of their respective growth charts, it’s reassuring to know that the 19-month-old Littler Dude can stay in this Advocate until he’s 65 pounds (and 49” tall), which should be at least another year (hopefully 4).  

When the moment of truth finally happened, when it was time to personally ensure my son’s day-to-day safety, I brought the owner’s manual and one more essential asset out to the driveway to help me install my first car seat: my wife.

I expected a barrage of obstacles and challenges, but the truth is the actual installation took less than 10 minutes start to finish. Like a child afraid to try a new food, only to discover it’s delicious, I conquered a critical piece of self-doubt that had plagued me for 4 ½ years. Knowing how safe and well-built Britax products are, I have no doubt that the Littler Dude will be safe in his new Advocate. Plus, now that I know first-hand how LATCH connectors and the Five-Point Harness work, I feel extra confident that my sons are in good hands…and comfy seats. (Did I mention that it's called the UltimateComfort Series partly because the headrests and seat itself are Memory Foam?)  

Though I’m still a car seat novice, I can rest assured knowing that the Littler Dude clearly appreciates at least one essential feature of his Advocate: Britax’s True Side Impact Protection, or as he likely views it, a cozy place to rest his head.

I think he likes it. 

Disclaimer: Though I was given an Advocate UltimateComfort Series car seat by Britax for review purposes, I was not compensated otherwise for this post. All opinions contained within are 100% mine, for better or worse. Also, I wish they made these in my size so I could sit on Memory Foam whenever I'm in the car. 

*= The Advocate Ultimate Comfort Series is available exclusively at Babies R Us. 

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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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Sleepless Sunday Morning at the Dude's House

Its 6:15 on Sunday morn, why am I awake?

I’ve got one son who passed out early last night after a Spring day filled with T-ball and his first pool day of the year and another who wouldn’t go to sleep ‘til half past acceptable o’clock. Surely they’ll be up soon.

I’ll just check Instagram, that should do the trick and I’ll be back asleep in no time. Check out some pics of other peoples’ more interesting Saturday nights before resting my eyes for a few more minutes of glorious early morning shuteye, the kind I dream of all week long.

Nope, nothing too exciting. Maybe I’ll see how many people Liked my clever Facebook status posted before I went to sleep. Ooh, 9 friends think I’m witty. This just might be a good day.

I’ll close my eyes again and maybe I can still get another 20 minutes before one of them is definitely going to be up by 6:45, which inevitably happens every day.

The birds are singing and the sun is blasting through my blinds. Today I curse you Daylight Savings.

Tossing and turning to no avail with ears pierced by a snoring dog across the room, maybe I’ll get those last 10 mins. I’m not even going to say minutes because I don’t want to waste time. Oops.

6:50am: How is it possible that A) I’m still awake and B) No one else is?  I don’t even know where to begin.

Now that’s it 7:00 and this is anarchy is still permeating in both directions, maybe I’ll run out and get bagels. What a great Sunday surprise when everyone finally gets up, right? Eh, the bagel store’s probably not open yet since it’d be cruel and unusual punishment for the employees.

Forgot to plug in my phone last night and now its battery’s down to 3%, it’s make or break time. Should I get out of bed and plug it in or stay for the inevitable momentary exodus from the boys’ room into ours which definitely must be imminent?

Check the news Apps: nothing good and certainly nothing that will help me rest easily at this point.

Seriously.

Seriously.

Seriously.

How can I find the number for Guinness Book of World Records? Certainly this qualifies.

Wait! Maybe I should actually try to be productive. I’ve heard that’s something people do in the morning sometimes.

Ugh, need to restart my computer since I for-some-unknown-reason shut it down last night.

Loading. Loading. Loading.

Open new document.

Type first three words of potential Nobel Prize winning essay.  

They’re awake.

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

My Second Baby Shower

Red Carpet Entrance -- It's how I roll. 

Having been inaugurated into the world of baby showers last year, when I attended Big City Moms’ L.A. Biggest Baby Shower, I had a more focused mission in mind for my second go-round. While last year I didn’t know what to expect before it arrived, kind of like when I first became a father, this year I was much more prepared, like the second time I became a father, and my goal was to scope out which new parenting essentials might be of most interest to Dude-Fathers.  

The 2014 LA Biggest Baby Shower was held recently at the picturesque Skirball Center in Bel Air, CA, where the last time I visited I did an archaeological dig with the Little Dude. For this visit I also explored with unknown expectations and I left pleasantly surprised by the results. (Much better than that decoy clay pot we found last time.)

Just to make sure I had the energy to make it through a 3-hour-long event after another very short night of sleep thanks to the Junior Dudes, immediately upon entering the venue I jumpstarted my system with some Sprinkles Cupcakes that were sweeter than my kids while at a toy store. Their triple-cinnamon cupcake was epic, BTW.

Since the Junior Dudes seem prone to simultaneous chronic runny noses, allergies and any other conditions that I can classify their nasal leakage as, I was quite intrigued by the new Clearinse Nasal Cleansing System I discovered. My guess is that my boys’ condition likely stems genetically from my own sinus issues, and I know that saline irrigation helps better than anything else since I use it every day myself. As a result, I am eager to try out the Clearinse system the next time they are congested to see how it works, especially since it was created by a Pediatrician who is also a father. Here’s hoping it’s nothing to sneeze at. (Sorry.) 

After checking out the vast selection of stroller and car seat brands from around the world like Peg Perego, Orbit and Quinny at the Shower, and learning about their myriad unique bells-and-whistles, I was most interested in Britax’s new collection of boosters and car seats that are supposed to be super easy to install. Especially since I have never actually installed a car seat, but would like to learn how. Someday. Seriously. 

Britax: Cool gear and smiling faces. 

Daddy and Company was showing another great gift collection for both expectant and experienced fathers. Their Daddy Scrubs remain the one elusive item I wish I’d had before we went into the hospital when Mrs. Dude gave birth, since the hospital-issued scrubs were as comfortable as cardboard covered in paste and made an already nerve-wracking day even more stressful. I also saw some great gift items for Dudes’ Day Fathers’ Day, that I’d like to receive. (Hint, hint) 

I saw some cool new products from Ergo, updates of some items my family doesn’t use anymore and that (briefly) made me want to have another kid. Also, a magical homeopathic elixir called Camilia that is so good at helping relieve teething pain that my Littler Dude, who’d just gotten like 6 teeth in a month when I attended the event, was immediately cured the day after I got home…and I hadn’t even given him the medicine yet. That stuff is nails.

There was one brand at the event which I was both very familiar with and most eager to meet, because I’ve used their product since roughly the day I became a father. When Mrs. Dude was first pregnant, I was totally clueless as to what we actually needed for parenting beside a baby. I told her to register for whatever she wanted and the one thing I’m grateful for is my Diaper Dude diaper bag. Unlike most diaper bags it’s not covered in flowers, paisley or teddy bears and is designed with Dudes in mind. Sold.  I got a sneak preview of some of their new Major League Baseball licensed diaper bags and Dude-and-son matching gift sets. Seriously, these bags are rad and made with Dads in mind, and briefly made me want to have triplets, just for all the new bags.  

The Dude of the House and the Diaper Dude finally meet. Dude!

Now with 2 Biggest Baby Showers under my belt, I can say that there truly is a place at these events for Dudes/Dads both to-be and already-are. There is no shortage of great gear, and thankfully there is a vast enough assortment of vendors to really gain an objective view of the market, which is really the most important thing, IMO. Just because one stroller is great for me, it might not be for you. That’s why the Biggest Baby Showers are truly valuable, because you can meet the people who truly know the ins and outs of the products, because in many cases they created them! Every baby is different and so are their needs. Go spend a night with the Big City Moms when they hit your town and find what’s right for you and yours.  

Though I was not compensated for this post, I was given complimentary admission to the Big City Moms’ L.A. Biggest Baby Shower and I thank them for hosting me. All opinions expressed in this post are mine alone, for better or worse.

Why I'm Not Afraid of The Shamrock Shake

You know it’s going to be an off-kilter day when you wake up with a neck kinked so badly that you can’t turn your head and it’s not even the worst thing that happens before you get out of bed that morning.

Today is St. Patrick’s Day for some people and plain old Monday to others. And for those of us who live in Los Angeles, it’ll be remembered for The Shamrock Shake earthquake that jolted hundreds of thousands awake at 6:25AM and started our days and weeks off a little more frightened than normal.

This summer marks 15 years that I’ve lived in Los Angeles and I’ve experienced my share of quakes during that tenure. But today’s quake was a bit different than every other I’ve experienced, and if you haven’t lived through one, it is definitely an experience. And not the kind you want to unnecessarily have.

Before today I hadn’t actually felt an earthquake in many years, maybe five, probably more. Maybe it’s because I grew up in Ohio where earthquakes occur only slightly more frequently than Halley’s Comet appearances and its more novelty than anything else when they do. Or maybe it’s because I didn’t grow up here in LA, as my wife did, and wasn’t forced to live through the destruction of “the big one”, the Northridge Quake, which celebrated its 20^th anniversary just a few weeks ago, as she did. It’s not that I don’t take tremblors seriously, but I’ve just never let them burrow into my psyche. Until today.

Living in fear is a difficult way to make it through calendar flips and not something I like to propagate. But now that I have my two boys I guess my view is a bit askew.

You see, this morning when I felt that first telltale shake, my 4-year-old Little Dude had just woken up and was in the bathroom for his morning pee. It took me a second to calculate what was happening when I felt the ground’s movement and I’ve been through quakes before. Imagine being a toddler whose life awareness is expanding exponentially on a daily basis. To him, everything is still new and as he reminds me several times per day, “Everything is Awesome!” Thankfully my son doesn’t yet know about the reality of natural disasters. To him, this was like his first time in a bounce house again. After a minute of curiosity, he just wanted to watch Chuggington.  

But what if we hadn’t been so lucky as to only suffer a few tipped picture frames today? The quake’s epicenter was about 10 miles from where we live, which is not very far in earthquake terms. How do we explain these things that no one wants to talk about to our kids, these mysteries of the unknown that appear in our realties usually only after affecting us in very destructive ways.

These local anchors were not expecting this today. 

The first inclination might be to move. I knew that was where Mrs. Dude’s mind was headed as soon as I felt the first big wave. But no place in this country, or any other, is perfect. Just yesterday L.A. had cloudless blue skies and 95 degree “winter” weather despite much of the country still being buried waist deep in snowdrifts despite Spring’s commencement just a few days away. The South has hurricanes, North has blizzards and Midwest tornados, not to mention dust storms, thunderstorms, drought and other plagues that Mother Nature unexpectedly confronts us all with to keep us on our toes and insurance companies in business.

As parents we don’t have time to freak out about everything that could happen. We must be prepared for those freak instances when they actually do occur, inevitably at the worst possible times, like the infant who desperately needs a new diaper the moment you pull out of the driveway. Managing adversity and predicting the unpredictable are instincts that parents must possess for our children are our most valuable assets, the kind worth sacrificing everything for if need be.

So as the ground shook, and my older son finished his business, my next thought was where’s the baby and should we go grab him? Checking the video monitor next to my bed he was sound asleep in his crib and had somehow missed the whole event, true irony considering how light of a sleeper he usually is. Though the grass may always seem greener on the other side after one of these incidents shakes us up, we regrouped as a unit and moved forward with our day. Unafraid. 

Why I Hate the Winter Olympics

When the Seattle Seahawks annihilated the Denver Broncos earlier this month in the Super Bowl, among other things it meant that self-proclaimed “Football Widows” received their spouses back until training camps begin over the summer. What I personally didn’t anticipate was becoming a Sports Widower myself less than a week later.

In the interest of full disclosure, I will admit that I’m a big sports fan. I’m also a long-suffering one as I grew up a Cleveland sports fan. If you’re not a sports fan, I can best explain being a Cleveland sports fan like being the punchline in a nightmare. Anything that could go wrong inevitably does in the most publically embarrassing way. But I’ve grown to live with that. And now that I live on the West Coast with two young sons I seldom make time to sit through many games these days that aren’t Go Fish.  

So how did I come to find myself in the position of asking my non-sports fan wife approximately every 15 minutes every night for the last 2 weeks “is this almost over?” Two words: Winter Olympics.

Don’t get me wrong, I couldn’t be any more pro-American if I had a pet Bald Eagle named Uncle Sam. I just can’t get into the Winter Olympics, no matter how half-heartedly I try. As I mentioned, I grew up in the Midwest, about 20 minutes from a place where I could have gone skiing every winter for 20+ years and opted to never do so. Intentionally. Unlike Elsa from Frozen, the cold always bothered me anyway.

Over the decade-plus my wife and I have been together, I’ve tried watching some of the Winter Olympic Games with her. However, beyond that I have a hard time recognizing it as a sport, spending time watching sequined couples “Ice Dancing” just doesn’t do it for me.

From what I’ve seen the primary objective of at least half of the Winter Olympic events could be listed as “not dying”. Hell, there’s a sport where the “athlete” lies face down on a tiny metal sled going 80+mph down a curvy icy chute, which is actually called “Skeleton”. Foreshadowing much?

This Skeletoner is laying still like a corpse.
How is this a sport?

Then there’s the Biathlon which combines that natural duo of skiing and shooting a rifle which so many people seemingly do every day. I’d call that Polar Military Training before I’d call it a sport. What about Cross Country, which most people who live in cold weather places refer to as “walking on snow”.

And don’t even get me started on Curling, a “sport” which my housekeeper could likely medal in based on her expert-level proficiency at removing piles of Cheerios from the floor with a broom.

As if their "sport" didn't make them look silly enough...

I was sitting with my wife the other night while she watched the 1^st of something like 86 rounds of some skiing event and kept hearing the announcers mention Rosa Khoutour, which I assumed was some sort of Russian fashion brand. Turns out it’s a mountain. Who would have known?

The centerpiece of the Winter Olympics is always the Figure Skating events, and those have eaten up a big chunk of my TiVo for the last 10 nights. No interest. I didn’t even like Blades of Glory and that starred Ron Burgundy and Napoleon Dynamite, two of the funniest dudes from the last decade.

Part of my ancestry actually stems from Russia and I still couldn’t be less interested in a “Homeland vs. Birthland” story line if NBC created one specifically about me, like the packages they show about athletes suffering from hangnails, misplaced iPhones and other tragedies.

The truth is that the most interesting part of the Olympic coverage to me so far has been Bob Costas’ Pink Eye, which would be a great name for a punk-rock band. Bob’s Oozing Oculars (another good band name) has kept me wondering what kind of medical attention he’s getting that he couldn’t work at an event he’d probably be preparing 6 months to a year in advance for. Who is his MD, Dr. Frankenstein?

The good news is that the games will be over in a few more days and I’ll get 4 glorious sequin-less years until they resume. How long until baseball season begins?

Dad 2.0: Quest for the King

Shuffling zombie-like through the damp cloud-covered streets of the French Quarter, I had one last critical goal to accomplish before heading to the Louis Armstrong Airport in New Orleans last Sunday morning. After an inspirational and aspirational weekend at the 3^rd Dad 2.0 Summit it was going to be a race against the clock to complete my mission. 

As one of only a few dozen attendees of all three Dad 2.0s, I had different objectives this year than during the two previous. The first year I was just a newbie blogger who really had no clue why I was there. The second year I went seeking something intangible and as a byproduct stumbled onto something quite tangible. For this go around, though, I had two key objectives and I knew neither would be easy.

New Orleans has special meaning to my family, even though I’d only been there once before this trip, as that’s where Mrs. Dude went to grad school. Just a few months after she graduated and moved back to L.A., we met and 11 years later, here we are now. So when I learned the location of this year’s conference it was with great hesitation that I dared even mention going to her favorite place without her. And being the saint she is, she knew there was a greater purpose and encouraged me to go.

The most unique aspect of this 300-person congregation, unlike any other I’ve ever been to, is the warm inviting feeling conveyed by every single person there. I got to reconnect with old friends and finally meet face-to-face friends whom I’d only known online before. That’s what this conference is all about. Camaraderie. Brotherhood. Empathy. Everyone at Dad 2.0 is in the same boat, even though some are dinghies and some are yachts: every person there wants to be a better parent. Honestly.

For me, the last year has been both wonderful and exasperating. As a result some facets of my life have suffered, like my blog. Trying to compose 700 pithy words when I’m falling asleep in my reheated dinner at 9:00pm has been much more difficult than I expected. Since the Littler Dude arrived, I’ve had a very hard time juggling all the chainsaws I have in the air. It’s a wonderful problem to have, but also uber-challenging. So my chief mission at Dad 2.0 this year was finding that inspiration again, that spark that helped me spit out witty blog posts like peanut shells at a Dodgers game when I started Dude of the House nearly 3 years ago. Little did I know that I’d get my mojo back within 2 hours of the event’s kickoff.

The first morning opened with an inspiring video showing the progress Dads have made in the media over the last 1000 days since Dad 2.0 was first conceptualized:

Jim Higley and Jason Katims

That video was followed in short succession by a welcome from Rob Candelino of Dove Men+Care, one of the few mainstream brands that truly gets us; then an opening keynote conversation with Jason Katims, Executive Producer of NBC’s Parenthood and Bobblehead Dad himself, Jim Higley. The insight into Jason’s creative process and how his own challenging experiences as a father greatly shaped the direction his show has taken was inspiring to a wannabe TV writer like me. 

At last year’s conference in Houston, Brene Brown spoke about vulnerability. This year in New Orleans, Lorne Jaffe exemplified it. It’s hard to put into words how inspiring he truly was.

It was later that first afternoon when I was able to cross Critical Mission #1 off my list: an intimate roundtable discussion with Carter Gaddis of DadScribe, where I learned more about writing in 25 minutes than in the last 2.5+ years I’ve been blogging. I won’t divulge Carter’s storytelling secrets here, rather I hope they’ll add life and color to this blog in the very near future.

Among other important lessons I learned in ‘Nawlins:

• Getting my butt sketched was much more cool than I thought it would be.

• Lee Jeans not only still exists, they actually are pretty awesome.

• Holding an alligator is not something I hope to do again anytime soon, even though my having done so totally delighted the Little Dude.  

• It’s possible to be away from 2 sons for 3 nights and sleep even less than I would at home.

Feeling guilty about leaving my wife with 2 kids meant I could not return home empty-handed, which is why I was roaming the Quarter’s broken beer-scented cobblestone early last Sunday morning. I was on a mission to bring Mrs. Dude a King Cake as a token of appreciation and a fond reminder of her, and now my, time in NoLA.

After consulting Yelp for the best/closest King Cake joint open that early, I headed out for breakfast at Café Beignet, only to discover they had just sold out which meant I was likely going home empty-handed. Thankfully a kind eavesdropper who’d overheard of my quest guided me to a local market about a half-mile down the street.

Speedwalking down the blocks as my glasses fogged up from the mist, I searched frantically for the correct address and prayed they’d have one little King Cake with my name on it. Entering Rouse’s nervously, I was back on the street in 30 seconds with a giant frosted cinnamon sweet under my arm and 8 hours until home. Mission Complete.