How To Get A Princess To Behave

I was chatting with a fellow Dad at my daughter’s preschool about his son’s crazy obsession with Batman. The costume(s), the jumping off sofa and maybe occasional building; the permanent bat cave installation under the dining table, and the special Batman diet of only potato chips and hot dogs.
I told him he had it easy, my daughter is obsessed with Princesses. Which is just like Batman if he wore pink and sang to animals.

I’m not sure exactly when this all happened; maybe sometime around her 2nd birthday when somebody showed her the Cinderella movie for about 5 minutes. That’s when it became her crack.
At times it can be annoying:

“No, mice aren’t going to pick up that mess you’ve made”
“No, that magic wand isn’t going to make that kid playing with your toys disappear”

At times it can be used for my advantage:

“If you don’t behave (holding cell phone to ear) I’m calling Cinderella and she’s going to ask for her stuff back!”

So far, my 3 years of parenting has taught me the "Princess" method sometimes works much better than "time-out" method.
Recently we had the opportunity to see Julie Andrews and a certain Mom asked her if she had any advice for a little Princess.
She did and this is what she said (in her really cool accent):

Princess Rules
A Princess always uses “Please” and “Thank You”
A Princess always thinks of others before herself
A Princess never slouches

Although good, I don’t think there are nearly enough especially for a 3-year old. So I’ve added a few to the list:

Princess Rules (v.2 additions)
A Princesses ALWAYS go poop on the potty.
A Princess NEVER whines.
A Princess NEVER asks, “What are we going to eat?” after leaving a restaurant.
A Princess NEVER watches the Doodlebops, Dora, Yo Gabba Badda, or the new Beverly Hills “90210”

Old School, Preschool, and Colonel Sanders

My daughter started preschool this morning and it did not go as I had envisioned...

She being nervous while packing lunch, difficulty getting dressed, walking her to the classroom with her hand clenching mine, huge puppy eyes and tears as I’m about to leave, screaming “Daddy! Daddy! Don’t leave me… I love you!!” as I walked away quickly, but maybe stopping a few times waving and whispering “I love you too, now go back to your classroom and learn the proper use of safety scissors...” as I backed into and disappeared in a fog with Obi-Wan Kenobi and Dean Martin patting me on the back assuring me that I am a good dad.

That's what I expected. In reality it went something like this:

Packing lunch – “No…I want to do it all BY MYSELF!”
Dressing - “No…I want to do it all BY MYSELF!”
In the car pulling up to the school “Drop me off…O.K…I see you later O.K!”

Uh no! I’m walking to your classroom and I BETTER SEE TEARS WHEN I LEAVE!!!!

I can just imagine what kindergarten is going to be like; she’ll probably end up telling me to drop her off down the street.

Happy Birthday To The Man That Invented Chicken in a Bucket!

And to think I almost forgot... thankfully some cool folks reminded me.

It’s hard to imagine, but prior to the birth of Harland David Sanders in 1890 nobody even thought about putting fried chicken in a bucket.

It wasn’t until his 3rd birthday on a farm in Henryville, Indiana while packing lunch for his first day preschool that he told his father, General Sanders, “Father General, I would like the pleasure of preparing my own meal for today’s schooling. Sir.”
When his father of little words nodded in agreement, young Harland instantly put 14 pieces of fried chicken with 11 herbs and spices in a red, white, and black cardboard bucket.

And then with his chicken bucket and Princess backpack in hand, his dad took young Sanders to school.

And he didn't even acknowledge his father as he walked away from his classroom - not even a wave.

And his father was so upset that he didn't want to eat fried chicken anymore. But then he got over it and went through the drive-thru anyways.

All Of My Friends Are Having Babies, And They Already Have One

There was a time when the wife and I were married for a few years and would hear things like “When are you having a baby?!”, “Are you pregnant!?”, “Why are you waiting so long?!”, “Why don’t you get a haircut?!”
When we finally did the next thing we heard was “It’s about freakin’ time!”

Really? What time is that? Because the only time I know is “Hammertime”

Then when our daughter was around 6-months-old people (primarily family) started it all over again…
“When are you having ANOTHER baby!?”, “Are you pregnant?!”, “You’re not really a parent until you have, like 6”, “Why don’t you get a haircut!”

What’s wrong with you people?! One is tough enough! Haven’t you heard of college tuition rising faster than inflation and $3,000 Miley Montana concert tickets!?

Good Times.

Somewhere in all that chaos we were fortunate enough to find solace with 2 other couples that, like us, had 1 child (girls) around the same age of ours.

It was awesome.

We did “play dates” with them to all sorts of fun places, even to a few that were still a little “nice” since the kids couldn’t get too out of control because we adults outnumbered them 2 to 1.
“Sit in your seat” They sat
“No, you can’t touch daddy’s liquor. Here drink some milk” And they would listen and drink their milk.
“Sing us some Lionel Richie” And they all sang “Dancing On the Ceiling” in unison.

Oh what a feelin’, when were all 1-child families…

What Happened?

Yes, all was good in the world until about 3 weeks ago when our 1-child "friends" welcomed their 2nd child at virtually the same time.

Oh great! What are we going to do now…?!

I’m happy for them, really I am. But I'd wished they had thought more about my vision of happy 1-child families before going off and having another one.

Sometimes people can be so inconsiderate...

Solution.

So today I've finally come up with a few options to remedy the situation at hand:

1. Have another one so we can join the club.
2. Find new friends with one child.
3. Get a haircut.
4. Ask our current longtime hitched friends with no children, “When are you having a baby?!” “Are you pregnant!?” “Why are you waiting so long!?”

My daughter caught wind of her friends new baby brothers and is now whining at me, saying things like “I want a baby brother like Audrey and Maya!!”

I've told her she could have one only is she promises to feed him, take him for walks, and cleans up after him in the yard.

The Wife Thinks I’m Crazy?!

It wasn’t the Elvis impersonator at our daughter’s 1st birthday, my potty training methods, the imaginary monster extermination ideas, my obsession with KFC/Spice Girls/Golden Girls/Circus Midgets/Real Estate Agent Pictures/Lionel Richie’s Mustache, or 98% of the weird stuff I've done and then write about.

Nope, none of that!

It was the 12-foot inflatable screen I got to play classic 80’s/70’s drive-in movies in the backyard for my daughter, friends, neighbors, and family.

(so awesome…)

About a month ago I came across a website which showcases crazed parents (primarily dads) that have created all kinds of cool drive-in theater setups in their backyards. These guys have huge screens, fancy projectors, nice sound systems, and even edit their own old classic drive-in intermission bumpers and cartoons. Amazing.

I don’t think I ever wanted anything this bad. Ever.
OK, except maybe ‘the Omnibot’ when I was 8.

Anyhow, it arrived on Friday just a day after scoring a great deal on a really nice projector (Sharp XR-32S – which works beautifully with my Macbook Pro.)
Now I have plans to do backyard showings of “Star Wars”, “E.T.”, “The Muppet Movie”, “Raiders of the Lost Ark”, “The Dark Crystal”, “Back to the Future”, “Gremlins”, “Ghostbusters”, “The Goonies”, “Pee-Wee’s Big Adventure”, “PS3 Guitar Hero Playoffs” and all other kinds of cool classic drive-in movies.

While the 3 of us were watching Pixar’s Cars, holding my daughter with the biggest smile ever, my wife turns to me with enthusiasm and said, “We should totally watch Xanadu!”



I think my wife is crazy.

3rd Blogiversary!

It seems like it was only yesterday when this blog was created, with a 3-week old baby who had absolutely no concept of what 3am or sleeping meant, was in my arms.

Back then I wasn’t sure about what I was going to “blog” about. Maybe about art, or design, or post my sketches. Or maybe about monkeys with handguns, mustaches and top hats or something like that.
But whatever it was, it was going to be temporary because I had other things to do like write a novel, a movie script, illustrate 10 books, and learn to speak French & Japanese while taking flying lessons.

But then I got sidetracked…

I started writing about family life, my KFC obsession, strange men’s facials, parenting, Ohio, breast milk (*shivers*), among countless of other weird things I thought nobody (except my wife or that angry in-law in Ohio because I'd never heard of a "buck-eye" before) would ever read.

Now that my daughter is 3 I keep wondering how long I'll keep this up. Maybe it's when the wife doesn’t pay attention to my gift suggestions about Christmas and Father’s day gifts anymore? Maybe it's when I finally own an island in the South Pacific? Or maybe it could be when my daughter is old enough to Google and finds out I’ve been writing about her for years and cries at me to STOP because I’m embarrassing her in kindergarten …?

I just don’t know. Although the wife ignoring gift suggestions definitely justifies an end.

CTD Highlights
Favorite posts over this past year:

• An open letter to the wife regarding fathers day
• Whats its like calling the poison control centerMother's day coloring pages that you won't find anywhere else
• The Easter bunny must be living large in beverly hills
• I'm preparing for my daughter’s kindergarten interview
• A message to toddlers: nose picking is very unpatriotic!
• My daughter’s imaginary friend: an unauthorized biography
• When 'time outs' don’t work
• I have a poop obsessed child AND the monster is in the mail
• Exterminator wanted! apparently my house is infested with monsters *Popular
• What? santa claus makes toddlers behave...
• Potty training coloring pages *Popular
• Colonel sanders and santa claus must be brothers or just angels sent from heaven
• Halloween night randomness! Pet parents, pimps, and...
• I think they may take away my man card
• Are you there God? It’s me Tony…what’s happening to me!?

And some favorites over the last 3 years:
1st year links
2nd year links

The post that started it all...
Confessions of bunny killer

A Colonel of Your Very Own

When I was a kid, maybe around my daughter’s age or perhaps older, Kentucky Fried Chicken use to give away some pretty cool plastic hand puppets of Colonel Sanders.
McDonald's later caught on to the puppet fever and released their own plastic hand puppets of Grimace, Ronald, and I think that weird bird that couldn’t fly because she ate too many Fry Guys... I don't remember her name.
No matter, everybody knew those hand puppets weren’t nearly as cool as “The Colonel” - at least in my area of the world.

I use to play with my Colonel Sanders plastic hand puppet all the time. It use to battle with my Gobots (‘The Colonel’ would always win fights with his signature drumstick chop torpedo of doom), I would draw with it (I swear I could draw better with it on, maybe it was the magic of 11 herbs and spices), and sometimes it would be my only friend at 1am when my mom finally came home from work smelling like alcohol and cigarettes (“Colonel, why do mother and father fight so much…?”)

I miss that hand puppet(s)

I don't want to recreate the past, but I can recreate the Colonel. So I’ve created a "Colonel" Paper Craft updated for a new generation complete with his cane, signature white suit, and of course bucket of that finger lickin' good chicken (with 11 unknown magical herbs and spices from the planet Kentucky.)

This is what he looks like built...

...and here’s the Printable to make your very own:

(Click to download)

My daughter thinks he needs a friend so maybe I'll make a Lionel Richie one next...

So This Is What It Feels Like When Doves Cry…

(It’s that time of year again; my annual letter to my daughter on her birthday.)



Miss Bean (or as you now call yourself “Princess Sunshine Sparkles”),

Happy 3rd Birthday! I can’t believe how fast this past year has gone by. It amazes me how much you’ve changed in so little time; the transition from a baby to a beautiful, smart, and clever little girl with a strong personality still completely fascinates me.


A few things I’ve enjoyed this past year watching you grow:

• Drawing on the driveway with chalk together, making up funny roads, games, and monster characters.
• Hearing your stories about your imaginary friend “Captain Hippo."
  
• Playing Wii (Duck Hunt) together and yelling “Ah man!” right after I yell “Ah man!” among a few other unfortunate things your mom shouldn't know about.
  
• Helping me with small chores around the house such as loading the dishwasher, caring for the dog, and taking out the trash. I hope you still like doing chores next year.
• Paying the cashier for lunch at some restaurant with the 4 pennies you found on the ground while saying “it’s OK daddy, I pay for it with my money’s”
• Listening to you sing your interpretation of songs over, and over, and over again.
• Cooking in your play kitchen, making me guacamole soup and chocolate tea for breakfast.
• Driving by a KFC and you yelling out "Look Daddy! Yummy chicken place!!" (that would bring a tear to any colonel's eye...)
  

Your favorite things at this moment:

Dressing up as a princess, sparkle roll-on, Disneyland, watching movies on my iPhone, popcorn (or "crackcorn" as you call it), making “art”. DVD’s Enchanted, Tarzan, Cars, Incredibles, Lilo & Stitch, Cinderella, Mary Poppins, Dumbo, and Rambo (just kidding! That’s one of my favorites.)

Putting you to bed tonight on the eve of your birthday made me realize how much I’m going to miss you at 2. But at the same time I’m really looking forward to what new adventures and memories we'll have together at 3.

Love,
Daddy

What To Tell a Toddler When the Family Pet Dies…

We came home this afternoon and discovered that our Beagle, Mr. Monkey, had died.

We knew it was coming for some time, about 2 years since the vet initially predicted because of his age and ails; but now that it has the grief and the guilt are kicking in. What has me really distressed is that I had a weird feeling about him last Thursday when he began losing his appetite. Now I have remorse knowing that I should have jumped on my instincts and taken him to the vet.

God, just the thought of him suffering alone with nobody around is just eating me up inside. I never wanted it to happen like that…

Mr. Monkey’s Origins

We found him at a Beagle rescue over 7 years ago, the weekend after we moved into our house. When we saw him we knew he was “the one” because he was very low-key, gentle, and just wanted to sit near anybody who would be willing to pet him for awhile. He had the personality of a cat, but came in the package of a dog.
He did have some odd traits, such as he wouldn’t put anything in his mouth, except food; wouldn’t play catch or fetch. And he couldn’t bark as his previous owners had him “de-barked” (the first I had heard of such a thing – a very creepy practice.) In place of his barking he made whimpering noises, which resembled a monkey, thus his name was given. Except we added “Mr.” obviously influenced by Mr. T.
Eventually his vocal cords did grow back and he was able to bark, a little, sounding more like an old smoker than a dog.
When our daughter came along she just adored him. He of course, like most dogs when a new baby arrives, didn’t want anything to do with her until she became big enough to drop small pieces of food - on purpose.
In the last year or so she began helping me care for Mr. Monkey. Brushing him in the morning and evening, feeding him at night, and serving him his meds. She had lots of 'conversations' with him which was both fascinating and entertaining. At times she could be showing off some “pretty dress” of hers, telling him what she’s done most of the day, or asking him if he’s seen some random movie. According to her, he has and likes all kinds of movies and he 'really likes' her dresses.

Since this just happened tonight, I’m expecting her to ask for him in the morning. And now I’m searching for the right thing to tell her.
Just how do you explain death to a near 3-year old, especially when it’s a pet that they’ve seen everyday for their entire existence?

I really don’t know. The only thing I do know is that I’m really going to miss him…

And Open Letter to Lionel Richie

Dear Lionel Richie (great singer/songwriter of countless love songs including “Brick House”),

My daughter began ballet class today. Your song "Ballerina Girl" now makes sense.

Fellow sappy father,
Tony


While watching my daughter dancing around looking like an adorable little doll, Lionel’s song (Ballerina Girl, not Dancing on the Ceiling) suddenly jumped into my head. Later, the wife had informed me of the video featuring a Dad and his daughter - I investigated and saw something very creepy: That Dad in the video resembled somebody very familiar…

(Now where do I get a harp that glows with neon colors?)

Yup, that was me. Minus the ugly blue sweater and cool man-perm hair. But add a digital camera, video camera, and excessive smiling and waving, and you wouldn't know the difference. I can just imagine how ridiculous I’ve must of looked to the other parents, which happened to be all moms.
By the way, “Brick House” makes sense now too.

For Inquiring Minds – My Father’s Day Update

I did end up getting a nice little BBQ. Regrettably there was no Playstation 3, Xbox, Porsche, Italian-speaking parrot, or slave girl Princess Leia attached.

Although, the wife did break out a bucket of chicken, the spicy kind, while my daughter yelled out “SURPRISE!! Happy Birthday Daddy!!!”

Then we all ate, and I got to take a long nap. It was the best birthday ever.

How to Get a Toddler to Eat: Chapter 143

Apparently telling a 2-year old to eat because there are kids are starving somewhere in the world doesn’t work.

We’ve been having trouble this past week getting my daughter to eat. I’m not sure what happened or what caused this behavior; it’s as if she’s lost all interest in food. And to think just a few weeks ago she had the appetite of a construction worker.

Not anymore.

Half the time I’m not sure where she’s getting her energy from; I'm beginning to think maybe she feeding from the radiation off the TV. The wife doesn’t think that’s possible. Obviously she doesn’t watch The Discover Channel.
So I came up with an idea: I’ve invited her favorite stuffed animal, Mr.L.B., to join the family at the dinner table.


He has his own place setting, sits quietly at the table while he eats, behaves, uses his “please's” and “thank you's”, finishes all of his vegetables, and comes up with pleasant dinner conversion.
Well, except the time his favorite presidential candidate dropped out.
Anyhow, it seemed she loved the idea because she actually started eating a little. But I think she’s had enough because this morning I saw this in the bathroom trashcan:


It's time to come up with another idea.