Questionable Common Sense Advice

Not sure when exactly this happened but my daughter has suddenly gotten into giving advice.

Not only advice but also suggestions, guidance, and pretty unusual bits of information too. She’s been dishing it out to neighbors, babysitters, strangers, kids, adults, animals, manimals, and just about anything that listens.

In fact, when she saw me writing this she told me I needed more “T’s”.
Apparently it was lacking.

Some recent random bits:

• Don’t eat a hamburger outside. A bird could poop on it.
• Octopuses have lots of testicles, that’s why they’re so mad.
• At a museum it’s OK to touch your own art, but not anybody else’s.
• Never ever tell a cat he’s ugly.
• Lionel Richie eats at Souplantation, but only on Thursday.
• You can call Elvis “Chad” at any time.
• If you practice everyday, you can sing underwater.
• When you burp make sure a Tiger is not around.
• Everybody should have one pink dress.
• Crabs have families too; they just don’t draw pictures for each other.
• You need to be 125 to drive a car. You need to be 5 to get married.
• Don’t EVER shake a crocodiles’ hand.
• I don’t even know anybody that has a Kindle. Maybe a Monkey?

Now I'm having doubts about eating outside tomorrow as I'm taking a hamburger for lunch...

4th Blogiversary!

I can’t believe it’s been 4 years since I’ve started this blog. How different the world was back then with a 3 week old baby girl possessing the feeling of both excitement and anxiety of the unknown new world of parenthood.

This blogging of mine began late at night when our house felt more like a 24 diner with one demanding customer. Late night feedings quickly shifted from bad late-night TV to the Internet searching for other parents looking for tidbits of advice and insight (some still blog and are on the links to the right.) Then that slowly turned into my own writings about my own experiences and sometimes more than often random thoughts.

Over the years I’ve contemplated stopping for lack of time or sometimes significance, but then realized that these posts, no matter how random, personal, or infrequent document something that could be of interest to my daughter sometime in the future.

Or her future therapist, depending on who you’re talking to.

Highlights Over The Years:

If My Daughter Becomes a Vegetarian

The Elvis Impersonator Was Late to My Daughter’s 1st Birthday Party

KFC changes their chicken - My letter to Colonel Sanders

My kid saw me pee

Men are from Mars, In-Laws are from Uranus (and they watch Football)

Birthday party: Chuck E Cheese is one ANGRY rat

Thank YOU for being a friend (with a Wii)

Parents that wait in line for hard-to-find Christmas gifts

Get me a beer, I'm feeling pretty manly after changin' the oil

It's NOT a facial - It's a MEN's facial!!

An open letter to the wife regarding fathers day

Mother'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

How to Catch an Imaginery Monster

Exterminator wanted! apparently my house is infested with monsters *Popular

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...

HELP! I think they may take away my man card

Are you there God? It’s me Tony…what’s happening to me!?

Teaching Good Habits....with coloring pages

Annoying Cartoon Characters

How To Get a Princess to Behave

Swine Flu Sucks! A Lot!!

I don’t care what the doctor says; I blame the chocolate covered bacon I bought at the Fair.

Never in a million years did I ever expect that anybody in my family, or even anybody I knew, would ever get hit with some media scare worldwide epidemic. Boy was I wrong…

My daughter’s been learning about all kinds of animals in preschool the past few months and wanted to see some “real” ones. Apparently the ones on TV, in books, or I draw aren’t good enough for her anymore.

So here I thought, “Hey! The L.A. Zoo is pretty dirty and smelly so let’s avoid the place because we could get bird flu by just walking through the turnstiles.”
And “The L.A. Country Fairy is pretty dirty, smelly, scary, and last time I was there I ate a deep-fried Oreo and nearly died near the deep-fried pork chop on-a-stick wagon.”
But 5 years ago we paid a visit to the Orange County Fair down South and saw Huey Lewis in concert.

HUEY LEWIS!!

And they have dancing cows, acrobatic horses, race car driving pigs, chickens that play ragtime on piano’s while smoking cigars… you know things people normally don’t see everyday - except if you live in Fontana. But Huey Lewis would never visit Fontana.

What could be better, right?

It all happened just after the visit to the chocolate covered bacon cart… Oh, in case you’re wondering, it’s basically salad-style bacon bits in chocolate clusters, but packaged in a Chinese take-out box. It’s like salty chocolate - Weird!
So there we were watching the Chinese acrobats holding live horses, on their heads, and then the horses were speaking Chinese and stuff (“Don’t drop us! Don’t drop us!” – I understand Chinese fluently) and then my daughter says “Daddy I’m not feeling good…”

“Don’t worry, they’re not going to drop the horses anymore…”

Two days later we’re at the doctor and while he’s telling us the news (“You’re daughter has Influenza A, subtype H1N1 othewise known as…”) I’m thinking to myself does that mean my family has to join some leprosy style camp now far away somewhere, like Fontana, separated from civilization?

Thankfully we weren’t sent to Fontana (Thank God!) It just meant my daughter was sick for 3 more days, which wasn’t too bad. But then my wife got bronchitis after getting the plague, but then recovered after the week. And fortunately nobody turned into a pig or started squealing while sleeping like I’ve heard so much about on ‘the News.’

The lesson learned: don’t ever go outside again.

The Man’s Man and the Modern Man

Men from generations past are much different than the ones today.

For example, my Dad was a mixture of Dwayne F. Schneider , Rambo, and MacGyver. He could fix just about anything with duct tape, the Swiss army knife on his key chain, and if needed the clothes on his back.
One time our car broke down and he used his own belt to substitute the broken engine belt. It lasted just long enough to go get ice cream and then pull into the car shop – our garage.

He looked down on people that used things like, AAA, power tools, mechanics, air-conditioning, or bottled water ("use the water hose!")

Now that I’m older and a Dad, well I get pretty excited when I can hang a picture on the wall straight. And I do it only so I can use the leveler app on my iPhone. I love that app. And I love my friends at AAA.
I’m not anywhere near as handy as my Dad especially given my track record the past few years – fixing that broken toilet (story link here) which is still kind of broken but I’ve learned to live with the hissing. And the time I changed the oil in my car (story link here) with assistance.

My iPhone now has a pretty good handyman on voice controlled speed dial. I programmed it - wait for the beep and say “iPhone, get me the handyman on the phone… now!” and it does. And then I say, “Now continue playing more Depeche Mode songs” and it does.

My daughter just got a bike for her birthday and the little girl next door got one on the same weekend too. So two other Dads’ and me were outside on the driveway trying to put these things together with no luck for about an hour. Why 1,200 pieces is beyond me! They might as well just pack the box with raw sheet metal, flower stickers, and pink paint.
Anyhow there we all were, me with my iPhone looking up the manufactures website to send a complaint email, and the other guys with all sorts of tools spread out all over the ground. Some still in fancy cases all shiny and new, perfectly organized by size, make, and color.
After I sent my complaint email, I looked up and realized how mortified my Father would have been if he were around.

“What's wrong with all of you!? AND with tools that are organized and NOT just thrown in a paper bags and jars? Bunch of communists!”
He probably would have run us all over in his 1978 truck still being held together with a roll of duct tape.

I felt ashamed.

Ashamed for not knowing what to do. Ashamed for not paying attention more to my Dad when I was growing up. Ashamed that these guys were my neighbors. Ashamed that my child is growing up without a Dad that can to put a simple 1,200 piece bicycle together in 12 minutes flat like the instructions say it should. Ashamed because the happy little girl pictured on the box probably has a Dad that put that bike together with raw sheet metal and pink paint in his sleep.

“Stop!” I yelled to the other guys. Then after the beep I shouted, “iPhone, get me the handyman on the phone… now!”

"Daddy attached the stickers!"

Happy 4th Birthday Sunshine Sparkles Princess Ballerina Fairy Olivia Newton-John!

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



Miss Bean! Or as you now call yourself “Sunshine Sparkles Princess Ballerina Fairy”,

Happy 4th Birthday! I say this with both enthusiasm and sorrow as the year has flown by far too quickly. I know it’s cliché to say but I really can’t believe how fast these 4 years have gone by. I still remember the day you were born (with the attacking Ninja’s) like it was yesterday.

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

• Stories of your imaginary sisters Sauna and Nana from Cloud Mountain, and their baby brother Lightening Bubblegum.
• Our trip to Paris and the experience through your eyes.
• How excited you get doing chores, helping, and putting stickers on your chore chart.
• Asking for a cat and then drawing pictures of you two playing. It didn't work but I admire the effort.
  
• Listening to you sing just about anywhere and ballet dancing in the aisles of stores without even thinking.
• The tea parties you throw while dressed up like a Fairy or Princess.
  
• Playing restaurant in the car on the way to school by taking meal orders and telling your mommy and me the specials of the day - like "Tree Pie."
  
• Painting and drawing together. Seeing your vivid imagination at work.
  

Your favorite things at this moment:

The color Pink. Souplantation. Music from Elvis, Bee-Gee’s, and Coldplay. Movie night on the giant screen with the neighbors, any art projects that we do together, Ballet. Anything that has to do with Paris. Making crafts and pictures for friends. Playing games on the iPhone and Wii. Making Pizza’s together while singing Tom Jones songs. Anything that has to do with Ariel or Silvermist.
Watching DVD’s Blue Hawaii, Little Mermaid, Fantasia 2000, The Three Caballeros, and AristoCats over and over again.

Tonight on the eve of your birthday as we made, of course ‘pink’, cupcakes for your preschool class I realized how much I’m going to miss you at 3. But at the same time I’m looking forward to the memories waiting for us when you're 4.

You may be a year older, but in my eyes I’ll always see that cute little baby girl with those big eyes, huge smiles, and silly belly laughs - even when your 30.

Love,
Daddy

My Little Ballerina Girl

There are certain first moments I’m going to remember about my daughter forever: the day she was born in a tub, her first word (which by the way was “dada”), the day she took her first real walking steps, the first birthday party with the Elvis impersonator, the first day of preschool, and now I can add her first ever ballet recital to the list.

A full 3 and a half hour extravaganza (not including intermission.)

I can’t honestly think of another moment that I was more anxious about. Well except maybe her actual birth, and that late-to-the party Elvis impersonator comes to mind too.
While waiting and anticipating her moment on stage, there was plenty of time to reflect on my little girl who was just a baby not so long ago. Thinking about how weird it was that she’s nearly 4 and how quick she’s growing up. Wondering if she’s paid attention in ballet this past year - especially the last 4 months dancing to the same routine. Hoping that she did her best and wasn’t that ‘one’ ballerina that I’ve heard so much about that gets stage-fright and runs off stage crying.
A million other things were running through my mind by the 3rd hour including why they still teach kids “Tap”, what college or preferably Art School she'll end up going to, and why that Lionel Richie song still haunts me at the most awkward times.

When the curtain closed on the hip-hop kids wearing bedazzled MC hammer clothes and opened for the 92nd time, the noise of “oohs” and “ahh’s” filled the auditorium and I found myself standing up nearly yelling “that’s ma’ little ballerina girl!” clapping and hooting like she just scored a basketball home run, goalie, Stanley steamer (or whatever it is they call it these days.)
I guess that’s what it feels like to be a proud parent – in a Tony Danza sort of way.

My wife, of course, sat beside me with a huge smile and tears. My eyes watered a little, just because I was laughing at how cute she looked, and how the short performance looked more like a routine out of the Muppet show -- funny little legs moving around unsynchronized; each ballerina looking at each other not entirely sure of what to do next, frilly little costumes bumping into each other.
At the end of the routine they all gave their little bows. The same bow she’s been practicing for weeks and “had to show me” once more to make sure it was perfect before she kissed me, yelled “bye Dad!” and ran backstage.

Then that crazy Lionel Richie song popped in my head once more.

The Father’s Day Conspiracy

Why do people hate Father’s? The TV, Stores, Magazines, Organizations, Advertisers, America, Cats -- just about everybody.

It’s not difficult to notice that for Mother’s Day the entire month of May is devoted to ‘Mom’. There are pastel posters everywhere with all kinds of slogans, special commercials with fancy jingles, charity walks with celebrities raising money for all kinds of women causes. And who can escape the ads for gift suggestions:

• $10 Talking Greeting Cards
• Flowers with fruit in the vases
  
• Shopping gift cards
• $70 Champagne Brunches
• Jewelry
• Engraved anything
• Custom memory books
• Spa Makeovers
• Getaway Trips without husband/kids/anybody remotely related
• Lexus

In comparison some of ads I’ve seen for Father’s Day gift suggestions this year:

• Garage Floor Coating
• Kitchen Cabinet Refinishing
• Search and Rescue Headlamps
• Outdoor Storage Shed
• Whole House Air Duct Cleaning
• Free beer for Dad with purchase of 3 lunch entrees and 3 drinks
• Car Wash and Detail Kit (for Mom’s Lexus I guess…)

Huh?

Maybe by the end of the week they’ll be suggesting things like gas cards as the perfect Father’s Day gift.

It really is much simpler than that – I would be perfectly happy going on a family outing to my favorite eating place, taking a long uninterrupted nap, and getting some hand-made art that I can hang up at work with a note saying that if she becomes the first woman president it's all because of me.
And if I happen to get a floating waterproof table tennis, or a beer holster - that would be nice too.

Tough Love vs. Spanking

Most people think it is improper to spank children, so I have tried other methods to control my kid when he has one of those moments.

One that I found effective is for me to just take him for a car ride and talk.

Some say it's the vibration from the car, others say it's the time away from any distractions such as TV, Video Games, Computer, IPod, etc.

Either way, my kid usually calms down and stops misbehaving after our car ride together. Eye to eye contact helps a lot too.

I've included a photo below of one of my sessions with my son, in case you would like to use the technique.

Sincerely,
A Friend



Source: I have no idea who wrote this as it was forwarded to me.

Ronald McDonald Is Evil and Has Bad Taste In Music Too

I told my daughter McDonald's burned down – all over the place - and that we can never go there again.
Why? Because of the Kidz Bop CD’s they were giving out with the Happy Meals.

For the last 9 months after her Ballet class I’ve always taken her to the nearby McDonald's for dinner. Its become our little once a week tradition that we both look forward to.
Sitting there almost feels like we’re in an 80’s commercial: a 3-year-old dressed in her Ballet clothes with Dad across the table usually instructing her how the Happy Meal toy works.
But this day was different; she got a Kidz Bop CD and asked to play it in the car.

That was one long drive home…

Why has no one given me a proper warning me about this? The CD label should at least have a warning label on it that says, “WARNING: KIDZ SINGING ON THIS CD HAVE ABSOLUTELY NO MUSICAL TALENT WHATSOEVER.”

I stopped the CD at the Kidz version of “Funkytown”, which by the way is an alteration Lipps, Inc probably never intended, and told my daughter that the CD broke.

“It’s like a sticker, you can only use it once” and then changed the subject.

Later, I threw it in the recycling bin hoping they could melt in into something useful like Wii’s, iPhones, flying cars, or better yet Happy Meal Lego toys. Until then, I have a 3-year-old that won’t stop asking when I’m taking her to Funkytown.

Has anybody else encountered bad kids music? Have you discovered "good" kids music? Or does that even exist...?

“What I Want To Be When I Grow Up”

No, this isn’t my list. I already know what I want to be when I grow up: Mr. T. Or a king/dictator/emperor of a small island in the pacific with a KFC franchise.

The weekend was fun as it was just my daughter and I while the wife was busy at some workshop for her MBA program. We spent most of the time drawing, painting, swimming, playing video games, and watching movies – we FINALLY saw that Monster’s Vs Aliens movie in 3D. I was disappointed as it was totally overrated. When the credits rolled my daughter turned to me and said in a serious voice “the monster movie wasn’t that good.”
Happy to know she has good taste. Well, not that good since she still likes that ‘Kidz Bops’ music.

Anyhow, I can’t even begin to explain how much I love spending time with just her. It’s not to say that I don’t enjoy spending time with both my wife and daughter – I do. It’s just my wife doesn’t jump up and down, yell in excitement and start clapping when I say things like “let’s play video games!” or “let’s go get some popcorn chicken…and play video games!”

Generally I’ll get an unfavorable stare.

Some of the conversations with my daughter can get pretty interesting because usually she’ll have an answer and opinion for just about everything from her 3-year old point of view. Celebrities (Oso, Elmo, and Hannah Montana all wear too much makeup), politics (Princesses just need to keep dancing on the Earth), the housing crisis (make them all pink) and yesterday she spent most of the day telling me what she wants to be when she grows up. Here are a few:

Truck (Pink, but can sometimes be Purple)
Butterfly
Order taking lady at Wendy’s
Princess Ariel
Duck (Pink one)
A mountain with clouds
A nice bumblebee with a pink truck
Souplantation
Fairy with a sparkly elevator
Kitty cat haircutter and doctor
Ballerina that can fly with a wand
Unicorn with a pink truck
Guacamole

In my view, she can be anything she wants to be. Except maybe guacamole.