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Why is Daddy Crying?

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Entries in birthday (4)


One Year And Counting!

I’m still blown away by the fact that today is my blog’s first birthday.

To you…well, you’re probably twirling your finger in the air and rolling your eyes. At least my wife is.

Regardless, for me it’s a big deal.

I started this space of my ramblings in an effort to get my fingers pounding on the keyboard some more and to tap back into one of my absolute loves…..writing.

Pairing that up with my other devoted love – my family – seemed a win/win.

The only thing left was a good name. So, I did what any natural artist does and sucked back a few too many beers and chased them down with glasses of wine and walla!!!! The name Why Is Daddy Crying? was born.

Then I just sat back, lived my life and let the rest flow through the finger tips in the hopes just maybe a few of you kids would care enough to read.

The response I’ve gotten has been overwhelming at best. My readership is unreal to me. The comments I get make my day. The emails I randomly get from strangers humbles me. And the explosion of my Twitter and Facebook followers is daunting.

THANKS! Thanks for reading, making me laugh, sharing your stories, and for revealing the fact that it truly does take a village to raise a child. Even if that child is me.

But an anniversary wouldn’t be a true anniversary if I didn’t reflect. So…here are my top 10 favorite blog posts of mine over the past year. I really hope you’ll take a couple minutes and read and pass along to others who might enjoy them.

My top 10 favorite blog posts over the past year:

1) Because of this post alone, I’m notorious for hating the damn Snuggie. And I followed it up with this lovely post about a Snuggie family gone wrong.

2) The BP oil spill got me angry, but also had me wondering if I could offer any help. So, I lent a hand by creating this list of the top 10 things BP should shove up its leaky oil pipe.

3) Sometimes I like to give some handy advice. So, I created a commercial much like the drug commercials on TV so that I could inform parents how they know they’re experiencing children.

4) I would totally and utterly suck as a terrorist and here are the reasons why. This one’s complete with a horrifying picture.

5) I have had many discussions with wife over the past year. On this particular day we discuss pointy bras.

6) I’ve gotten to meet, interact with, and fight with some of the greatest people. Take in this epic online one-liner battle with Twitter's @ieatmykidzsnack:

7) One of the most humbling moments of my writing days was when JC Little of Little Animation reached out and did this animated short based on my blog. Check it out!

8) Here’s a quick jaunt down memory lane as I remember the days I’ve spent with my weiner.

9) And then for a little bit I got serious. This post marks the beginnings of one of the lowest points in my life where I lost my job.

10) And last, here’s a post where I show some family love to my brother by revealing how much I love that he affectionately calls his children “fuck trophies.”

I’m missing oh so much more, but these are some of my favorites.

Thanks for the ride so far. I hope everyone keeps reading and sharing the love!



Snapshots From the Life Of A 35-Year-Old

Tomorrow’s my birthday!!

July 3 will mark the 35th year I’ve kicked around dirt on this lovely spiraling rock. I’m five years closer to that magical number 40. And, as a someone nears that age their forced to take a moment and reflect on everything they’ve done since they were born.

So here’s my reflection. Snapshots of my life over the past 35 years:

July 3, 1975 I’m born! Holy shit it’s bright out here

Age 1 - What’s up bitches!! I can walk!!

Age 2 - I don’t wanna poop in that thing!

Age 3 - Mine!

Age 4 - Is this a losth toof?

Age 5 - Why is the sky blue? Why do birds fly? Why does daddy’s butt make those sounds?

Age 6 - Can you turnaround while I get dressed?

Age 7 – Mommy, can I have a Garfield lunchbox?

Age 8 – My first record – The Beach Boys, Surfin’ USA

Age 9 – My first kiss.

Age 10 – Double digits bitches! I’m an adult and now! I know everything!!

Age 11 – My mom makes me Jams that are too poofy in the front so I look like I’ve got a butt-in-front.

Age 12 – I love every girl that looks my way and masturbation is so AWESOME!!!!

Age 13 – Iron Maiden, Meggadeath, MTV Headbangers Ball

Age 14 – My first heartbreak.

Age 15 – Music obsession reaches a new high.

Age 16 – I start dating my future wife.

Age 17 – This writing thing is pretty damn cool. Maybe I should obsessively write a journal and poetry…

Age 18 – I can drink, party all night, go to class when I want and my parents aren’t around? I LOVE college!

Age 19 – Long hair and living the grunge life-style.

Age 20 – I guess I’ll major in journalism and minor in professional writing.

Age 21 – I sell my car for $50 and my best friend almost murders me over it.

Age 22 – Why hello there real world…damn this sucks!

Age 23 – I marry the wife and place my balls in jar never to be seen again.

Age 24 – The wife and I contemplate moving to Washington state for the hell of it. End up in Virginia instead.

Age 25 – My first house! Now I’m all grows up!

Age 26 – Let’s start taking this running thing to a whole new level!

Age 27 – It’s a boy!! Let’s name him Grayson!

Age 28 – I just….want….to…..sleep. And I run my first marathon!

Age 29 – It’s a girl!!! Let’s name her Macy!

Age 30 – I just….want…to…sleep.

Age 31 – Oh sweet vasectomy how I love you!!

Age 32 – No more diapers! No more cribs! And everyone’s sleeping! Could this be real?

Age 33 – Alright family…let’s pack-it-up and move our asses to Chicago!!

Age 34 – Wow…this four-months being unemployed sucks…. Oh hey new job!

Age 35……..

What a wonderful ride it’s been.



Bono's Back Botched My Birthday 

A couple months ago the wife bought me U2 tickets for their July 6th show at Soldier Field in Chicago. It was a very very early birthday present (July 3 for those who want to chopper-in some money to me as a present or what not).

I’ve never seen them live, but have wanted to for years!

To make it even better, my best friend and his wife in North Carolina bought tickets and plane flights to come rock-out with us.

I was stoked.

Then, this past week we learned Bono had back surgery and has since cancelled a huge number of U2’s tour venues through mid July while he recuperates. According to their website, they’ve been postponed to “2011 and more information will be provided soon.”

I learned of this through a text I got from my wife who had heard it through another text from a friend who had learned it from the interweb machine thingy. Two minutes later I got an email from Ticketrapster.

I respect the fact these guys have successfully revolutionized music the way they have for as long as they have.

But for shit sake…don’t you think Bono knew his fucking back hurt a teensy bit before he planned a world-wide tour? Didn’t you think he was all “oohh…owwwyy..umm….geezze..guys….I hate to rain on the parade here, but back kinda tweeks a bit yeah? Maybe I should see a doctor then we should plan our world tour eh?”

Celebrities do it all the time and bands are the worst. I understand they’re humans just like us. Bacteria pounds their immune system just as it does ours.

But we drain bank accounts, get boss approvals, and create elaborate babysitting rituals surrounding one single night of musical bliss! Essentially as parents we make the earth move to spend an evening seeing a band we love. And most times that can’t be replicated.

And so here we stand, skirt blown up, pantiless, embarrassed, and wondering what’s next?

I’d give anything to be able to live that like. I’d be all:

“Hey honey…listen…I ummm…my left pinky doesn’t seem to lift like it should when I drink from my wine glass, so I’m gonna need to go ahead and cancel all the bed time reading, baseball games, cooking, cleaning, grass mowing, and listening to stories from you for the next two months mmmmkaaay?

“I’ve rescheduled all those activities for 2011. Keep checking for an updated list of when I’ll be available to re-engage in those activities.

“But we can still have sex!! Right? Sweetie? Right?....”



Girly Girl is Taking Over My Life

My daughter's birthday is Saturday and it's she reminds me of me as a kid….couldn’t sleep, dreams of new Transformers running through my head. Maybe a new Atari game or…OR!!! a new bike?!!! Then the day came and I got a soccer ball and three pairs of homemade Jams shorts where the front was so poofy it looked like I had a BIF (butt in front).

Every day the daughter’s all "is my birthday tomorrow?"

"Not yet baby...2 more days, then you'll be...."

And her face lights up and she holds up her fingers as she says, "fiiiivve!!!!"

Then I usually give her a quick tickle, smack on the butt, and rub her head.

The wifey is planning a total girly girl party for her. The playroom is decked out for a tea party, complete with dresses, hats, a table for the little ladies to pop-a-squat in pure princess decadence, and a blackboard that says "Macy's tea party."

So yesterday I had the day from hell and I'm walking to the train in a virtual sea of business men and women on their way to Union Station. I call the wifey to tell her what train I'm on and she tells me about her decorations for the party:

"I'm just gonna let them pieeck what dress they wanna waaar and let them juss have fun. But I need yuuu to be the phoootograaapher," she says. (Keep in mind the wifey has a very southern accent)

"Honey, they'll run ramped. You need activities."

"Jesus...don't complicate this…aaaahhhriiight?!"

I remain calm, "Shnookums, they're fucking 5...they need activities."

"Hoooney Buuunches…if you wanna play all Mr. Fucking Rogers than have at it!"

"I got your Mr….” and then I had an idea! A real idea! “I know, get beads and string…let them make necklaces. Then let them pick a dress to try on. Maybe get some little cheapy clips and a mirror or two and let them do their hair all up. Then we can put some good music on and let them do like a fashion show and we'll give them all little prizes and stuff"

Silence.....then..."That's a pretty good idea."

Now those words are never...I mean NEVER uttered to me by my loving wife. My chest puffs all out, I'm proud, and my first instinct is to look around like "did you hear that?! Huh?! I'm the shit!!! Did you hear it?!!"

But as I look around I quickly realize, all the business folk, suit-clad money-makin', business folk had looks of complete and total "what the fuck is wrong with this dude?" looks on their faces.

I hunkered back down into my little world and said, “Thanks…I thunk it all up myself.”

It’s definitely getting girly at our house. The wifey rocked out one killer tea party room. Dresses are hanging everywhere. There’s fucking pink all over the damn house….but I love it. I’m soaking it in. Cause pretty soon…there’s gonna be blood all over the front lawn, from the douches that try to roll up to my front door asking the daughter out on a date. Oh..and it won’t be me causing the blood. It’ll be the big brother, and all his kick-ass, over-protective friends. I’ll be behind them, holding the camera…all giddy for new material to throw on my blog…..