This Past Month I Did Some Shit

Wifey got back yesterday after 5 days of being by her family’s side to put her cousin to rest. The next day her phone lit-up with a jobby job offer that seemed too good to be true. Five days a week – 9 a.m. to 2 p.m. – the same time the kids are in school so no childcare required. At least not till summer time.

Her paycheck won’t be “extra money” by any stretch. But I still can’t help but think of how I’m going to use the money to get my half-sleeve tattoo finished, or to get the roof replaced, or to dangle in front of my kids’ faces only to quickly snap it away as they reach for it, or to….wait…what honey?!!….yes dear…. Ummm…or to pay bills.

This past month seems to have been about change. The wifey of course experiencing the largest. Me having my daily routine thrown off for a couple weeks – which as any Type-A person knows, is like having your security blanky burned right before your eyes. A change in my waist size from not being able to work out for many days. And, now a new routine with the wife going back to work. On the horizon – hopefully one more large change….

This past month I got a massive dose of stay-at-home mommy life…make that, single stay at home mommy life. We laughed, we all cried, at times I was tied up and beaten with various stuffed animals, occasionally I was proud, yesterday I repeated myself 379 times, on Monday my daughter took a massive poop while the boy tried to wait patiently cause he had to pee, Sunday we bought a cap gun and a Lil Pet Shop birdie, Tuesday I scooped 4 days worth of cat shit, Friday my son said “daddy….you’re a weird man.”

This past month I truly loved spending the time I did with the little bastards and enjoyed experiencing the parts of their days that I miss when I’m at work. But I was glad to get back to my somewhat normal day-to-day life. With enough time, alcohol, and therapy…I’ll forget how challenging it is and look forward to doing it again.

This past month was the first full month of my blog and I gotta say I’m kind of digging it. Who the fuck knows where it’ll go…but it’s definitely providing me with a killer outlet for my ramblings…..

Super Dad!!....Redux

Today begins round two of being a stay at home dad. The wifey took off to N.C. to be with her family and help them put her cousin to rest. Until Tuesday night, it’ll be me, the two precious bastards, a cat, two fish, and the house.

Last week when I went through this we had a pretty good time. This week…I’m gonna blow the roof of this joint. I plan on planting serious fucking memories in these kids heads—even if it kills me. I mean, the way I look at it, that’s the only real selfish benefit I get out of it.

“What do you mean you gap-toothed, big-eared freak?” you might be asking yourself.

Well, in most circumstances I’d be banking the living hell out of the days I’ve spent as a single dad. I’d be keeping a pretty little row of binge drinking cards, sex cards, oh hell no you’re cooking tonight cards, and why don’t you wipe her ass this time cards. But wifey’s dealing with a death in the family, which just shits all over my capability to get any benefit from being Mr. Mom.

I can’t whip-out my kick-ass cards to ask her to spend the week rubbing my feet, clipping my fingernails, shaving my back, taking care of the kids, feeding me dinner, and watching football. I can’t make plans to hit the Irish pub with the dudes. And I certainly can’t plop down next to her on the couch wearing my crotchless SpongeBob thong and leather mask holding a picture of PeeWee Herman and say “let’s do this.”

So instead, I’m gonna funnel all that energy towards the two midgets in the house. We’re gonna hit a birthday party, ride some bikes, maybe put a dent in Kiddieland, eat lots of ice cream, play kickball, roast marshmallows in the fire pit, and maybe even chase the cat around the house and shave our names in him.

And when the wife comes home I’ll help her move past this tragedy in her life and then over time we’ll all fall back into our routine. Oh sure, I’ll have the urge to ask her to shave my toes…. and even to wear the SpongeBob thong (I may wear them under my pants..just in case.), but I won’t.

Instead, hopefully she’ll look through all the shitty photos I take of the kids and feel relaxed that even though she married a sex-crazed douche – I can still support her in a time of need.  

My Daughter Has Maggots

Well, actually they’re weevils. Acorn weevils to be exact. But we didn’t know those fuckers were weevils, we thought they were maggots. But I’m getting ahead of myself.

I’d just finished my tour of duty as single dad for 4 days and with chest fully inflated was about to head off to earn another paycheck. The wife got home late, tired, distraught, emotionally exhausted and was waking to herd the kids off to school. The little nippers were stretching, peeing, brushing, screaming, crying, and stating what they would not do. And then I heard it…

“Honey get in here!!!!”

So many thoughts run through my mind – she’s fallen and can’t get up, she found my box of porn, my daughter’s got the dreaded pukes, her fucking fish died again..... I slowly walk in and in front of her is my daughter’s “acorn collection”—a laundry basket half-way filled with a shit-ton of acorns.

“It’s Macy’s acorn collection and it’s out of freakin’ control. So what?”

“No – come here and look!” she says.

I walk closer and within the cute, harmless acorn collection are tons of what look like—white maggots.

I’m all – “WTF?!!” And she’s all “OMG.” Meanwhile the daughter can’t see what’s in there and is screaming that we can’t throw away her precious horded acorns! There were hundreds of the little bastards….on her floor, in her carpet, and who knows where else…..in the cat? In her hair? In her bed? IN HER BARBIES??!!!!!

OK – put on your science hats cause here comes your lesson!

What we experienced this morning was the little known and completely misunderstood acorn weevil larva. See – a small, brown-colored adult acorn weevil looks like a beetle. This daughter-of-a-bitch takes her long anteater like snout, burrows a hole in an acorn, and lays its larva. This maggot-looking larva lunches on the interior acorn nut all summer. Then, as Fall arrives, the bastard chews a perfectly round 1/8-inch hole in the side of the nut, crawls out, burrows itself into the ground, hangs out for one to two years and the Houdini-wanna-be emerges as an adult acorn weevil where it then finds acorns to start the process all over again.

And here’s another little known fact. Squirrels can tell if there’s an acorn weevil larva in a nut just by simply picking it up.

I’m absolutely convinced Mother Nature created these things simply to fuck with parents of small children. I mean, the weevil’s entire life centers around the laying of larva that emerges looking like a maggot. And, if he’s lucky enough to emerge and find himself in a cozy, pink bedroom with parents starring and children screaming – then he’s considered a rock star and dies a quick, famous rock star death. If not - then he just burrows in the ground to try his luck again two years later.

So – I write this to educate my fellow parental brethren. Go forth…spread the word and end this plague on the sanity’s of our kind. Ban acorns from your house and make sure no other acorn weevil larva is ever considered a rock star again!!!

Oh – and to end the story – the larva are harmless to furniture, carpets, people, etc.. When they can’t burrow into the ground they just lay there, wiggle harmlessly and die. You just sweep them up and you’re finished and can go try and drink the memory of the event away.

 The End

4 Days as a Single Dad

On Friday the wifey took off to N.C. to be with her cousin who’s on the losing side of a vicious battle with cancer. My heart broke as I watched her walk out the door, knowing that what she was about to experience would be something she’d never forget.

As I slowly turned around, fighting the tears, I was met with two kids standing side-by-side, the son holding a car, the daughter holding her blanket. They gave me a look that clearly said, “all right old man…we can do this one of two ways. The hard way, or the easy way…you chose.”

I chose the easy way and quickly made-up a massive batch of chocolate chip cookies….or what I like to call, a pan of bribery.

Saturday I woke up to my son sitting next to me on the bed, looking at my tattoo on my arm and saying, “I’m gonna tell your mommy you have a tattoo.”

I gave them the run of the place Saturday. And they fucking destroyed it. Paints, stuff animals, clothes, blocks, games, Legos, food, spilled milk, TV, and minor amounts of blood. I had given them a total kid day in the house and they took full advantage.

Sunday I woke up to my son sitting next to me on the bed saying, “Daddy, while I was peeing Jasper’s (our cat) tail went through my pee and now he’s laying on your bed.”

We spent Sunday handing out daddy’s hard earned cash. We saw Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs, ate Baja Fresh, and spent a few hours at a park swinging, playing soccer and basketball, climbing, and looking at moms…..uh, I mean playing on the jungle gym. They came home dirty and tired.

The wifey comes back Tuesday night and I’m pretty sure by then I’ll be bound, shoved in a closet, and the house will be set on fire.

I love that my wife can bolt whenever she wants and the kids and I just roll into daddy mode. I love that they get my humor, tackle me when I least expect it, tell me secrets, and wake me up spewing awesomeness from their minds. I love that they love me. And I hate that I can’t look back and remember similar experiences from when I was growing up with my dad.

This morning I dropped my son off at school, walked across the street and dropped my daughter off at her school. As her class started walking down the hall, she jumped out of line, ran up to me, hugged my legs, then threw her face towards the sky, closed her eyes and puckered.

 That’s what it’s all about….