September 16, 2011

There’s a lot of stuff I can’t wait to show Ariel and Jasmine when they’re older. I’m not talking about when they’re MUCH older, when of course they need to see The Godfather, Schindler’s List, the West Wing, the Wire, and lots of other all-time greats from movies and TV. I’m talking when they’re still kids, but can appreciate some of the classics of my youth, the ones that haven’t become too dated to still entertain. I’m not including The Wizard of Oz, which is of course one of my favorite movies, just because the joy of watching it with them the first time will be severely hampered by the worry that the scene with the flying monkeys will scare the holy be-jezus out of them and ruin the whole evening. But we’ll jump off that bridge when we get there… Anyway, here’s my top-3, at least as of today…

1) Bad News Bears – it’s staggering how inappropriate this movie would be considered today. Forget the fact that the manager drinks and drives continuously. Forget that the kids curse like nobody’s business, every imaginable slur is used freely and without hesitation, the good guys (the Bears) play dirty when it suits them (you cant see Tanner, the SS, tripping a guy running between 2nd and 3rd without laughing). The true beauty of this film is the fantastic ending, which teaches the invaluable lesson that bad sportsmanship and hostility bordering on unprovoked violence is entirely warranted and acceptable (even commendable, really) as long as it’s directed at an evil team like the Yankees. Just outstanding.

2) Schoolhouse Rock – To be honest, I’m not sure how I’ll handle it if my kids don’t like Schoolhouse Rock. These videos/songs from Saturday morning TV of the 70’s are so brilliant, so well written, and so enjoyable, that it will just break my heart if for some reason they don’t grab my kids like they grabbed me. I can honestly say I know how a bill becomes a law and the entire preamble to the US Constitution because of Schoolhouse Rock, and we all know how necessary those are to achieving day-to-day success in business as well as life in general. Among the very best of Schoolhouse Rock are Interjections (“They’re generally set apart from a sentence by an exclamation point, or by a comma when the feeling’s not as strong”), Rufus Xavier Sasparilla (pronouns) and Fireworks (about the 4th of July). Go back and watch them on Youtube if you haven’t seen them in a long time (or God forbid have never seen them), I guarantee many smiles.

3) The Muppet Movie – It’s possible this will end up being a BIT dated (I haven’t seen it in years), if only because the cast is an impressive collection of 70’s icons who my wife may not recognize, let alone my daughters. Milton Berle, Mel Brooks, Orson Wells, Bob Hope, Dom Deloise, Steve Martin, Richard Pryor, it goes on and on. But what makes it brilliant is the combination of the humor (“Prepare the standard Rich and Famous contracts…”) and the music, from the Rainbow Connection to Movin’ Right Along. If you watch the ending “Life’s like a movie, write your own ending, keep believing, keep pretending, we’ve done just what we set out to do…thanks to the Lovers, the Dreamers, and you!” and don’t get goose-bumps, well, I cant help you.

I’ll have the blu-ray player (or whatever fabulous contraption has made that obsolete) ready to go on September 18, 2017, when Jasmine turns 7. Ariel will be 11. Perfect.

August 30, 2011

A few thoughts while thanking the Hurricane Gods that Irene didn’t hit us harder…

Ariel likes to be the DJ in the car (or at least exert total control over the music selections by clearly and with utter conviction stating her demands, even if she’s not able to physically run the show from her car seat), and lately, she’s been feeling Lady Gaga. Yesterday in the car she demanded the “Chachi” song, and was not at all pleased with my inability to immediately provide it. I of course was racking my brain to figure out what she wanted, and was afraid that maybe the classic show “Joanie Loves Chachi” had a theme song I didn’t recall, and somehow she had become fond of it. I think everyone can agree that’s a harrowing thought. Turns out she wanted “Paparazzi.” Which from now on will always be, to me, the Chachi song.

Ariel is in that nether world between school and camp right now (this period is of course lovingly referred to by moms throughout the northeast as “Purgatory”), and Belle took the girls out yesterday with a friend to the mall. There was a place to throw in a coin and make a wish, and Ariel wished that the Red Sox win the World Series, despite the efforts of her friend’s Dad, Mr. Fabulous, to corrupt her into making a pro-Yankees wish. Now, first of all, obviously Mr. Fabulous’ behavior was reprehensible and he now finds himself in grave danger of receiving a far less flattering nickname. Like Mr. Stupid Head or something. But more importantly, how about that Ariel! I’m just lucky she’s too young to ask me for a car, because I’d have a hard time saying no right now. Dodged a bullet there…

Ariel went to a birthday party last week and there was a special guest star who showed up right before it was time for cake. None other than the Amazing Spider Man. His performance was indeed quite amazing, as he practically cleared out the room just by walking in. His costume was so scary to this group of 4-year olds that at least 3 kids immediately burst into tears and 2 others ran for the exits as if the Grim Reaper had shown up instead of poor Spidey. This was despite the fact that Spider Man appeared to be about 5 and a half feet tall and maybe 140 pounds soaking wet. Mrs. Fabulous remarked to me that he needs to start P90X or something. To her credit, Ariel was not one of the kids trying desperately to flee the scene, and she even tried to calm down one of her friends who wasn’t enjoying the super hero’s presence in the least bit. I was pretty darn proud of her.

August 23, 2011

I travelled last week for business and when I’m away from the girls for a couple days it’s easy to forget about all the difficulties of raising kids and just focus on the good stuff. So that’s a great thing to do from time to time. I’m sure Belle wishes SHE could do that from time to time, even if she probably doesn’t need the dose of perspective as badly as I do. In Woody Allen’s film classic “Manhattan,” he makes a list of some of the little things that to him make life worth living. For his character, Isaac Davis, it was Cezanne’s apples and pears, Louis B. Armstrong’s Potato Head Blues and his ex-girlfriend’s face. For me, there’s lots of things, movie popcorn, Red Sox games at Fenway, The Wire and West Wing, Doonesbury, and the music of Michael Penn to name just a few. But what about the wife and kids? Well, since you asked…

Jasmine wrapping her arms around me when I get her at night (she’s crying, I pick her up, and she just melts onto my shoulder. Honestly, it’s pretty sensational)

Ariel singing Lady Gaga’s “Telephone” (she gets every word wrong but thinks she knows all the words. It’s fabulous)

Jasmine’s smile when I walk into the room (doesn’t matter what’s going on, the kid just lights up when she sees me. Makes me feel like a million bucks)

Trademark Ariel moments - like the other day, she walked into my office in wearing a Princess Tiana dress with her wand, to show me how beautiful she looked. Then she came back 2 minutes later with a mirror in her hand and said “Now you just have GOT to see me.” (True, Ariel. Very true.)

Jasmine laughing when tickled (just like her older sister when she was a baby, she has the best laugh ever)

Belle’s face when one of the kids does something good, or new, or unexpected (the look of pure joy)

Now if I can just remember these things whenever Ariel screams at me for no reason, or Jasmine pretends she’s going to kiss me and instead bites half my face off, then I’ll be fine. :)

August 10, 2011

Last night during her bath Ariel debuted her latest creative masterpiece. She wrote a song, which goes something like this... Vagina, vagina, vagina, vagina, VAGINA!!!! That verse then gets repeated. Often. And the bridge is eerily similar. As is the chorus. It’s quite a song really. I see Katy Perry doing a cover version some day.

Ariel told me the other day that I’m an AMAZING colorer (she’s so right too). This obviously begs the question – if I decide to switch jobs, how prominently do I feature that on my resume? Between work experience and education, right?

Ariel does a great job of really straddling the line with some of her behavior between cute/funny and disturbing (I’m sure this is true of many 4 year olds). Let’s see which side she’s leaning towards lately, shall we?

First, she said she had to go to the bathroom but then her vagina (clearly among her favorite words these days) and tushy changed their minds. I vote CUTE/FUNNY

Next, she started shaking her butt at me and telling me over and over again to “touch my booty!” Tougher call, but I’ll still go with CUTE/FUNNY

Finally, she started walking around her room with her doll’s head stuck firmly between her legs. Yeah, that one was a wee bit DISTURBING.

So, 2-1 for CUTE/FUNNY. Not bad, really…

August 3, 2011

Ariel called me a light switch the other day. It was clearly meant as a put-down, though it was one of those, “I’m-a-4-year-old-so-anything-I-say-no-matter-how-silly-and-meaningless-is-INDESCRIBABLY-funny-right-now” kind of put-downs. In the past I’ve been a kookie head, a lollipop, AND, apparently, at times, I wear (or perhaps AM, as it wasn’t entirely clear) banana pants. I mention this because I want this out there – if in 2015 the cool way to “dis” somebody is by calling them a light switch, we all know who started the trend.

The other day Ariel decided she HAD to call her best friend (the daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Fabulous). This was her first ever real phone conversation with a friend, and if it was any indication, I don’t see any limited-minutes phone plans in her future. They talked for at least 45 minutes (while Ariel multi-tasked with my iPad) and probably would have kept going longer if we hadn’t interrupted. I have no idea what was being discussed, but I’m fairly certain it wasn’t the ongoing debate over the debt ceiling. At one point her grandmother dropped by for a visit. She walked over to Ariel to say hi, and was quickly dismissed from the living room as an unnecessary interruption. Of course Mr. Fabulous and I were thrilled about this whole development, since those were 45 beautiful, self-sufficient minutes during which we weren’t being asked to color or play princess or anything, but it IS a little scary to think of the damage this girl is going to do with a cell phone one day. I mean, she’s 4 years old for God’s sake.

July 28, 2011

Jasmine is a kick-ass baby. She just is. She never stops smiling, especially when either Mommy or I enter the room. She never cries for no reason, and even when there IS a good reason to cry, once we do whatever she wants us to do (take me out of this crib, give me something for this annoying teething, please make Ariel get off of my head), she stops crying and smiles again. As long as no permanent harm was done, no problem. That’s how she rolls. And we love that, obviously. She’s even starting to do better with sleeping through the night. Without a doubt, after 10 months, I’m giving the kid a solid A.

That said, she took it to a whole other level the other day. Some teenager rang the doorbell and when I stupidly opened the door, she started in with a whole annoying pitch on the environment and why I should donate money to her cause and make the world safe for the whooping crane or some such thing. I don’t have a problem with environmental causes (although I’ve never fully trusted the whooping crane), but I do have a problem with people ringing my doorbell and bothering me. So I’m standing there in the doorway, holding Jasmine, listening to the pitch, just waiting for the inevitable pause that will allow me to jump in with “Hey, that’s awesome, but how about you go away now and I never see you again,” when Jasmine decides she’s heard enough. She reaches out for the door, and with one little 10-month old hand, pushes the door closed. I let it swing shut as I watched Green Girl say “but I’m not finished…” and then yep, she WAS finished. Just fantastic work on the part of Jasmine. Someday when she’s older I’m totally going to buy her something for what seems like no reason at all, and it will be a thank-you for this performance, definitely the smile of the week.

July 21, 2011

So a few months back the family was strolling though the mall (I’ll be honest, there aren’t many instances where I feel comfortable claiming to “stroll,” but the mall and the 3rd Street Promenade in Santa Monica are two that definitely qualify) and a local photo studio was having a promotion – you could get a session valued at $500.00 (valued by WHO is a legitimate question) for a mere 50 bucks, and they would throw in one 8X10 shot for free. We would find out later that this 8X10 picture was valued at $250.00, and yes, those of you familiar with story structure, this rather scary revelation is a harbinger of things to come. So stay tuned and pay attention.

This past Sunday was photo shoot day. We prepared for our hour of modeling with gusto, making sure the kids were bathed (as were we), lots of outfits were brought, and we even brought props for fun (Ariel’s bicycle, some red sox hats, etc.). These kinds of activities are always fairly stressful for me, between wondering whether Ariel will feel like cooperating that day and dealing with logistics, but she looks beautiful in a well-taken photo, and Jasmine’s a cutie too, and frankly, at the moment, our walls are way too bare, so I was optimistic. I figured it would generally be fine, occasionally be painful, and result in some beautiful shots of the kids and hopefully the entire family.

So how’d it go? Well, the shoot itself wasn’t exactly hassle free, but it wasn’t too bad either. Jasmine is always so easy, but she was teething and uncomfortable, so getting her to smile and stay still was challenging. Ariel was Ariel, she was awesome, difficult, cute, funny, and infuriating all at once. Say what you want, but my daughter is nothing if not versatile. We knew going in that the highlight for her would be the pictures of her while blowing bubbles (bubbles are BIG with her), and unfortunately that didn’t come until the end. So, we were treated to being asked approximately 465 times during the hour whether it was time for bubbles. So that was fun. She also has been into making strange faces lately, which isn’t a big deal at the dinner table but makes taking the perfect family picture fairly difficult. But she didn’t have any major meltdowns, and the photographer was pretty good with her, so overall, you can’t really complain.

My favorite moment came during an outfit change for Ariel, when she was changing into a red dress, and pointed at the photographer and yelled, “You can’t WAIT to see how beautiful I’m going to look!” You tell him, Ariel. You just freakin’ tell him!

But now we have to circle back to our harbinger from before. You forgot about that, didn’t you? Sure, whatever. Anyway, we finish up and they tell us to schedule an appointment in a week or two to meet with a designer to go through the images and pick out what we want. The walls of the studio are of course adorned by some of their best shots, and their framing is creative and stylish. They gave us a pamphlet showing our options. Which was great, since we were then able to start debating whether to buy a moderately sized picture of the family, or go another way and take that money and take the entire family to Hawaii for like a month. Seriously, the prices were utterly insane. $6,000.00 may be what some people pay for art, and apparently they consider their pictures “wall art,” and that’s just super, but no, that ain’t happening folks.

The bright side is we can get all the digital images separately. For $1,500.00. And we can’t DO anything with them, except look at them on the computer. So, not like a VERY bright side, no.

July 15, 2011

There are a few sentences that every parent fears hearing come out of their kids’ mouths. “What happens when you die?” “Where do babies come from?” “Am I old enough to start dating a guy driving a Harley?” “What did Mom mean when she said we lost all our money in a ponzi scheme?” Those are the classic examples of course, but another one came tumbling out of Ariel’s mouth the other day, totally out of the blue. “Daddy, tell me a story.” Sounds innocuous, right? I mean, I read stories to her each and every night. But “TELL me a story” generally brings with it an obligation to make one up RIGHT NOW, and I suspect with Ariel there will also be the implied requirement that this story I make up RIGHT NOW be pretty darn entertaining. There probably needs to be laughs, thrills, a princess or two, maybe even a twist ending that would impress M. Night Shyamalan. How exactly am I supposed to make that happen? Sure, if this was a one-time thing, I could probably fake my way through it. You start with “Once upon a time,” you make sure to have a female heroine, a semi-scary (but not TOO scary) dragon, some magic, and a happy ending, and I should be fine. We’re not talking King Lear or even “The Usual Suspects” here. But if I know Ariel, and I’m pretty sure that I do, if that first story gets a thumbs up, many, many, many others will be requested (and obviously I’m using the word “requested”, in the way that Don Corleone and Luca Brazi requested that bandleader to sign Johnny Fontaine’s release in The Godfather). So, maybe the key is to make up a story just good enough so that she doesn’t complain, but not so good that she wants repeat performances on a nightly basis. Sounds like a job for whoever wrote the screenplay for The Hangover Part II. I wonder if he’s available.

July 11, 2011

I played a lot of games and sports with my Dad growing up. He coached some of my sports teams as well as my tennis (I was a tennis prodigy/brat) and was always willing and happy to pitch to me or play with me when he got home from work or on weekends. However, to this day the MOST FUN game I can EVER remember playing with him, at least based on how much fun I had at the time, was this incredibly simple game we played probably only once. We were at my grandmother’s apartment in NYC, in the living room. Before I go any further, yes, the game DID involve a ball, and yes, since my grandmother was like most Jewish grandmothers, the idea of us playing ball in the house was probably so frightening and inappropriate to her that I’m amazed we did it. And that she survived it. Maybe she was cooking all day and never left the kitchen.

Anyway, Dad was sitting in a chair on one side of the room, and I stood at the edge of the room by the hallway leading to the bedrooms. I don’t remember how the game started, but basically Dad threw the ball as high as the ceiling would allow, trying to get the ball over my head and into the hallway, while I tried to jump up and catch the ball or at least knock it down. I was probably 6-7 years old and probably thought I had Michael Jordan’s ability to jump and hang in the air (it seems very likely that I did), so this was a fantastic challenge. Actually, MJ was in high school at this point so let’s go with Dr. J. But I digress. The game was very fun partially because my Dad was a good athlete himself and could get the ball exactly where it needed to go to make it a good challenge for me, but mostly it worked because I happened to be JUST tall (or short) enough to be able to jump JUST high enough so that a perfect toss would beat me, and a well timed jump by me would beat him unless it was a perfect toss. 6 months earlier or 6 months later and the game would have been boring after 30 seconds. I’m pretty sure we never played it again. And yet I remember it vividly 35 or so years later.

So why do I bring this up? You know, other than because I couldn’t come up with a better blog idea today? Well, this weekend Ariel and I were in the pool and she told me to go towards the deep end and she tried to throw a pair of her goggles over my head into the deep end while I tried jumping up and grabbing them. And yes, as you probably suspected, Ariel has a cannon of an arm. Sure, the roles were a little reversed from me and Dad, and sure, my vertical leap still isn’t nearly as good as it is in my head, but it was incredibly fun. Ariel was able to throw the goggles JUST far enough that a good throw wasn’t reachable for me, and I didn’t have to “let” her win. She could win on her own as much if not more then she lost. For her part, she thought this was the funniest and most awesome game since…Candyland probably. And we all know how high a standard THAT is.

July 5, 2011

A few random thoughts following 4th of July weekend…

I got this text from my wife the other day – “Ariel just threw a fit at the ATM because she wanted to put the checks I was depositing into her piggy bank. And then she wanted the $400 I took out... for her piggy bank. Then she held my receipts hostage until I promised her a quarter for her piggy bank. She then told me she wanted a “whole lot of quarters.” Note to self, don't take her to ATM again.” Just wanted to make sure everyone realized my wife is funny too. It seems clear to me that someday Ariel’s either going to run an organized crime syndicate…or she’ll be the Fed Chairman. There is no in-between. Both, maybe…

I was coloring with Ariel and I finished one part of the picture pretty quickly. She asked me how I was able to do it so fast. I told her I must be talented. She exclaimed, “Talented! Wow, Daddy! You’re coming up with some WORDS today!”

Last weekend Ariel’s best friend was going to see a performance of Beauty and the Beast and her parents took Ariel too. Let me just say, if you’re going to have kids, it’s a total must to have friends like this couple (let’s just go ahead and call them the Fabulouses), who are ridiculously awesome and will take your child for the afternoon and show her a good time, and drop her off at the end of the day. Seriously, I have no idea how you’re supposed to parent a child without friends like the Fabulouses, and there can’t really be a lot of them out there, so to everyone who doesn’t have them, I feel your pain. And no, I’m not lending them out, so don’t even go there. So, we then had the afternoon (mostly) to ourselves, since Jasmine is so easy. She just rolls with whatever. So what did we do to take advantage of this wonderful gift? This 5 hour respite from the tumultuous whirlwind that IS a weekend day with Princess Ariel? Well, we couldn’t take a spa day, so we did the next best thing. We went to COSTCO. Who dares say life as a parent isn’t glamorous and exciting?

On the way home tonight Belle and I were talking about Jasmine and Belle commented on how easy she was today (we went to the fair – and BOTH of our princesses were great). I remarked that Jasmine’s ALWAYS easy and since I’ve been watching The Wire (easily in the conversation for the best show in TV history) non-stop lately, I slipped into Wire-speak and said that was just “how she be.” Belle of course needed that one repeated, and I laughed and said I’ve been watching too much of The Wire. Ariel then screams from the back that THERE IS NO WIRE and we shouldn’t say ANYTHING about a wire! You see, it’s just that sort of out-of-leftfield crazy-angry-tantrum-based-on-nothing that keeps you on your toes in my world. I guess she would have preferred a Sopranos reference instead. I’ll remember that for next time.

June 29, 2011

Every night before Ariel goes to sleep we read books. That’s usually my job while Belle feeds Jasmine and puts her to sleep. Seems like a sensible allocation of resources since Jasmine has no interest in taking a bottle, and lactating isn’t included in my skill portfolio. When Ariel’s behaving it can be wonderful – we snuggle while I read to her, and being the son of a life-long librarian, reading is in my blood. Some of the books, even for her age group, are really well written, funny at times, even touching. I love some of the classics like “Oh the Places You’ll Go,” and the pigeon books (Don’t Let the Pigeon Drive a Bus, The Pigeon Wants a Puppy) are very clever. Of course I expect it will be more fun when she’s a bit older and can appreciate something a little more substantial. For example, a long, long, long time ago my 5th grade teacher introduced our class to the fantastic short stories written by O.Henry (Gift of the Magi is the most famous) and I can’t wait to share those with her in a few years. And then when she gets to High School we can compare thoughts on Hemingway and Faulkner. Ok, that’s like the biggest lie ever, we’re totally not going to do that at all (I’d rather have an enema than read Faulkner again), but it made me sound smart, right? Oh come on, sure it did.

Anyway, of course Ariel doesn’t always behave, and when she’s being difficult the process doesn’t go as smoothly. Oh well, such is life. But another problem is that not all of Ariel’s books are exactly classics. And some aren’t particularly clever, funny or touching. I detest The Grouchy Ladybug (written by the otherwise excellent Eric Carle), an annoying story about a ladybug who keeps wanting to fight everyone, and everyone is happy and willing to fight him, but he’s a big scared-y cat so he moves on to the next animal. What’s nice is that not only is it irritatingly redundant, but it seems to make the case that fighting is a perfectly fine way to settle one’s differences, so that’s just super. Then I just read a story called “I Love You Forever,” about a Mom who rocks her son to sleep every night and sings a song to him about loving him forever, and its all well and good until she’s still sneaking into his room, lifting him up, and rocking him in her arms even once he’s a grown man in his own house across town. Um, really? Nobody finds this a little disturbing? Maybe it’s me. I do enjoy how wildly anachronistic some of the older books seem. My favorite example is Curious George, who is brought out of the jungle and back to civilized society by the Man in the Yellow Hat, and that first night, after a good meal, AND A GOOD PIPE, Curious George is ready for bed. Hooray! The cute little monkey Ariel is supposed to identify with is SMOKING! Outstanding!

Is it too early to start reading her books on baseball statistics and game theory?

June 21, 2011

Happy Birthday, Ariel! She’s now 4 years old. I was told that 3 ½ is the toughest age, so I’m ready for her behavior to improve dramatically. And…begin! Now. Don’t worry, I’ll wait.

Ariel’s birthday celebration goes on about as long as the NBA playoffs. We had people over last weekend to celebrate, we of course celebrated on her actual birthday, and then the official party is next Saturday. Which is great for her, since this schedule provides multiple ice cream eating opportunities, and that’s just about the most important thing about birthdays at this age. That doesn’t mean we didn’t get her a gift of course, but at least at this age you can get them something silly and small, spend almost no money, and they love it anyway. So we have that going for us. However, that’s just what they would be expecting us to do, so we went the other way, and got her a motorized car that probably has more horsepower than my first Honda accord (and cost more too). Holy-Waste-Of-Money, Batman! But it’s worth it, because she was so excited and happy when she got it that within a few hours of giving it to her she called me an idiot and told her Mom and I she was throwing us in jail. So that was a bit of a set-back.

We took her to a hibachi restaurant for her birthday, decided it would be a nice change of pace from her usual fare of chicken nuggets and mac and cheese. She thought for a while about having a melt-down when she realized grilled cheese wasn’t on the menu, but she got through that OK. Shockingly when the cook came out and lit the fire for the hibachi grill, it made both Ariel AND Jasmine immediately burst into tears, so that was impressive. They were both pretty scared of the fire, but once that was gone, they both liked it. Even Jasmine ate, and she doesn’t really eat. So score one for the Far East. Ariel made sure to tell the hibachi grill-master that it was her birthday, which probably would have resonated more with him if he had even a passing understanding of English. She also told the woman sitting at our table that one of her friends has a brother AND a sister, and the woman was suitably impressed of course. How could she not be?

Only 364 days until she turns 5.

June 19, 2011

Happy Father’s Day! We had the wife’s family over to celebrate both Father’s Day and Ariel’s upcoming 4th birthday, and of course the day was exhausting. But, I have to admit, it was really fun. Ariel was shockingly well behaved all day long. It’s staggering the difference that makes in the overall quality of a day. My gift from her was pretty funny, apparently at her pre-school they had the kids make things for dads for Father’s Day, and they made a card with a quote from each kid. Ariel’s was “I love Daddy because he buys me stuff.” Really? OK, sure, I expect her to feel that way when she’s 14, but, at 4? Don’t I have a few years of being the best just because I’m Daddy? No? Oh, OK, thanks. I didn’t realize that. The gift included a pen/pencil holder for my desk, and she had put all sports team stuff on it since she knows I love sports. She was SO excited to show me she had something from my favorite team, the Boston Red Sox. Sadly, that turned out to be the logo of the NY Red Bulls soccer team, not the Sox. And somehow 2 different NY Yankee logos got put on there. Which means two things. First, at least one of her teachers is going to find themselves unable to get tenure when I’m done with her (its possible I’m kidding, but not guaranteed), and second, we’re going to be making some slight modifications to Daddy’s pen/pencil holder that hopefully she won't notice.

June 16, 2011

Ariel’s babysitter noticed that her princess bag had a broken handle. That would be Ariel's bag, by the way, not her babysitter's. In case you were wondering. Anyway, she mentioned to Ariel that she should point it out to me so I can fix it. “Daddy doesn’t fix things. I’ll tell Papa Mimi (Grandpa).” I’d be offended if it wasn’t so undeniably true. Really, she could have suggested anybody we know other than MAYBE her 8 month old sister and she had a better shot getting the thing fixed than with me. Later, she completely colored in her belly button and insisted to Mommy that it was “an accident.” I can’t decide if she’s lying or is confused as to the meaning of the word “accident.” Kind of a coin flip really.

June 14, 2011

I’ve been trying hard the last few months to get Ariel to listen to what she calls “Daddy’s” music when we’re in the car together. “My” music pretty much consists of anything not directed at the under-5 set. Billy Joel, Katy Perry, Eminem, whatever, really it’s all the same to her. And to me, anything that doesn’t involve a princess or Daisy Duck singing is A-O-K with me. Much to my delight, recently she’s even started to enjoy some of it. She LOVES Lady Gaga’s Bad Romance (and obviously Gaga is a PERFECT role model for her), and keeps asking me to play the beginning of her song called “Black Jesus” because the line “Broadway Baby” is in that song…and also in the song played during her dance recital. Not only has this trend made car rides more pleasant for me, but it helps avoid the inevitable torture that used to occur when I would get one of her songs stuck in my head. Believe me, when you can’t, no matter what you do, stop hearing The Farmer in the Dell in your head, its not good times. Its bad times. Very bad times. I will say, though, that it makes me smile every time I scroll through my iPod and get to a block of her songs, and right after “I Had a Little Nut Tree” I come to “I Love Little Pussy.” Wow. Can’t let my iPod get into the wrong hands without supervision, huh?

June 11, 2011

Jasmine is teething. The nice thing about having a teething baby (besides the obvious screaming, crying, and general crankiness it brings) is that when she leans in to give me one of her patented, slobbery, lick-my-face kisses (which I love, actually), there’s at least a 40-50% chance that she’s going to chomp on my cheek like its an apple. I told her this morning that she was once again confusing “Daddy” with “breakfast,” and Ariel thought that was just about the funniest thing she ever heard. Which of course it was.

June 7, 2011

I’ve noticed that the standard for what constitutes “a really stupid thing to have a fight about” changes as you get older. When I was 12, it who got to play shortstop in a pick-up baseball game (me, obviously). At 19, it was whether I was taking my girlfriend to too many movies and not doing more “fun” things (as if anything is more fun than going to a movie, right?). At 33 it was what time I had to get home from watching football with my friends on Sundays (usually we could settle on halftime of the late games). Apparently at 41 we’ve reached a whole new level. Last night Ariel and I had a blow-up over who got to open and close the refrigerator. Really? Is that what 41 years of maturation and evolution have been for? Or MAYBE it was so that at 41 I could WIN the fight, which of course I did. Ah, progress. There’s no stopping it.

June 6, 2011

One of the many delights of parenthood they don’t tell you about ahead of time is back pain. You carry around little kids enough, and you hunch over while playing with little kids enough, and you lift car seats with babies in them enough, and you’re likely to end up with some back discomfort. Especially if you’re 41 (yes, I’m 41. Didn’t take Sherlock Holmes or Batman to deduce that one, did it?). Back pain is just something that comes with the territory. Or does it? I suffered from major, debilitating back pain for many, many years, until I read a book called “Mind Over Back Pain” by Dr. John Sarno. He believes the vast majority of back pain is caused not by physical abnormalities or injuries, but tension, which manifests itself by impeding blood circulation, which causes pain. The cure is not to eliminate tension, which is impossible, but simply to understand the cause, which results in the tension taking a different avenue of expression which eliminates the pain. I had been to a bunch of doctors, tried every treatment I could, and nothing helped. Then I read his 112 page book and a few weeks later I was pain free for the first time in 15 years. I now re-read it every few years to remind myself of what I now know to be true about my pain and where it comes from. I swear to God, if Dr. Sarno ever calls me and says he needs $10,000.00, he’ll have it in cash, no questions asked, by the next day. Just don’t tell the missus….

June 3, 2011

Any parent of a toddler will tell you that TV aimed at the under 5-set isn’t particularly interesting. Sure, we all have fine memories of Sesame Street, and I used to love such classics as The Electric Company, the Magic Garden and ZOOM. But obviously if asked to list my favorite shows, the Mickey Mouse Clubhouse isn’t right there in the mix with The West Wing, The Wire and The Sopranos. There are a couple shows that are actually pretty clever (Chuggington is occasionally cute, and the Backyardigans is very well done, but of course Ariel for whatever reason isn’t a big fan), but for the most part it’s slim pickings. This morning’s choice was Team Umizoomi, which is about a team of 3 very small cartoon super-heroes: a boy named Geo, a girl named Millie, and a robot named…Bot. Something tells me the writing room wasn’t up all night brainstorming brilliantly clever names for the robot. Anyway, they use their “mighty-mighty-math powers” to fight crime. Well, actually they don’t fight crime, they perform amazingly unnecessary acts like bring little kids (actual kids, not cartoons, for reasons that aren’t entirely clear to me) milk for their snack or find a missing stuffed animal. Geo is a pretty powerful individual, despite his diminutive size (and we’re not talking Gary Coleman or Verne Troyer here, we’re talking like the size of a pencil). He can literally create ANYTHING out of thin air, by using his super shapes. Now, I think we can all agree that’s a useful skill to have. In fact, one could argue that Geo should be using that power to do things just slightly more helpful to society (I don’t know, maybe making food or fossil fuels or something?) than checking out the last known whereabouts of Teddy the Bear. But hey, it’s a free country, if that’s what he wants to do, that’s his business. Now, his sister Millie is supposed to be his equal, which of course is commendable. No reason why Geo’s sister should be any less powerful than him, right? Well, Millie’s power is that she can change her dress to be any pattern she wants. AND, she can make other things magically turn into the same pattern as her dress! Isn’t that fantastic??? Her brother can create a car, house, hell, even a rocket launcher from a few shapes on his belt, and Millie’s contribution to the team is that she can go from gingham to plaid without walking to her closet. Now, I’m not the most PC guy in the world, but seriously, this show needs to re-evaluate itself a bit. I’m just saying.

June 2, 2011

A DAY IN THE LIFE

7:00 A.M. – Ariel is up! She comes downstairs, hops into our bed, and demands Mickey. Mouse, that is, clearly. Boring, but when compared to the dreck that is Thomas the Tank Engine or the unbelievable insipid-ness of Dora the Explorer, it’s practically Modern Family. So on it goes. After an episode she wants breakfast, but only while wearing her Princess Tiana dress. I stumble out of bed and get her to brush her teeth and get dressed, and I was only told that I’m not being nice like 5 times, so not too bad all things considered.

8:00 A.M. – Ariel eats breakfast while I stand there fantasizing. Sure, there was a time where my fantasies would involve Jessica Alba and a secluded beach. Now it’s imagining a world in which Dunkin Donuts delivered coffee to your door. Attempts to engage Ariel in conversation…are not successful. So its one of THOSE mornings, huh? Okey dokey.

8:15 A.M. – Ariel is done with breakfast, the wife is dealing with Jasmine who’s now awake, and Ariel wants to play. I’m supposed to hold her lovey while she pretends to be Evil Dr. Pork Chop from the Toy Story movies and grab it away from me. Then we switch characters. The thing to know about imaginative play is that it’s REALLY good for your kids. It really stimulates their brain and is essential for full development. The other thing is that it freakin’ sucks for parents. 8:45 A.M., when we have to leave for school, can’t get here fast enough.

8:45 A.M. – We’re off to school! After I get her situated, I stop at Dunkin for coffee for me, Starbucks for a latte for the wife, and head back home. One thing about working from home, not much of a commute.

9:15 A.M. – 12:00 P.M. – Work. Enjoying how the stress of work pales in comparison to the stress of enduring imaginative play.

12:00 P.M. – 12:30 P.M. – Lunch!! Woo-hoo! Me time!! I eat while reading baseball articles on the web and checking out Facebook. Sure, it’s an early lunch, but if I’m going to eat with the family at 5:30 (a nice hour before I’m particularly interested in dinner), I need to eat this early or I’ll have no appetite.

12:30 P.M. - 5:30 P.M. – Work. Feels like ME time, though clearly, not so much.

5:30 P.M. – Meet friends for a few beers, grab dinner at this amazing Mexican place in town, and catch a late movie.

5:35 P.M. – finish up 5-minute fantasy about what I wish I were going to be doing for the rest of the evening. Prepare myself for what I actually will be doing.

5:35 P.M. – 7:45 P.M. – Hardest part of the day, so lets game our game face on. Dinner typically involves the following super occurrences. Asking Ariel how her day was. Hearing she doesn’t want to talk about it. Being asked by Ariel if she can have dessert yet. And again. And again. Ariel getting up from the table 5 times for a variety of non-reasons, and snapping at us when we ask her to sit back down. Then baths for Ariel and Jasmine, then the delight that is getting Ariel in pj’s and ready for bed. Wife feeds Jasmine and gets her down while I read to Ariel. Snuggling with Ariel makes up for all of the difficulties. Well, no, that’s preposterous, but it’s nice. J

7:45 P.M. -8:15 P.M. - I do the dishes and clean the kitchen while Wife snuggles with Ariel to finish her off. Kind of like bringing in Papelbon to close out a game. It’s not a 1-2-3 inning like she were Mariano Rivera or something, but she gets the job done.

8:15 P.M. – 9:00 P.M. – Work. No longer enchanted by it at this hour. Drained by the bedtime routine. Just want a vodka tonic and to sit and watch TV.

9:00 P.M. – 10:30 P.M. - Vodka tonic and sit and watch TV with Wife.

10:30 P.M. – bed.

11:30 P.M. – 7:00 A.M. – sleep, interrupted an average of 3 times by the girls. Lather, rinse, repeat.

May 31, 2011

Memorial Day Weekend is now in the rear-view mirror. No other holiday emphasizes the difference between my life pre and post kids as well as M-D-W. I LOVED M-D-W in the “old days.” Like back in the early 2000’s before my girls arrived. Back then M-D-W meant summer was on the way, and I almost always went away that weekend. I lived in LA then, so Vegas was most often the destination, but sometimes Hawaii or some golf resort somewhere. With buddies before I got married, and obviously with the wife thereafter. Now, it’s just another 3-day weekend, and what once were extended periods of relaxing without the stress of work have now become 3 days of uninterrupted family time…which often feels like one long extended test of how long I can go without losing my patience with Ariel. I desperately want to live in a society where it’s permissible to tell your 3 year old to FOR THE LOVE OF GOD SHUT UP! Anyone know any societies like that? And if so, is housing affordable there? And this was actually a pretty GOOD 3-day weekend. We had family and friends over to use the pool (recently bought a house with a pool, which is fun, but is probably going to drive us into Chapter 11 some day), and the weather cooperated. Now, of course, Ariel didn’t do a whole lot of cooperating, because that’s not how she (sometimes) rolls. She seems to be at all times merely seconds away from a total meltdown of yelling and insanity-inducing back-talk that seems to appear from NOWHERE. Which helps make the house feel as relaxing as a day-spa, obviously. And I’ll admit, much of what she says is funny the next day (like when I told her she can’t hit the dog with her toy mop and she responded by screaming at me that I then can’t EVER, EVER, EVER play with her dollies. Really? Um, ok, I can live with that, thanks). But when she’s going off…and it’s like the 10th time that day…and you’re tired from, you know, life? Wow. So not funny. Like George Lopez not funny. (Hey! It’s an unprovoked and pretty much out-of-leftfield attack on George Lopez!) And special events (like friends coming over) invariably lead to later bedtimes, which lead to tired children who make putting them to bed more difficult. And as all parents know, putting little kids to bed isn’t a process that’s crying out to be made more difficult. It’s not like Ariel falls asleep at night and I find myself feeling cheated since it wasn’t enough of a challenge. So let’s just say that as of Tuesday morning, I’m not exactly feeling refreshed and ready to attack the work week. .

May 27, 2011

Ariel was en fuego today. Carrying on, refusing to get dressed, wouldn’t go on the potty, just generally being HER, and I did everything I could not to lose it. She threw her “lovey” (small blanket) at the dog and I took it away from her, telling her that when she does what she’s not supposed to, she has to live with the consequences. Her reply was “Who are the consequences? I don’t WANT to live with the consequences! I want to live with my family!” So yeah, that was pretty funny.

May 15, 2011

We had parent/teacher conferences at Ariel’s pre-school a while back. Which of course seems utterly insane since she’s 3 years old. But welcome to 2011. Anyway, the wife and I were ready to hear that Ariel is, shall we say, a “handful,” and that the faculty is all chipping in to send her away to China or something, and instead they hit us with this nugget. “We have absolutely NOTHING negative to say about Ariel. She’s cooperative and kind and plays well with others and we wish we had 10 of her in the class.” Ok, I’m sorry, I’m going to need to call a 20-second time out here. WHAT??? I mean, it’s fabulous that she behaves beautifully at school, and obviously that means she can modify her behavior when she wants to, so that’s good (especially if she decides to be a politician or career criminal or something productive like that). But still, are you kidding me? First of all, the idea of 10 Ariels could, to me, EASILY be the basis of the next Wes Craven film. Second, why exactly is she a goody-goody at school and Bart Simpson at home? WTF?

Intro

Someone once asked me “Why do you LOVE being a parent? I know there are a million reasons, but give me the ONE THING that sums it all up.” For me, that was easy. “I don’t,” I replied. This blog is about how you can love your children and still very much NOT love parenting. People know it's difficult (“difficult” being close to the understatement of the century) but non-parents don’t always know why. And parents forget. Which is probably a good thing, since forgetting causes them to have more kids. Which continues the species and all. The main characters in our tragedy/comedy (other than me) are the 3 women in my life. The female lead will be played by my older daughter (let’s call her “Ariel”, as this blog will be semi-anonymous, and that’s her favorite Disney princess). She is almost 4 years old and incredibly…challenging. Difficult? Sure. Frustrating? Definitely. She’s also really smart, child-model beautiful, and precocious and funny and when she’s not making you want to sell her on eBay she can light up your life with a smile. And the things she says just cry out to be heard. Plus, I’m sure they’re way funnier when you don’t have to tell her to pipe down and go to bed, so I think she’ll be a crowd-pleaser. My younger daughter (“Pocahontas”…no, just kidding, let’s go with “Jasmine”) is a breeze so far. She’s 8 months old and doesn’t say nearly as many funny things as Ariel, though really it’s an unfair comparison what with her inability to speak and all. She just rolls with whatever comes, so she seems to be just ever-so-slightly-different in terms of overall disposition than her big sis. And of course the 3rd lady is my wife (“Belle,” just to continue the theme), who shares many of my frustrations but somehow still loves being a Mom, which is probably part of why she’s such a terrific one, as you’ll discover. Hope you enjoy…