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Dad Blogs Family Life in these United States Marriage

Tell me how you REALLY feel!

Next to perhaps husbands whose fumbling and bumbling, “couldn’t find his way through the mall without his wife” antics are well-documented by the media, the second most vilified social group in America, is the in-laws. Situationally, I think of the Griswolds in “Christmas Vacation.”

Every married couple has them, unless something devastating has happened, and it’s the in-law parents that we most hear about and make fun of. And while we all roll our eyes whenever we speak to others about them–regardless of whether or not we really feel that way–it’s not often we’re totally honest with our spouse about how we view our in-laws.

No? Well, draft up a “Will” and then give me a call.

I’m almost ashamed to admit that CareerMom and I, at the ripe old ages of…um…our current age, haven’t had a will, despite having two children (now three). It’s been ever-present on our minds, but we just never took the time to do it. I started doing one on some software I got for free with my tax software a couple of years ago, but I gave up after about five minutes of looking at the dozens of document options and becoming completely overwhelmed. But as luck would have it, God put people on this earth who have taken it upon themselves to figure out how to simplify these things for people like us. I think their formula goes something like this:

“Find guilt-driven parent. Convince them they need a will and promise to do it dirt cheap. While you’re in their kitchen talking to them about estate planning, scare the bee-Jesus out of them by explaining how their kids may not actually get ANYTHING thanks to the U.S. Government, and then hit them up for several add-ons to pay for our coming out to their house and doing this thing.”

So now we have a Will. We also have one of those “Don’t let me die like Terry Schiavo” documents too that tells whomever I deem appropriate, that I don’t want to be kept alive if I’m not eating on my own and wiping my own bum whenever I go to the bathroom.

In the course of this process, we had to decide a few things, such as:

  1. If we both get taken out by one of those parachuting Chick-Fil-A cows, who gets the kids? What if our first choice for custodians are also in the car and die? Who is our second choice?
  2. If any of the above happens, who decides how our money is spent?

Now here’s where it gets hairy. When it comes to deciding who gets your kids, naturally for many people–certainly for us–our immediate family came to mind, but so did every conceivable reason why they should, or should NOT be given such a responsibility.

  • They’re too old
  • They’re too sick
  • They live in Tim-buck-too (OK, Tennessee, but close enough apparently)
  • They have too many other grandkids to worry about
  • They don’t need this responsibility at their age
  • They live too far from MY family
  • blah
  • blah
  • blah

At a time like this, it’s hard to take your emotion out of it and step back logically and look at the situation. Given my familial background, and the fact that I’m closest to the one person who is probably the least related to me, either by blood or by law, I think I have a unique ability to do this–to separate what’s best for the kids, from what’s not going to hurt someone’s feelings.

Some call this ability a gift–others call it mean, brutal honesty. Only time will tell.

At any rate, the conversation that ensued while CareerMom and I debated these questions was not pretty–and it’s also not over despite having signed the papers. For every logical reason I have about why such and such a person should or shouldn’t be doing something with our kids or any money we have left over after I hire Guns N Roses to play at my cremation, CareerMom has her feelings about it and it generally differs from mine.

I foresee numerous posts stemming from this topic, but today’s take-home message is this: “Sure, your spouse SAYS they like your mom’s slightly eccentric mannerisms. And your dad isn’t crazy…he’s just gruff. But present the idea of having your children live with them for the rest of their pre-adult lives and see what your spouse says.”

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Dad Blogs Family Life in these United States

My How Times Have Changed

Having recently been forced to upgrade my old computer, I’ve started realizing just how much things have changed in the last decade. And I pick the 10-year point because it’s when my life changed most significantly, and because it’s just a nice round number. But watching change happen around you is a bit like watching your hairline disappear—it happens so slowly that you don’t really notice it til someone points it out to you and then WHAM! You can’t NOT notice it anymore.

For instance, ten years ago:

  • We were all using dial-up
  • A 2.6Ghz Intel Pentium chip, with Hyperthreading, was just da-bomb! Now, it sucks
  • My dogs were puppies
  • I thought making the money that I do now would be a blessing
  • Christmas was still about “me”!
  • Stamps were 33 cents each
  • The DOW closed above 11,000 for the first time (aaah, the good old days. Thank you Mr. Reagan!)
  • IE version 5.0 was released (we’re now on what…8.x?)
  • MySpace was introduced and pervs around the world could now show off their freakiness!
  • We were all walking around quoting “Austin Powers”

But there have been more personal changes of course. For instance, in the last ten years, I’ve gone back to school and finished my degree. I’ve had three children and I’ve now been married for ten years. Ten years…wow!

Funny thing is, my shell has changed, but my mind has not. I’m still the same young-at-heart, testosterone-laden Male I was then. Only now it’s tempered with respect for my wife.

Now rather than figuring out when I want to start having kids, I’m trying to figure out how to stop having them and still have fun.

Instead of going for a run at 9 p.m. cuz I’m bored and have too much energy, I veg out in front of the TV while lying in bed because I know I’ll be up at the butt-crack of dawn getting juice and blankets for the boys, in between potty training and bottle feedings.

This is how old age gets you. It doesn’t hit you all at once with a slip in the bathtub and a hip fracture. No, it sneaks up on you little by little until the next thing you know, you’re having thyroid tests run and trying to figure out when Taylor Swift stopped looking like a child and became a hottie you’d hit given half a chance! (When you were SINGLE. When you were single…)

Oh snap! Maybe my mind HAS changed.

Crap!

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Dad Blogs Family Fatherhood Life in these United States

I’m alright, ain’t nobody worried ’bout me…

Seriously folks, despite the total lack of communication in more months than I’m ashamed to admit, we’re all good here.

Busy. Tired. Completely OVER the cost of daycare. But fine, nevertheless.

Just to catch you up in easy to read bullets:

  • Yes, I’m still alive and kicking.
  • I still have my job, my family, and if you disregard a busted toe, bad wrist and knees, I still have my health.
  • Marissa (our newest member) is 3.5 months old now. She’s a HOSS! But she’s also a sweetheart as long as you follow the rules:
    – If you hold her, you cannot stop moving. This means no sitting down…evar!
    – She likes to eat. Keep a bottle handy.
    – She will suck the dye out of your shirt, so you must ALWAYS keep a burp cloth over your shoulder
    – Never joke about not having changed a big poopy recently. You WILL regret it
  • MLI and MLE are doing well. They are also turning into true brothers, which means constant nitpicking at each other (which means mom and dad are constantly yelling at them)

Yeah, that’s pretty much it. Just surviving the holidays the best way we know how (avoidance?). I promise to try and blog more…I really do. There’s just been no free time lately. If I DO have free time, I’m probably doing something wrong and should be either making dinner, cleaning the house, or holding the baby.

If I don’t talk to you soon, I wish all my virtual buds (and budettes) a very merry Christmas!

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Dad Blogs Family Fatherhood Marriage

Slummin’ in North Atlanta

IMG00002-20091017-1913 At times, I find myself completely ill-prepared for parenting. One would think that by now, I’d have a general handle on the basic tenets of parenthood, but every now and then a new experience reminds me just how far I still have to go.

The past Saturday night was “Movie Night with Dad” at my son’s school. The gist: “Bring your blankets and flashlights and come sit out under the stars and watch the animated movie, “Space Chimps” with your kids!”

OK sure. That meant turning down Georgia Tech/Virginia Tech tickets, missing part of the Alabama/South Carolina game, and it also meant sitting outside in the cold, miserable mist for the duration, but MLI wanted to do it and I didn’t want to let him down.

So I packed Hot Chocolate, a neon glow stick, a blanket, jackets and our little lawn chairs and out we headed. Arriving at the school, instead of a crowded soccer field, instead we found a big handpainted sign: Movie Night Moved into the Cafeteria.

(so much for hoping MLI would get cold and want to go home early)

Gathering our stuff, we headed inside and found ourselves faced with a jam-packed cafeteria full of lounging parents and screaming kids. It was hot; it was crowded; and it was noisy. NOT my favorite three conditions for public events.

Determined to make the most of it, MLI and I found a spot near the middle-edge of the gym and I unpacked the chairs and got us set up…only to immediately realize we were sitting in front of a 3-foot concert speaker that started blaring Miley Cyrus tunes! AAAARRRGGH! (BTW – Would someone tell her she CAN’T sing!)

Luckily, I was able to scooch our chairs a bit over so that the speaker wasn’t directly in our ears. Thus positioned, we sat down to survey our kingdom, which consisted of a small square of hard cafeteria linoleum. I looked over at MLI and asked, “You OK buddy?” He looked up and nodded.

But you know how it is…the longer you sit somewhere, the more you notice the little details. For example, while we had eaten at home, seemingly every other parent there had brought pizza. In comparison, my hot chocolate seemed both unnecessary and meager.  Another “little” detail I discovered was that while I had pulled out the only two “lawn chairs” I had out of the dirty garage, other parents had their “Lands End” or other brand name chairs with them. Mine were dingy green with (is that a spider egg?!) “things” hanging from cobwebs off the arm handles–theirs were coordinated color schemes and heavy-duty steel tubing. Mine was Wal-Mart “on sale” pastel and theirs were “corporate branded Thank You” gifts with cup holders and monogramming.

I was truly embarrassed, both for myself and for MLI. In all fairness, this event was supposed to be outside in the dark, where little details like wouldn’t matter; but it was just another lesson in the fact that when you’re a parent, you have to be prepared for everything. Next time, I promise to step it up a notch. After having already lashed out at another parent this past week after she e-mailed everyone asking for donations for a basket (after having mentioned how she and her husband were donating a set of Golf Clubs and Falcons Tickets with sideline passes) I really need to show that I’m not a total tool.

Sorry Chipper Jones’ family. I didn’t mean to bring down the “wealth index” of the rest of the school!

On a sidenote, despite all the problems, I got a firsthand opportunity to watch how my son handles the opposite sex. About halfway through the movie, a cadre of three girls came weaving their way through the chairs and blankets. Coming to a halt in front of MLI, they all said, “Hi Ethan.” I looked over and he was hunkered down in his chair trying not to look at them. Then, one of them had the audacity to lean over and whisper into his ear! I was dying!!! It was great. I tried to get him to go with them and sit up front, but he wasn’t budging. Can’t say I blame him. I was similarly shy when I was his age. But that made the rest of the evening all worthwhile. For me anyway. For MLI, I think the unlimited Starbursts did the trick.