Daddy Magic

It was like a sucker punch straight to the gut. She said...
"Found it Daddy. Your Daddy magic is gone."

WHAT?!

How dare she. There I was performing the same rinky dink magic (but not really) trick I always did when she asked. I put the little squishy ball in my right hand, distract her with my left and then throw the ball behind the couch while she's not looking. Works like a charm.

Well, it used to.

But this time not only did she NOT fall for the distraction but she kept a very close eye on my right hand watching its every move. Finally I managed to distract her by making her laugh and she closed her eyes just long enough for me to get rid of the ball. But instead of her being amazed when I opened my right hand, she says...

"Okay, now bring it back."

WHAT?!

She never asked me to do that before. Now what? But before I could even respond that's when she walked to the back of the couch, found the ball, brought it back to me and said...

"Found it. Your Daddy magic is gone."

Now I don't know if there's a conspiracy in the house and maybe I've been ratted out by her mother but this won't stand. No self respecting Dad wants to hear those words...

"Your Daddy magic is gone."

Time to buy a magic book and get my Daddy magic back. The nerve of some little people.

My Body Is A Temple

(That's me.......for real.)

 

I don't want to toot my own horn but in my prime I was a pretty decent physical specimen (toot toot) but time caught up with me and before I knew it, one missed workout here, an extra serving of Mama's Mac-n-cheese there, and all of a sudden I'm adding new notches to my belt (literally).

Needless to say I got my ass in gear and made am making some changes. Domestication and Netflix have a lot to do with my motivation. Now I'm back on track and here are ten reasons to NOT fall off the rails again (in no particular order):


1  I remember when we were dating, my wife would peek while I got dressed/undressed. Now she looks away or leaves the room.

2  I have to live long enough so that one day these girls will have to take care of me. The best way to achieve vindication for all the dirty diapers, crying and emotional abuse is to make them deal with dirty diapers, crying and emotional abuse. It's the only way I'll ever feel like I got "payback".

3  The Zombie Apocalypse! (The Walking Dead version - watch)

4  "Approximately 41 percent of African American males have nearly double the incidence of high blood pressure/heart disease, compared to their Caucasian counterparts," ~ www.Heart.org

5  If the world gets hit by a giant asteroid like in the movies Deep Impact or Armageddon and humanity has to race to high ground, I'm making sure this family gets a spot on dry land.

6  When Zari is 17, I'll be 50! I have to make sure I can be at least a little physically intimidating to any knuckleheads that might ring our doorbell looking for her.

7  When Morgan is 17, I'll be 52! I have to make sure I can be at least a little physically intimidating to any knuckleheads that might ring our doorbell looking for her.

8  Global Warming. At the rate we're going now, super tornadoes, monster blizzards, tsunamis, volcano eruptions, and flash floods, etc. will be "normal" one day. It's going to take a lot of strength, speed, and agility to navigate through all of that. Thank you P90X.

9  The Zombie Apocalypse! (The 28 Weeks Later version - watch)

10  Skynet will wake up and the machines will take over. Don't laugh. One day your fancy phone that you love so much because it can do EVERYTHING is going to look like Arnold Schwarzenegger. Then what? I'm just saying. Better prepared.

Girls in a Bubble

I remember growing up on a street with lots of kids and we spent many hours together riding bikes, playing football in the street, chasing each other and just doing dumb stuff. Unfortunately I've probably forgotten more than I remember but I know it was all good.

I really miss those days. The friendships that were built on the fact that these were the first people you saw when you walked out of your house and the last ones you saw before you went in for the night. And yeah we all had our own friends from school or other places but there was something about the people that lived next door or a few houses down that made it all feel like a family.

(*warning* hypocritical material below)

Now with that being said, there were some kids on the block that we didn't see much of or that didn't always socialize with the rest of us, either by choice or parental restriction and of course the rest of us had our own juvenile feelings about them. As youngsters we couldn't understand and may have even been a little offended that someone didn't want or wasn't allowed to be a member of the "family".

And now if I could go back and talk to all of those parents that kept tight reins on their kids, I'd apologize for all of the smart ass remarks directed towards them and their children. Because now I understand. When I look out my window today at the kids playing in our neighborhood, I think to myself...

"Hell nah, there's no way my girls are going out there."

I'm not saying that the kids in our cul-de-sac are on the fast track to Sing Sing or San Quentin and hopefully the adults back in the day didn't think of us that way. But I am saying that sometimes it's better to err on the side of caution and that's what my gut is telling me now.

I hate to say it because it makes me a huge hypocrite but the girls won't be as free to go outside and play as I was. Sure they can go out and play but that's why we have a fence around our backyard. Absolutely they'll get plenty of physical activity thanks to karate lessons, soccer, dancing, gymnastics and parks (with Daddy!).

I am so thankful for the way I grew up and wouldn't change it for anything and I don't want to deprive the girls of that kind of experience but times have changed are changing.


I know we can't or shouldn't raise our kids in a bubble but what if it's a really big bubble? There is a middle ground between total isolation and running amuck and that's where the girls will hang out. I grew up in the late 80's early 90's and by the time they're even old enough to go outside alone I doubt there will be ANY resemblance to those days. That sucks for them because those were great times. The silver lining is that they'll never know what they're missing. But I definitely will.

Daddy's Little Narcotic

My 2 year old walked into the room, climbed up on my lap, laid her head on my chest and just started watching t.v. with me.

I asked her, "What's wrong baby?"
"I want to sit with you." She said.

#Wow

I can't really explain how that made me feel but I'd guess any parent is familiar with the feeling or at least I hope so. I know Love because I love my wife, my parents, siblings, etc. But this wasn't THAT. I want to say it was like eating an endless supply of your favorite food but even then you'd eventually get full and have to stop. There is no getting enough of THIS feeling.

While she watched television I watched her, smelled her hair, pinched her cheeks and kissed her head. She had to be wondering...

"What is up with Daddy?",

But she never complained. It was like she knew how tightly she was wrapping me around her little fingers just by sitting there and letting me soak it all in.

"I got him now" is what she was probably thinking. And between me and her (and now you), I'm cool with that. Even when we're in public and I deny it, we'll both know the truth.

Like I said, I know Love. I feel it everyday, I'm surrounded by it but THIS isn't THAT. It's something else. Every once and a while she'd look up at me and I'd look back and start thinking about my life before her, my life with her now and her life in the future without me, all at once. It's like I was Keanu Reeves getting plugged into the Matrix and all of these images and feelings start surging through my brain.

Then after about 20 minutes she hears her sister in the other room and climbs down and runs off...

"Okay, see you later crocodile!"

And she's gone.

But I'm okay, I don't make a fuss. I had my moment and now I can clear my mind, get back to killing brain cells in front of the boob tube in peace. I'll try to figure out what kind of narcotic she slipped into my water while I wasn't looking and search for an antidote before she's old enough to ask for the keys to the car.

And don't worry I'm not showing favorites. I have something for the other one too. But too much sentiment at once is bad for the "crazy daddy" image.

#keeppushing
#BeBetter

Chapter 8

One day I'll write a book about being a father and I'll call it: "Being Daddy: Yall Didn't Tell Me It Would Be Like This".

The book will focus on all the stuff people DON'T warn you about becoming a parent. Granted, becoming a mom or dad is probably different for everyone but there are a few things that we all have in common.

For example, Chapter 8: Yoga Is Your Friend.

As soon as my wife found out she was pregnant with our first daughter I should have signed up for Yoga classes. This would have given me ample time to prepare my body for the trauma it would experience for the next several years (and that's several years PER child).

Here's a sample of chapter 8 for your reading pleasure.


Yoga Will Come In Handy When...

1) You're a new dad and trying to feed your newborn for the first time. Nothing you've ever done has prepared you for the way your muscles will tense up from fear and anxiety as you try to hold this tiny living being with one hand and the warm bottle you just spent 20 minutes heating to the right temperature in the other. Not to mention the way your back will ache because you didn't get into the right position before you started feeding and now you're too scared to move.

2) You get caught slipping, laying flat on any surface; bed, floor, couch, etc. and leave yourself vulnerable to some energetic toddler who mistakes you for a trampoline. When it's time to play your kids don't want to hear about a slipped disc, cracked vertebrae, bruised sternum, or any of that foolishness. It's time to jump and you offered your body by NOT standing up when they walked in the room.

3) You're new to the car seat game. Bending over into the car trying to untangle straps and fasten this or that, can do "work" on your neck and back. Especially if you take too long. Finger dexterity comes in handy in this situation as well. You may need to combine Yoga with meditation in this instance if you have a child rushing you during the entire process. (See Chapter 3: Meditation, How To Escape Reality Even For Just A Moment).

4) Your favorite chair or favorite spot on the couch is now EVERYONE's favorite spot on the couch. What kind of dad says "beat it I was here first"? So you practice what you preach and you share your cozy little "spot"and you make space. But this requires flexible limbs and a limber spine to bend and twist in a way that allows everyone else to be comfortable and allows you to at least have somewhere to sit.

There are more examples but if I give it all away now you won't buy the book. NY Times Bestsellers list here we come!

Same (You know What) Different Day

For the last couple of months I've rejoiced in the fact that everyone in this house is finally potty trained. But now I'm starting to realize that I'm not as "out of the woods" as I thought. Even Z (4) still has to be monitored depending on what she's throwing down in the bathroom and M (2) most DEFINITELY needs a chaperone just to make sure things don't get away from her.

So no, I don't change diapers anymore but I do have to stop what I'm doing whenever I hear "I have to potty!!!" And it's not like a subtle:
"Oh father, the time has come for me to relieve myself. Will you please accompany me as to ensure the efficiency of my actions."
It's more like being in a firehouse and the alarm goes off and everybody starts to scatter, like:
"Daddy I gotta go and I gotta go now so if you don't get there before I do I can't be held responsible for what might go down....or up!"

Anyway, once everyone is safely in place then I go into "correction officer mode" like we're in Oz (HBO not Judy Garland).

"Be still. Are you finished? Don't get up. Make sure you're done. Okay get up. Use the wipes. Flush. Get your hand outta there! Don't touch anything! Wash your hands. Don't touch anything! Dry your hands." etc.

So the days of dry heaving and nausea are gone and I've traded my rubber gloves for a drill instructor whistle. But I should have known better than to celebrate like it was one more responsibility I could scratch off my list. Instead it evolved like most of them do into a different kind of responsibility.

But that's okay, I can deal with it for now because payback is gonna stink (literally) in about 45-50 years.