If you missed part 1, read it here.

Ty’s first day of kindergarten was filled with highs and lows (the lows can all be attributed to Fefe). There was excitement as well as sadness and a little bit of anger mixed in too.  Most kindergarten first days run pretty smoothly, ours resulted in us getting kicked out of the school. Read on to hear all about it.

As you can tell from the vid, Ty was pumped & ready to go bright and early in the morning.  His comment about not wanting to be small in school actually struck a nerve with me and I’ll be addressing it in a later blog post.  What you couldn’t see from the video however is the excitement of the other members of our family.  Fefe got up super early, willingly I might add, and cooked a big breakfast for the whole family to send Ty off for his big day with plenty of nutrients.  Little does she know, she has now painted herself in a corner because I’ve been begging for breakfast before work for months now and she’s always “too tired” to wake up early enough to do it.  Well well well missy, if you can do it for Ty, then you can do it for me!!!

Continuing on, after breakfast the entire team got ready for the required photo op:

Let's Go Already

I Can Already See Tears

During the picture taking, Tre must have felt a tad bit left out & ran upstairs to get a book bag for himself.  Even though he wasn’t going to school, he was ready for the cameras and looking the part of a school boy nonetheless. 

Tre's All Set To Go

When it comes to event planning, Fefe should be avoided at all costs!  She was in charge and running point for the big day and had two MAJOR snafu’s.  First up, I don’t know if she was just eager to get rid of the boy or her excitement took over her better judgment; whatever the case, her timing for drop off was all screwed up.  She was well aware of the fact that the first bell rang at 8:45am, but for some unknown reason, she got us there at 8:20.  Okay, 25mins isn’t all that bad.  Yeah, it’s not that bad until you end up getting kicked out of the school.  What type of message does that send to Ty?  Kicked out on his first day? He’s destined to fail with a start like that! 

It wasn’t so bad, we were simply asked to wait outside until the bell rang because students aren’t actually allowed inside until first bell.  I thought that this “suggestion” was just a little too well timed however, because it came immediately after Tre threw a fit regarding going to pee in the potty.  Never mind the fact that he had already peed twice in a matter of 5 mins, he wanted to go again and made sure the entire school knew it.

Once our reprimand had been lifted, we entered the school and took Ty to his classroom.  After a quick paperwork check in, we were all giving hugs and saying our goodbyes.  Once Ty was completely covered with slobbery kisses, we sent him off to enjoy his first day; the kid didn’t bat an eye as he left us to walk into his class.  Everyone was prepared to let Ty take his first steps towards being a big kid; well everyone except Tre.   

The Kindergarten Mugshot

Fefe's Face Intentionally Cut Off; Too Many Tears

Tre began to express his desire to accompany Ty as he walked away heading towards his class.  We explained that Ty had to go to school to do work and Tre gets to go home and play with Mommy.  He didn’t care and fired back “Daddy, I got book bag, I go to school too”.  The little guy said it with such conviction that for a split second I actually was under the impression that a book bag was the only prerequisite for attending Kindergarten.  Luckily, Fefe was front and center to pick up the slack and enticed him with the promise of a popsicle at home.  He agreed to the terms and we were off.

Remember those snafus that I told you about?  Well the second one occurred when it was time to pick Ty up from the bus stop.  Fefe had the “bright” idea to walk to the bus stop to pick him up.  It’ll be nice she said, we can hear all about his day on the walk home she said.  Yeah, it would have been really nice IF IT WASN’T 97 DEGREES out!  After walking in blistering heat, and subsequently standing in the sun for 15 mins because the bus was late, Ty finally arrived & we were all pumped to hear about his day.  Unfortunately, it didn’t play out that way.  All Ty was concerned about was getting out of the heat and vowed not to say a word until we met his demands of air conditioning and ice cold water (we’re gonna have to work on his negotiating skills).

Once we got back home, Ty explained his day to us and it went something like this:

Me: So how was school?

Ty: It was GREAT!

Fefe: What did you do?

Ty: We did a bunch of stuff!

Fefe: Like what?

Ty:  Like, um, like, well a bunch of stuff

This banter carried on for a bit longer, eventually we were able to squeeze out that they watched 4 episodes of Clifford the Big Red Dog until the bell rang, went to the playground, he made 2 friends, they ate lunch, he colored some pictures but couldn’t bring them home, he can’t wear his Silly Bandz (thank God), the bus ride home was long, they read a book, and learned a new song.

Yup, that was pretty much his day in a nutshell, well actually it wasn’t in a nutshell for us because these little bits of information just kept spewing out periodically throughout the day.  There was no rhyme, reason, or cohesion to his story, but it was his story and he was proud of it!

A Quarter Can Change The World

Allow me to take you back, back in time to a place when things were much much simpler.  Close your eyes for a moment and imagine…wait a minute, if you close your eyes, how can you read this post? Okay scratch that, keep your eyes open and imagine your oh so wonderful childhood, when you had not a care in the world.  Ah the good ole days right, a bag of chips cost 25 cents, summer actually meant 2 entire months of freedom.  Yeah, life was a lot easier back then and as much as we’d like to stay young forever, it’s not very feasible.  However, when there are kids around, you can be forever young, reliving your special memories through them.  That’s what happened to me the other day, Tre made a comment that showed my exactly how simplistic his world view is and it’s been the highlight of my week, possibly the whole month.

A few days ago, I get a call from Fefe while I’m at work. It was a short call, straight to the point: “You better bring home a quarter, gotta go”.  Just read that sentence for a moment; now imagine how baffled I was on the other end of the line listening to it.  I’ve recently introduced Fefe to the joys of one of my favorite television shows, “The Wire” so I thought this was some half-ass joke. Maybe she was pretending our phones were tapped and she was talking in code to set up a drug deal?  Whatever the case, I spent way more time than I should have trying to determine what was going on.  Completely stumped, I pushed it out of my mind and carried on.  Until I got a text while on my way home: “You get the quarter?” Okay, enough is enough, somebody’s gonna explain to me what’s going on here!

So I called her and demanded that she explain all of this quarter talk that she had been rambling about throughout the day. She gladly obliged and told me about a conversation that she had with Tre earlier in the day.

Tre: “Mommy, Daddy at work?”

Fefe: “Yes baby, Daddy’s at work”

Tre: “Daddy went to work to get quarters”

Fefe: “huh?”

Tre: “Daddy went to work to get green quarters for me, that’s why Daddy at work”

Fefe:  “Yes baby, you’re right.  That’s exactly why Daddy’s at work”

If you don’t speak toddler, that gibberish may not make a lot of sense to you, what Tre was trying to say is that Daddy goes to work to get quarters so that he can buy green gumballs.  How green gumballs became green quarters, I have no clue.  Quite frankly, I’m a little disturbed by the fact that I’m actually able to translate such things.  Maybe Tre has been watching “The Wire” and has learned to speak in code better than we have. 

I’m not sure how this kid already knows to associate me going to work with money, but somehow he has learned a basic understanding of the way the world works.  However flawed his understanding may be, the concept has been instilled in him.  The more I thought about it, the more it made me smile.  At two years old, the little guy has learned that his Daddy must leave him every day for several hours and go to “work” to bring home quarters to buy gumballs with.  It’s still taking a little bit of time to get use to the fact that my son is willing to pimp me out for 8-10hrs a day to receive a lousy quarter.  But you see, that’s really the beauty of it all.  At his age, a quarter is all he needs to satisfy his wants and the fact that Daddy has to work all day to get that quarter is acceptable because it’s what’s important to him at this point in time.  As he grows older, what’s important will change and become more complicated; with that change comes stress, worries, and disappointments.  So I hope he holds onto this simplistic outlook on life for as long as he can.  As long as he does, I’ll be happy to slave the day away for quarters to make my little guy happy.

I’ve learned something from this encounter with Tre.  When the weight of the world is on your shoulders, and things are becoming too much to handle, just think back to when times were a lot simpler, when your biggest worry was getting a quarter for the gumball machine.  Something that seems so trivial now, was actually very important to you way back then, and you somehow found a way to carry on, whether you got that quarter or not.  So while your current troubles may seem enormous to you now, in the future you may look back on them as being nothing more than a quarter in the gumball machine.

Yesterday was a day filled with many different emotions for me.  Who knew one simple event could create such a range of feelings in one individual.  Throughout the workday, anticipation built up to an all time high.  After work, knowing that this outing was growing ever closer, eagerness began to creep in.  During the short drive to our destination, eagerness turned to excitement; once we arrived I was in total bliss giddy as a school girl.  Shortly after however, things went really bad, really quick.  I’m talking stage diving and no one catches you bad.  It didn’t take long for me to realize that I had made a huge mistake.

When I read that previous paragraph, I thought to myself, “wow, was I about to pick up my Powerball winnings or possibly on the way to meet my favorite celebrity?” Then I snapped back and remembered exactly what event caused such a myriad of emotions and I hung my head slightly lower in shame.  In shame because a simple trip to the Drive-In theater should not be able to induce an entire rainbow of feelings in a grown man.  But you know what, I’m lifting my head up because I’m proud that the nostalgia of the Drive-In Theater hasn’t abandoned me.  It holds a special place in my heart, rooted in childhood and yesterday I was prepared to share that with my family for the first time.

Both of the boys were excited about our forthcoming adventure yesterday, although neither of them fully understood the magnitude of journey that we were about to embark on.  Tre was just excited to be leaving the house in his pajamas.  To him I believe the world as he knew it ceased to exist for a moment.  The excitement in his face when he finally realized that he was putting his pajamas on not to go to bed, but in fact to actually “go bye-bye” was priceless.  Ty on the other hand just could not grasp the concept of going to the movies, but staying in the car.  His expressions were those of someone utterly confused while being wildly excited at the same time.  Again, priceless.  These priceless moments all fed into my excitement that YES this is happening; my family is going to the drive in, as I had done so many times as a child.

Once we arrived, we lucked up and found a spot in the front row, dead center.  It was as if the stars were all aligned and the hands of fate were on our payroll.  Things were definitely different than the Drive-In back home, but hey it was still a Drive-In so no worries.  No worries, until we were told that since this was a “car optional” Drive-In and people mainly come to sit on the lawn and listen to the movie through the portable speakers next to the screen that we couldn’t have the car turned on.  No ignition means no AC and no AC in hot, humid, muggy weather means decreased excitement, increased attitude.  Nonetheless, we carried on and tried to enjoy the movie.

Then another unanticipated issue came up.  Tre’s bedtime is typically 7:30-8pm, the movie didn’t start until around 8:15.  Do you see where this is going?  When Tre is sleepy, Tre chooses one of three personas to assume: silly, cranky, or restless.  Well last night, for some odd reason, perhaps to mock me, he decided to pick all three.  He was constantly getting into things, constantly getting in trouble and constantly getting put into time out.  Don’t ask me how it’s possible to put a toddler in time out while trapped inside a 4 person car; just know that it can be done.  There were two main incidents that made me conclude, the Drive-In just isn’t for us.  Well at least not for the remainder of this summer. 

Incident #1: Tre decides that he is royalty and his fans need to see him, he needed to be one with the people.  So he decides to climb on my shoulder and stick his head out of the sunroof.  We thought it was cute, snapping pictures and laughing, until he decided to address his unsuspecting “followers”.  He started talking to people who were trying to enjoy the movie.  One person walking towards the concession stand was promptly told to go sit down by Tre, ruler of all that is to be ruled.  I swear the guy paused for a minute and actually considered returning to his blanket.  After a few brief conversations, we pulled him back into the car and you would have thought we were torturing this kid the way he cried and screamed to get back to the sunroof.

Incident #2:  After coming out of time out for the umpteenth time, I decided to let Tre sit up in the front with me to get a better view of the screen and hopefully hold his attention so that he wouldn’t continue to create mayhem.  What in the world was I thinking?  I’ve made some pretty dumb decisions throughout my lifetime, and I’m pretty sure that this one falls somewhere in the top 5.  As soon as he gets in the front, the kid instantly turns into Mario Andretti and acts as if he had mysteriously been teleported directly into the last lap of the Indy 500.  That’s when it happened, in one fell swoop, the boy put my car’s horn in a death grip.  I mean he really laid into that thing, I’m talking just got cut off on the highway, had to slam on your breaks, spilled your coffee on a white shirt while heading to an interview horn blow.  There were people sitting directly in front of our car, particularly a little old lady with her grandchildren.  The way this lady jumped out of her folding chair made me wish that I could die for her, because surely the only thing could follow a scare like that was a heart attack. 

After receiving death stares from more than a handful of people, I knew that my dream had become a nightmare and it was time to go.  As we drove away, a single tear dropped from my eye, because on that night, my childhood memories of family night at the Drive-In died a short, but painful death.

This Has Got To Stop

Last night I tweeted a tweet that went a little something like this: “Silly Bandz are ruining the world, yes the world! The children are the future and Silly Bandz are corrupting them, therefore the world is doomed!”  I meant every word of that statement and I stand by it.  The things I’ve seen in association with these simple rubber bands have been enough to make a sane man check himself into Bellevue and never come out.  You want to know why the Swine Flu pandemic never happened, well it’s because the Bandz pandemic took over first.  I’ve seen frightening things people, and in an effort to educate you on the fight against Silly Bandz, I will share those memories that I fought so hard to repress, putting myself through pain and anguish all for the greater good of mankind.

These things come in different shapes and colors, THAT’S IT. They don’t do anything special, don’t make cool sounds, nothing, just different shapes and colors.  You would think with all of the technology floating around, our children would demand more from their newest fad, but they don’t. Silly Bandz are simple and they love them. Kids don’t even go outside to play anymore; they go outside to trade these stupid things.  Apparently, trading is a skilled art form that takes precision and accuracy to complete so there isn’t time for outrageous activities such as hide & seek, or tag.  One day, Ty was outside “playing” with his friends for at least 2 hours.  I checked on them periodically and I witnessed no playing at all.  They were just sitting on the ground talking, shuffling these rubber bands around amongst each other. When Ty came in, I asked why him and his friends weren’t playing. His response: “Oh we were playing, see look, I made some good trades. Look at this pig I got and oooohhhh check out this, ummm <blank stare> ummm, well I don’t know what it is, but it’s cool huh”.  All I could do was shake my head and look to Tre as our only hope.  Ty was too far gone, he couldn’t be saved, could no longer be trusted, he’d steal from his momma to get his hands on more Silly Bandz, he had become infected. 

The Infection Is Spreading

But not Tre, he was still pure, seemingly immune to the effects of this horrid disease.  But as with any pandemic, the strong can only hold out for so long. A few days ago, Ty purchased a new pack of Silly Bandz and was gracious enough to share 2 with his little brother.  Well gracious is a bit of an overstatement, it should really be replaced with FORCED.  This kid honestly didn’t want to give up those 2 Silly Bandz and for the life of me I couldn’t understand why.  I mean, he had about 70 split up between his wrists and just got a new pack of 24, so what’s the harm in giving up two of them? Maybe he was trying to protect Tre, trying to ensure that he wouldn’t make the same mistakes and walk to dangerous path that Ty had travelled down. Whatever his reasoning, it didn’t work.  Just that small sample was enough to infect Tre.  When this disease hits, it hits hard and fast.  Within two days Tre and his 2 Silly Bandz were inseparable. 

Last night during bedtime, Tre kept whining about his Silly Bandz, saying that he lost them.  After the fourth trip upstairs to find his lost possessions (which were always located right next to him in the bed), I said enough was enough.  I told him I was going to put them on the dresser so that he wouldn’t lose them and that right there was the biggest mistake of my life.  This boy cried like I had never seen him cry before, constantly repeating “I need Silly Bandz” in a tear-filled shivering tone. It was nearly unbearable; I couldn’t stand to watch how this disease affected him. So I gave them back and realized that I had now lost 2 sons to this wretched infection.

Based on what I’ve witnessed over the past few months, with last night being the icing on the cake; I now know that something must be done about this issue. Someone must take a stand and save our youth.  I’m planning a march on Washington to propose that our government fund a “FIGHT THE BANDZ” campaign. It’s going to have a really cool acronym like D.A.R.E. did with their drug campaign and together we are going to fight this epidemic and take our children back! Are you with me people???

Breakfast Time With Tre

The past week or so has been very very interesting. We’ve somehow, inherited a third child. This new kid was thrust upon us and for the time being, we have no way of sending him back. I mean don’t get me wrong, I’m all about helping out wayward children and all, but this is going a bit too far. To be fair, the new child isn’t high maintenance. I guess where he comes from, they’re not use to eating very often, so he barely ever bothers us for food. He also came with his own clothes. So really, the only basic need that we are providing to him is shelter. Even though it isn’t a huge burden playing surrogate to this little guy, it still isn’t fair to my wife and I. Call me evil, mean spirited, or what have you; but bottom line is, this kid needs to go.

Okay, now that you’ve all finished sending your hate mail, let me admit that the new kid actually isn’t a kid at all. He’s a stuffed animal, Mickey Mouse to be exact. But recently, Mickey has taken on the persona of a human child and has become Tre’s numero uno. They are inseparable, and while it may be cute and entertaining to outsiders, it is creating a mountain of extra work for Fefe & I. Most kids sleep with their stuffed animals at night and then when they wake up, they go their separate ways. Not Tre!!! Where he goes, Mickey goes, and most recently it has changed into what Tre does, Mickey does. You may be saying, “Come on Keith, how bad can it be?” Well let me tell ya, it’s bad!!!

Exhibit A: Yesterday, when it was time for Tre to eat breakfast, Mickey needed breakfast as well. I don’t know if you can tell from the picture above, but Mickey has 1 “red berry” (a grape) in front of him. Tre would eat some of his cereal, and then take a break to ensure Mickey “ate” his breakfast as well. This consisted of Tre taking the grape and putting it up to Mickey’s mouth while telling him to eat his food. Mickey would then proceed to “eat” the grape, which was demonstrated by the chewing noises that Tre made for him. Afterwards, Tre would then pop the grape into his mouth and tell Mickey he did a good job. Okay, not so bad you say? Similar to a tea party, huh? Sure, I’ll give you that; well let’s just continue on to exhibit B.

Exhibit B: Since Mickey is now eating food, naturally his body needs to remove the waste right? Yup, Mickey must also go to the bathroom now. Whenever Tre uses the bathroom, Mickey is right along with him. Tre goes first and pee pee’s in the potty, after he’s done, he holds Mickey up to the toilet and lets him do his business. But get this, they need separate flushes. I guess it would just be too unsanitary for Mickey to pee in the same water that Tre used. But it doesn’t stop there, no no no, there’s more. Mickey also gets to wear big boy underwear and at night requires a pull up. Tre seriously refused to put a pull up on at night while Mickey was still wearing big boy underwear. No way was the stuffed animal going to outshine him.

Exhibit C: They have fights, arguments, and fall outs. As I’m writing this post, I sent Fefe a text and asked her to take a pic of Tre & Mickey. Her response: “I’ll try, they’re mad at each other right now” WTF, what can they possibly be mad at each other about? It’s a stuffed animal, what can it do to piss you off? Yesterday we were in Target and they had a fight. All we heard was NO MICKEY, and then the bear went sailing clear across 2 aisles. They didn’t “speak” to each other for at least an hour after that

As you can see from the evidence presented above, Mickey is causing extra work for us. We feed Mickey, clothe him, and speak for him. It’s just too much to handle with two real rugrats to deal with. It’s sad to say, but in the end, I feel that I am to blame. Unfortunately my childhood is coming back to haunt my children. When I was young, I too had a “Mickey”, his true name is not allowed to be mentioned. I took him everywhere and did everything with him and quite honestly was a lot worse than Tre. My situation was bordered on dementia. I didn’t give up my “friend” until 7th grade if I’m not mistaken; he was badly tattered and worn. A tear is forming as I write this, but it was for the best to let him go. Hopefully we can break the cycle with Tre, stop it before it gets too bad. End it before he’s 20 something years old, bringing home his future wife to meet Fefe and she goes into the closet and shows an old raggedy Mickey Mouse bear.

YES, my mom actually did that. She showed my old buddy to Fefe the first time I brought her home, and the woman still married me. That’s love right there.

Best Buds Forever (hopefully not)

Disclaimer: This post was suppose to be all about summer activities, but then a memory struck me and the entire post shifted.  Sorry, read on and you’ll see it was a good shift.

Summer is nearly half way over and I’m left wondering where the time went.  It seriously doesn’t seem like the middle of July is here already.  But then I look back and realize that the reason summer is passing me by is because of all these gosh darn activities that we’ve been involved with for the kids.  This year, some dummy (me) was looking through the activity catalog and make the bright decision to sign them up for everything. When I say everything, I really mean just about EVERYTHING. We had basketball, T-ball, swimming, karate, soccer, gymnastics, art, and music classes.  It’s been a lot of fun and the kids really enjoy being involved in so many different things, but secretly, I must say that I’m happy we’ve reached the midway point and it’s almost over.

I have to say that so far, T-ball has been my favorite activity of the bunch.  There’s just something about watching a bunch of 2 year olds attempt to play the sport of mini-baseball.  It’s honestly hilarious, and I’d recommend it as therapy to anyone having bad day.  At this age, I think the parents are the ones who get the most out of an activity like this.  The kids just enjoy the freedom of running around, they could care less about throwing a ball or running the bases, all they really want to do is RUN.  Tre never did fully grasp the concept of tagging a person out, but by the end of the “season” he did eventually master running the bases by himself and for that he gets two thumbs up!

Oh man, that statement has just caused me to go on a total tangent.  Sorry if you’re really into the activities stuff right now, but we’re switching gears for a moment.  Did you know that people don’t instinctively know how to give a thumbs up? ME EITHER! Not until Tre’s T-ball class, at the end of class everyone huddled up and was suppose to put their thumbs in to do a celebratory cheer.  Well low & behold, the toddlers were all baffled.  Some of them were sticking their index finger in the pile, others just putting entire fists in there.  One thing was for sure, there was an excessive absence of tiny thumbs present for our cheer.  After witnessing this travesty, I was utterly appalled, how could I have missed this? My son, my flesh and blood was currently incapable of giving a thumbs up. How could this be; if he can’t give a thumbs up, he most certainly can’t pull of the much more complicated “wink and a gun”, and if he can’t do that, how in the world will he be able to impress hot chics?  This was a truly shocking and upsetting moment, but after I regained consciousness and realized that all was not loss, that there was still time to save him; I got to work and prepared for a long and grueling training session to whip my boy into shape (queue up Rocky Theme Music).

I had a long road ahead of me, after hours and hours of extensive research, I discovered that separating the thumb from the other four fingers and using it independently wasn’t a natural instinct, but indeed something that could be taught.  Ah ha, the glimmer of hope that I needed, let the training begin!  We performed hours upon hours (okay, minutes upon minutes) of hardcore thumb pumping drills.  I’d do quick thumbs up, slow thumbs up, even two thumbs up, but his thumbs were never at that oh so desirable 90 degree angle.  Ready to throw in the towel, head hanging low, I took one last look at my boy and saw a montage of how pitiful his life was going to be, now that he had failed thumbs up boot camp.  Just then, as if to say, “Don’t you give up on me yet Dad” his little pint sized hand slowly started to rise! Higher, and higher it went, all the while, his thumb emerging from his little fist until finally it happened, a full 90 degree thumbs up!

Ha Ha, take that! We had done it, together, we had achieved greatness and I couldn’t wait until the next class to show off Tre’s talents.  During that class, I wasn’t focused at all, totally missing ground balls, striking out at bat, but none of that mattered, because at the end of class, we would be shining, we would show those 2 year olds the best thumbs up in the world.  Then it happened, class was finally over, it was time to huddle up and grab the glory.  Coach instructed everyone to put their thumbs in for a cheer and dammit, wouldn’t you know almost every darn kid there had a thumb poking out. Then I look at Tre and he’s standing there index finger stretched as far as can be, still with the look of greatness on his face that we had prepared for.  All I could do was laugh, and hold my head high as I died a small death on the inside due to my foolishness.  He tried and whether it’s sports, or thumbs up, that’s all that matters and I’ll always be proud of him.

Oh yeah, by the way, the title was reflected at my stupidity. In case you missed that.

Tre is all grown up now!!!

Have you ever had baby balls dangling in your face? No? Well you’ve never attempted to potty train a little boy.  Let me tell you right now, it’s not a pleasant experience. The booty and balls of a two year old are not two things that I want to be up close and personal with; but in the end, it all paid off.  If any of you have read my tweets, or Facebook statuses over the past few days, you’ll know that we’ve been potty training Tre with great success recently.  It’s been a long & tough road, but we now see light at the end of the tunnel and I’ll share with you my 100% guaranteed fools proof plan to potty train your child in 2 days flat!

Okay, it’s not fools proof, it’s not even 100% guaranteed, hell, it may not even work, but it’s worth a try right, lol.  Let me start by saying it’s all about waiting until the child is ready, you can’t force it on them, they just have to want to learn it.  Tre is 2.5 years old and he finally decided that it was his time to learn.  You always hear people touting, “my child was potty trained at 18 months, blah blah blah” so what, who cares, I can’t stand it! When your kid turns 30 and still doesn’t have a pot to piss in, that little achievement at 18 months really won’t matter will it! Ah who am I kidding, if Tre learned to go at a young age like that, I’d be the same exact way, probably worse, you guys wouldn’t hear the end of it. Hypocrite, yes. Ashamed, NO.  Nonetheless, I’m super stoked that he’s learning to go potty, and doing such a great job at it.  But it wasn’t always roses and sunshine, in the beginning, it was more like hot garbage and thunderstorms.  In other words, it stunk and you couldn’t avoid getting wet.

Yeah that’s right, I’ve been peed on, I’ve had stink (our word for fecal matter) stains smeared on my clothes. I’m a Dad and it’s all part of the process, I’m proud of it!  But once Tre got older and we attempted potty training on numerous occasions, it wasn’t so much getting hit with his body fluids any more, but more so just his body.  We’d take his diaper off and let him run free, unfortunately, Tre doesn’t understand the rules of common decency.  He didn’t care that he was naked, if he wanted to jump on Daddy’s back, then Daddy better be prepared to palm a little booty.  He’d do things like climb on my shoulder and jump off onto the couch.  Do you have any idea how difficult it is to watch SportsCenter with baby balls dangling in your face? I couldn’t tell if Lebron was holding a basketball during that press conference, or if Tre’s family jewels just had perfect alignment with the TV screen.

The first few times we took the diaper off, it went a lot like this: Tre would do a short Indian rain dance indicating that he needed to go, we’d rush him to the toilet only for him to run away to his pile of diapers and point to them screaming that he needs a diaper.  Remember we’re talking about a two year old here, bladder control isn’t one of their strong suits, so after all of this commotion, you’ve probably already guessed that we had a small spill to clean up. Do you have any idea how low it makes a person feel to endure a naked lap dance from their child, only to then be forced to clean up pee from the carpet? Once we finally got him to sit on the toilet, it surely didn’t last long. He’d spend about 10 seconds there and then HE would say: “good try, time to flush”. At least he felt he had made a good attempt, but I suspect it was all a ploy to try and flush the toilet.

I know you’re probably thinking, “Keith, you said this was a success story, where the hell is the success?” You’re absolutely right; I’m getting to the success part, but it happened so quickly that I wouldn’t have had much of a story if I jumped straight to it. This past Sunday, I decided enough was enough; I wanted to liberate myself and become balls free.  So I took the diaper off and proceeded to usher Tre off to the toilet every 10 minutes to see if he would go.  This was very disappointing at first, he just wouldn’t go and I running out of Lysol to decontaminate all of the objects his naked body had come in contact with.  Then suddenly a light bulb must have went off in his head, because after 2hrs of failures at 10 minute intervals, he said “Daddy, I have to pee pee.” I humored him, and took him back to the bathroom again; I knew he wasn’t going to go, but it was worth a try.  Just as I expected, he didn’t go, so I went instead.  He told me I did a good job and left the bathroom (isn’t that backwards).  Then 30 seconds after that he ran back into the bathroom with the speed of a lightning bolt.  I had no idea what was going on, so I just followed behind him, next thing you know, he’s peeing in the toilet!!!! I got so excited, that I think I scared him with all the clapping and cheering; he only got out 6 drops.  Those were the most important 6 drops of both of our lives, he had done it and it was time to celebrate.

I think that we may have celebrated a bit too hard though.  No lie, Tre went to pee in the potty at least 20 times in a few hours.  Each time just pumping out a few drops, enough to keep the party going and keep the praise coming.  Eventually, he started holding it longer each time and started making full fledged bathroom trips.  I’m so proud of the little guy and look forward to helping him continue his progression.

Hi, my name is Tre & I’m addicted to Hip Hop Harry. Those are the words that I’m so desperately waiting to hear my son utter. But you can’t force an addict to admit they have a problem, the healing can only come from within. Which is one of the reasons why it’s so difficult to be the parent of a toddler who has a media abuse issue. You try your best to avoid being an enabler, but when you hear that little 2 yr old voice crying out for Hip Hop Harry over & over, it just gets to you and you break down. The next thing you know, you cave in and willingly give in to their next fix.

It started out all so simply, those many many months ago. Flicking through the channels while the kids were away, I stumbled across a program that had children competing in a dance competition with a big fluffy bear as the judge (see video below). The kids were very talented in their dance moves and I ended up watching for about 10 mins. Then I thought to myself, hey this would be a good show for Ty, I pressed record and have been regretting that day ever since.

Ty watched the show a few times and quickly got bored, but an unanticipated side effect was Tre’s infatuation and complete concentration on Harry and his antics. His previous addiction to Mickey Mouse could never hold his attention for more than 5 mins at a time, but this new high he was receiving from Hip Hop Harry was much more potent and he wouldn’t budge from beginning to end of each episode.

Soon after, the obvious signs of an addict began to show loud and clear. One “hit” wasn’t good enough anymore, he’d need 2 or more episodes to satisfy his desires. Then Tre started imitating the dance moves and singing all of the songs that the children on the show would perform. Have you ever seen a 2 year old attempt “pop n lock” dancing? It’s both wildly amusing and slightly frightening at the same time. Soon after that, things took a turn for the worse. Hip Hop Harry needed to be on at all times, even when we weren’t near a TV. It got so bad that the boy actually screamed for Hip Hop Harry while we were at the swimming pool and refused to get in the water because he wanted Harry. There are certain episodes that he has memorized and requests them by name, all hell breaks loose if a specific episode was accidentally deleted.

After carefully looking over all of the facts and reviewing Tre’s actions over the past few months since Hip Hop Harry had been brought into his life, we knew something needed to be done. If left to his own devices, we’d have a preschool drop out on our hands and we’d be filming an after school special about how this show has ruined our toddlers’ chances at being a productive member of society. The only problem is, we didn’t know what to do; there were no Hip Hop Harry anonymous meetings to take him to, or no get help now groups that could offer assistance with his specific addiction. So we struggled along, using whatever means at our disposal to help him kick this addiction, but they were all in vein. No matter what we tried (distractions, other shows, no TV at all) we still constantly heard those fateful words: “I want Harry”. After exhausting all possible options, we just gave up. I know, I failed as a father, but there’s only so much one parent can take.

We let the Harry abuse continue in a controlled environment for quite some time and I’m now happy to report that it appears Tre has kicked his addiction all on his own. He hasn’t requested Hip Hop Harry in almost 3 weeks, he just stopped cold turkey. I don’t know what caused it, or who to thank, but I’m surely appreciative. I’m not sure what I would have done if I had to endure one more “I love to learn” song. Hopefully he will remain committed to staying clean, but we know relapses are a common occurrence in this arena and are preparing to support Tre through his struggles.

Hi, my name is Tre and it’s been 21 days since my last Hip Hop Harry binge.

Be sure to check out Tre’s Thursday Toy Review and our BRAND NEW Facebook Fan Page!!! Please join, if you enjoy Daddy’s Fish Bowl

Happy Father’s Day everyone! Man it feels great celebrating the thing that means most to me in this world, fatherhood.  What better way to start off such as great day than telling you guys a wacky tale about one of my kids? Well here ya go, enjoy!

So summer is officially here! Yayyyy, pull out the sunglasses, sun screen, and swimming trunks.  For the most part, the summertime offers a welcome change of pace to standard activities and routines, but for us, it has offered an unexpected and unwelcomed consequence. Most families are typically excited about this time of year and are making plans for various activities.  Well our family is making plans, but instead of beach outings and day trips, we’re planning toddler disaster relieve tactics and beefing up our temper tantrum diversion techniques.  You may be saying to yourself: “kids love summer, what problems could you possibly have because of the summertime?”  Well let me tell you, when you’re dealing with a Terrorist Two’s all-star such as Tre (Shoutout to @Tdubb28), the simplest action can turn life into a nightmare that lasts an entire season.  ***sidebar: notice I did not use the term terrible two’s, no Tre has transcended typical two year old antics and as if he was playing Modern Warefare 2 has been promoted to rank of Terrorist!*** That action was  as I stated a VERY simple one, all we did was open his window one day.  Little did we know, the act of opening his window would end up haunting us for many nights… and mornings… and now that I think of it afternoons too.

It all started about a month ago, you know the time period when it’s warm enough to open the windows, but the temperature hasn’t quite reached a point where the AC is necessary?  Well that’s when this tale begins.  One day Fefe opened all of the windows in the house to let the cool breeze flow in, when it was time for Tre’s nap neither of us thought anything of it that his window was still open, BIG MISTAKE.  I still have hellish dreams of that day up until this very point.  Needless to say, Tre didn’t take a nap that day.  He was too busy looking out the window and talking to inanimate objects. Every so often we’d hear things in the monitor such as: “Bye Bye birdie, awwwk awwwk” (Tre’s bird impersonation) or “ooooh big read truck, drive truck”.  We didn’t think much of it, maybe he wasn’t tired that day, or something along those lines.  Well it wasn’t until bedtime that we realized this was going to be a HUGE issue.

Bedtime rolls around and we perform our typical nightly ritual which consists of: story time, a glass of milk, and saying goodnight to all the stuffed animals.  As soon as we head downstairs to enjoy our kid free zone, we hear screaming and hollering in the monitor and promptly rush upstairs.  When I get there, Tre is sitting in his bed screaming “I WANT” while pointing at his window.  I couldn’t for the life of me figure out what he wanted, so I called in the expert, Fefe.  She quickly surveyed the situation and used her deductive powers to determine that he wanted his window up.  Again, totally oblivious to how serious this issue would be, I chalked it up to his room being warm and we wanted some fresh air in order to go to sleep. No harm done,  window open, good night!

Well I should have adopted our country’s “we don’t negotiate with terrorist” policy and taken a stand that very first day.  As you all know, terrorists don’t back down easily and once those warm days turned to cool ones, and it was necessary to close the windows, we were met with fierce opposition.  If that window wasn’t up, our house turned into tantrum town and I chose deception as my tactic to deal with it.  I figured, I’ll let him think he’s winning, I’ll open the window and when he falls asleep I’ll just come in here and close it.  Yeah, well that wasn’t such a bright idea, especially when at 2:30am all you hear is a constant tune consisting of three words “Daddy, window up”.  For the most part, the close it after he’s sleep method will get us through the night and he’ll demand his window to be opened first thing in the morning, but those few midnight awakenings make me wish his room never had a window.

He’d typically spend 5-10 mins looking out the window and talking to birds and trees before laying down and going to sleep.  That is until the unthinkable happened, someone actually responded to him.  Our neighbor was leaving and he was in the window and spotted her.  I heard him say “get in your car and go bye bye” through the monitor; I heard a muffled response from outside our door and then heard an explosive laugh from Tre, followed by 90 seconds of giddy gibberish.  He didn’t go to sleep for at least 2 hours after she pulled off.  Now, thanks to that encounter, he spends up to an hour in his window before bed, waiting and hoping to spot someone to talk to.  So people, I implore you, if you’re walking down the street and see a little child in their window attempting to talk to you, just ignore them.  Please, for their parent’s sanity, just walk on by!!!!

I think we’ve learned to live with the way things are for now, other than the high electricity bills (AC on, open window), but I’m totally afraid of what to expect when fall approaches.  Hopefully he’ll be a bit older and understand the concept of freezing to death, but I’m not to confident that it will even matter.

Hello all, in the spirit of Black Friday coming up, this weeks posts will be dedicated to holiday gift guides.  There will be a separate guide for toddlers, preschoolers, and a combined guide for husbands and wives.  The gift guides will feature some items that the boys already own, as well as items that we plan to purchase for them this Christmas.  The items are in no special order, they are all gifts that I find interesting and think the kids will enjoy playing with.  Please feel free to add items to the list in the comment section, or if you already own a particular item, share your experience with it.  I hope you enjoy, talk to you soon.

Fisher-Price Handy Manny’s Repair Shop - What boy doesn’t want a cool tool bench? With all the included tools and sounds, your child will be repairing things (or making them worse) just like Dad does  

Mega Bloks Build ‘n Go Table - Building blocks is a favorite past time for any child, with this table the toddlers creativity and projects can soar to new heights  

Imaginarium Giant Bead Maze Cube - You usually see these at doctors offices and day care centers, but one thing I’ve always noticed is that they can hold a childs attention for a very long time.  I don’t know what it is about this toy, but kids love it.  

Baby Farm Friends Bowling - Bowling is fun for kids of all ages, this set includes different farm animals which toddlers also enjoy learning about    

Fisher-Price Mickey Mouse’s Magic Choo Choo Train Set - Train sets are awesome, but for a toddler, they may be a bit complex.  Mickey comes in to solve that issue with the magic choo choo train which lays its own tracks.  Sounds like a winner to me.  

Vtech Jungle Gym Ride and Learn Giraffe Bike - So maybe your little one isn’t quite ready for a real bike yet, but this stationary one is sure to put them on the right track.  Throw in some simple learning games for them to do while peddling and you’ve got a winner.  

Fisher-Price The Original Tickle Me Elmo - Kids love Elmo, do I have to say any more?  

Elefun – The Butterfly Catchin’ Game - I think this one may be a tad bit out of a young toddlers age group, but can definitely see them growing into it quickly. I can imagine this game providing tons of exercise and entertainment.  

Tonka Toughest Mighty Dump Truck - Construction vehicles always excite children, I don’t know if it’s their large size, the noises they make, or the activities they perform, whatever the case, kids love them so they’ll love replicating their actions at home.  

Playskool Tonka Bounce Back Racer - Ah, the first remote control car.  This one looks simple enough to control and have some fun with.  At this age, we can’t give them the keys to the car just yet, so why not settle for the next best thing