House of Cards

So, back to renovations.

I forget where we were last I spoke of them. But currently underway is the bedroom/laundry room downstairs. The rec room is on hold pending flooring funding. And, with Neomom taking a few days off, we attacked the bedroom yesterday. Tore out studs, pulled out wiring . . . all that good stuff. Sure, half of the downstairs is dark right now, but it won't be long because we're putting in a concentrated effort to complete this area.

At least we were.

Another area in need of some work is the upstairs bathroom. But that's on the back burner because it just doesn't seem critical.

At least it didn't.

Yeah, after making a fine start to the downstairs demolition, we returned home last night to find the upstairs toilet was leaking a little. And thus, the house of cards that is renovations, has shifted.

You see, I think all the toilet upstairs needs is a new wax ring. But it also needs a new floor (always has, nothing to do with the leak). So, why take up the toilet and NOT put in the new floor. Oh, and the countertop on the vanity needs replacing as well. So, if we're taking up the toilet, we might as well do the floor. And if we're doing the floor, we'll have to move the vanity. And if we have to move the vanity, we might as well replace the countertop. And the green grass grew all around, all around and the green grass grew all around.

This is the renovation house of cards. I learned about it shortly after I bought my first home. 

Again, it was a bathroom. And the tub needed recaulking. So, I ripped out the old caulking and thought, you know, this needs a new tub-surround. So I took it to the next level and began prepping for the tub-surround. I then learned that the drywall around the tub area needed updating. One thing led to another, and soon I was pulling off the baseboard behind the toilet. The hammer slipped and shattered the toilet base. 

Before I knew it, a simple caulking job became a complete bathroom renovation - new toilet, new vanity, new sink, new tub surround and the green grass grew all around, all around and the green grass grew all around.

I'm hoping . . . and praying, that I can end this one with JUST a new floor, wax ring and countertop.

Will let you know.

Have a better Thursday than I will.

Accepted!

I'd read about it . . . and I found it hard to believe. I'd never experienced it, but the other Stay-at-Home-Dads shared their stories and swore it was true. They had been rejected, told they weren't welcome, at Mommy and Me groups.

Sad, in this day and age, that such discrimination still exists. Sexism, running unchecked in church basements and community centres.

I found it so hard to believe, until it happened to me.

It was about three years ago. I'd been an RCMP spouse for about 8 years when I discovered a Facebook page for us; for RCMP spouses to talk, share, commiserate and celebrate the life we all lead.

And yeah, I applied for membership. And I was rejected. So I wrote about it here.

Fast forward to a few weeks ago. A comment on the "Rejected" blog post. From another RCMP spouse, an admin on another RCMP spouse Facebook page. And she was inviting me to join. INVITING me! 

So I did. And now I'm one of us. Thanks Sandy!

So let's see, what else? Animal butt magnets . . . still cracking me up!

Oh yeah, and while we're talking about sexist behaviour . . .

A quick review of "Mom's Ultimate Magnetic Family Fridge Calendar 2012."

First off, bought this one cause I didn't see "Dad's Ultimate Magnetic Family Fridge Calendar 2012." Mostly because there wasn't one. 

Second, mine didn't have the stickers in it. Don't know who to blame for that one. Walmart? Manufacturer? Who knows, but it had no stickers. And I like stickers with my calendar.

Third, the "magnetic" part failed. It fell off. I had to Superglue it back on. Bad, bad, bad.

You'll have to wait until next year for the full review of "2013 Family Calendar," but I will say it's wording is gender neutral and it has all of the promised stickers. It's up two points already.

Have a great Hump Day!

Nature or Nurture?

So, in an effort to make life more "interesting," we've made a few additions to the family. Namely, Paws and Puffy. Two more cats.

That makes one dog, two kids and three cats.

Yeah, call me crazy. Shouldn't have had kids.

Just kidding . . . most days.

Paws arrived first. Not sure why we decided to get one. It may be just because the elder feline statesman, Oliver, needed a friend. It may be because the kids needed another toy. It could be my head isn't screwed on just right. It could be, perhaps, that my shoes are too tight. But whatever the reason, my head or my shoes, I stand here each day

Anyhoo, he was cute and he was free. So we got him.

Then, for reasons beyond my comprehension, we decided to get another. He too was cute and free.

Now, these two little guys have re-ignited in my brain the old nurture-vs.-nature debate.

I've always favoured short-hair cats. They not only minimize the shed factor and the fun of cleaning up hairballs, but I think they're smarter and nicer. And I've found this (especially the smarter part) to be the case with Paws (short hair) and Puffy (the puffy one).

But there is a nurture factor I can't ignore.

Paws came from a regular home. Puffy came from a, well, how to put this? He came from a mellow home. His human parents, um, er, uh, oh hell . . . they smoked a lot of weed. And I'm beginning to think ol' Puffy got his head stuck inside a bong at a very young age.

He falls down a lot.

When Paws discovered we had two active children, he quickly decided that the best place to sleep was behind the couch. When Puffy gets sleepy, he falls over wherever he is and passes out.

Paws strikes at his toys with the precision and skill of a practised mouser.

Puffy misses often. It's like he's seeing three of them, and hasn't figured out that you aim for the middle one. He also fights with unseen objects fairly regularly.

When Paws sees the boys coming, he moves quickly and with great stealth.

Puffy lies there and allows himself to be "steamrolled" by Sontoo. And he falls down a lot.

Paws is aware of his surroundings.

Puffy often gets his head caught in closing doors, reclining chairs, stair balusters and chair railings.

So I don't know. Nature or nurture? Is it the paws, or is it the puff?

Change . . .

Kindergarten has apparently changed quite a bit in the last 30 to 40 years. Yeah, I know, big surprise.

But I didn't think it had changed quite this much.

Got the list of school supplies Sonwun will need when he begins his academic career this fall. And yeah, some of it I expected. Some was a bit of a shock.

For example:
4 large glue sticks - Okay, makes sense. Of course when I went, we used that white glue, in jars, with brushes. I seem to recall it smelled like peppermint. And that one kid in every class, the "glue eater," said it tasted like peppermint too.

1 Large bottle of mucilage glue - is this the peppermint stuff? Never heard of mucilage glue. Must look that up on line . . . oh, cool. That's that translucent brown stuff with the rubber top. I remember that stuff. Some things never change I guess.

2 Boxes of Kleenex - Didn't have to bring that when I was a kid. But I guess the school boards don't pay for everything these days. Fair enough.

2 Boxes of Crayola Crayons (8 colours) - Um, okay. Again, that stuff was supplied when I went, but, whatever.

1 pkg washable markers - See above. And while we're at it, I'll include the "1 Pair of Strong Scissors" in the same category.

Okay, so that's a lot of the stuff I kind of expected to be buying. But . . .

4 Regular Duotangs
1 3-ring Binder
1 Notebook - half lines, half blank
2 two-pocket Duotangs for reading logs
1 Scrapbook, 30 sheets with coil binding
1 Copy Plato's Republic

Okay, I made up the last one. But seriously, how much research and report-writing are these kids going to be doing that they need Duotangs and Binders?? Or are these supplies for the teacher? I almost hope so.

I can't imagine a room full of 5-year-olds playing with three-ring binders. Unless they've changed the design over the last couple of decades, I seem to recall these things can be real finger pinchers . . . even in high school.

And Duotangs? Really? I hated those things. How long is it going to take a 5-year-old to undo one, load paper and re-close?

Seriously, I have no idea why they need these things, but I'm trying to keep an open mind; wait and see.

And ya know, having read the news daily over the last few decades, I was surprised at some of the items that are missing from the list. I mean, I was kind of expecting to see "Anatomically Correct Dolls, Male and Female" for the sex ed class.
1 Copy of "Miss Vera's Finishing School for Boys Who Want to be Girls" for the Social Engineering Class.
1 Copy of "NO ONE NEEDS A PENIS!" for the discussion following the field trip to the radical wing of the Women's Directorate headquarters.
1 Copy of "Your Sunday School Teacher's a Liar" for the religious studies class.

Okay, so maybe the news reports were a little more alarming than necessary. Or maybe they're saving this for Grade 1. Who knows?

All I know is that things have changed. Gonna be a challenge to keep up and only one more month to prepare myself.

Wish me luck and have a great Thursday!

Knock Knock . . .

Bored, bored, bored, bored, bored.

I'm bored.

As scintillating as conversations with a 2- and 4-year-old can be, I'm finding myself in need of adult discourse. Which is, of course, why I try to use big words here once in a while. Makes me feel smarterer.

The boys have reached the "knock-knock" phase of their humour education. Well, maybe not so much humour as joke-telling.

Example from Sonwun's repertoire:

"Knock-knock daddy."

"Who's there?"

"Banana!"

"Banana who?"

"Banana nana, farkle, foogle, doodle face."

This is, of course, followed by gales of laughter from both of my young charges.

It was almost cute the first 400 times. And, to make matters worse, Sontoo has picked up on the hilarity and tries to follow suit.

Summer's coming, summer's coming, summer's coming . . . I hope.

After an unseasonably warm beginning to March, we're getting bitch-slapped by the weather gods again. I knew the +10 temperatures were just a big tease, but I held out hope nevertheless.

But, as expected, the temperatures will fall back to the mid -20s this week, trapping us once again inside the house of humour. As a stay-at-home dad, I think I'm beginning to understand why valium was so popular in the 60s, 70s and 80s with stay-at-home moms. I'm guessing sales were off the charts in the winter months.

Anyhoo, enough bitching for one morning. Yesterday was a particularly violent day at playgroup. Sonwun took a good belt from teeter-totter seat under the chin. Bruised, but not broken. No blood, all good.

Little Bitty had a rough day too. She ran up against an 18-month-old with an attitude almost as big as hers. Bitty was doing her slide domination routine and the little 18-month-old was having none of it. This sweet little angel wound up and delivered a right hook to Bitty's left eye that Ali would have been proud of.

I did my best not to laugh. But if mommy ain't gonna teach the rules, the playground will. Kids have a remarkably pure sense of right and wrong, as well as justice. It's sometimes quite refreshing to watch.

Anyhoo, that's been my week thus far.

Have a great Thursday. The weekend's almost here . . . and summer's coming.

Cold-Blooded Killing

Warning: The following contains graphic images and material which

may not be suitable for those with weak stomachs.

The victim, in happier times, celebrating his birthday.

It appears to have been blunt force trauma.

Footprint evidence suggests one attacker, but police haven't ruled out a second. The scene is a mess. The victim, a snowman, was cut in half. It wasn't a pretty scene. There was snow everywhere.

Friends and family gathered in small groups near the scene this morning, remembering the once robust snowman. Born October 24th, an internal leaf disease had taken its toll, but Frosty was a fighter and was fully expected to survive the winter. The brutal and senseless attack put those hopes to rest.

A snow-encrusted scarf remains visible amid the carnage.

As a Forensic Identification Officer sifted through the gruesome scene, those gathered outside the police barricade gasped as a light blue scarf, believed to have belonged to the victim, was pulled from the carnage. Some turned away, as the scarf, literally caked with snow, was placed in an evidence bag.

"I saw him yesterday," a teary-eyed neighbour, who refused to give her name, said this morning. "He was always friendly, never had a negative thing to say about anyone. Some felt he was cold, but he had a warm heart. Who, who would do this?"

Frosty is believed to be the 14th victim in a string of snowman homicides around the city of Thompson. Some believe it to be the work of a serial chiller. (sorry!)

Police report a number of suspects will be interviewed following this latest attack, including an out-of-work magician and a second individual, known only as "Heat Miser." Burger Meister, Meister Burger has been ruled out as a suspect in the death, but remains under investigation for a recent rash of toy thefts, also in the Thompson area.

Anyone with any information about this, or any other pre-Christmas crime, is asked to leave a comment. Police will get back to you.

Tired in Thompson

If sleeping were an Olympic event, Neomom and I would have taken the bronze last night. Well, truthfully, Neomom took the bronze and I was disqualified.

Gold medal goes to Sonwun who, at 10:30 p.m., put together a spectacular performance in the mattress moistening competition. He finished with a flourish, by crying and screaming due, in part, to the fact that he wasn't really awake. We found him pointing and kicking at a pillow while howling. Neomom mistook this for a bad dream involving said pillow and removed the offending item from the bed. She then sat down in a puddle and realized that the pillow was really not the issue.

And so, while Sonwun curled up in a new, dry blanket on the extra bed, basking in his gold-medal glow, Neomom and I changed his bed, tucked his now-sleeping body back into his own bed and headed back to the competition.

At 3 a.m., Sontoo made his run for the podium. He opened with a little crying. Kind of a weak start really, considering he does this fairly regularly and it only lasts about five minutes. Neomom and I laughed off the lackluster effort and soldiered on under our own blankets.

But Sontoo is a trooper and he knew the silver medal was on the line. He dug down deep and kept that crying going for a good 20 minutes, knowing our gold-medal dream had already taken a hit from Sonwun.

After 25 minutes, we knew we were beaten. In keeping withe Sleep Olympics rules, I changed the ceremonial diaper and prepared the traditional concession bottle. Sontoo took silver. I, however, took consolation in the fact that I got to snuggle with the little silver medalist while he enjoyed the victory bottle and, shortly thereafter, fell back to sleep.

At this point, I also conceded the bronze medal to Neomom. She had to get up in about three hours and get ready for work. I advised her to put in the earplugs (perfectly legal in the Sleep Olympics) and catch what she could in the remaining hours.

As for me, I figured my best bet for a strong finish was the couch. So that's where I went. And, about half an hour into my near slumber, my arm cramped up, causing considerable pain and wakefulness. It was my fault. Every athlete knows you should stretch before competition. I did not and I paid the price.

But I wasn't giving up. I stretched out the arm, curled up and gave it my all for a big finish.

And it was about half an hour later that the cat decided to engage in mortal combat with a neighbourhood cat, through the basement window. While neither warrior could actually touch the other, due to three panes of glass and a screen between them, it didn't stop them from high-volume trash-talking and determined, yet fruitless, punches at one another.

The problem for my stupid cat was that he was on a thin ledge inside the window while his adversary was on solid footing in the window well outside. Thus, with each violent attack launched, my cat would fall from the window sill and scramble like a cat possessed back to his perch. In the oft-repeated process, he took out a lamp, knocked the blinds to the floor and shoved the futon mattress halfway off the frame.

Well, after chasing off the massive Tomcat that, in truth, would have beaten my indoor cat like a rented mule, I replaced the futon mattress and caught about 45 minutes of sleep before Sonwun awoke, came downstairs, turned on the large, bright, overhead light and asked "Daddy, are you awake?"

So yeah, I didn't make the podium and I don't think I even got ranked, as I did not finish the event. My Olympic dream is dead.

And it's a good thing I'm not a sore loser, or right now rather than laundering the evidence, I would be sending three blankets and a diaper off to the lab to test for performance-enhancing drugs.

Well, happy Tuesday! Gonna be a long one.

My World is Shrinking

It's happening. I didn't want it to happen, but it is. I am becoming one of those people who lives his life through the little box on the desk.

Yes, it seems my friends, my social calendar, my contact with human beings outside of the home is all happening on the computer. I hate to admit it, but I start each day (usually at 5 a.m., before the bosses wake up) with a cup of coffee and a visit to my favourite internet communities, to find out who's done what, who has responded to my posts and how many people have read the blog.

I've been thinking a lot about this in the last week or so, while the wife's been away. Is it a bad thing? Is it just the best option for me right now?

I'm a stay-at-home dad, my closest family member is more than 1,000 miles away, I've just moved to a new town, I haven't had the time or opportunity to make friends, and I have two young charges that limit my social activity in a big way. I'm not complaining, understand, I'm just stating the obvious.

So why turn to the computer? Because there aren't too many folks like me within driving distance.

Stay-at-home dads are still a rare breed (but growing) and there are not as many SAHD groups as there are "mommy and me" groups. Yeah, I can and have attended those meetings. They're good to a point, but I'm not a mommy. I can't contribute to the discussions on birth and breast feeding, cosmetics and clothes. And although I can't speak to it personally, a number of the SAHDs I've spoken with have even been turned away at the door by some of the mommy's groups.

And so, to find folks like myself, I turn to the box on the desk. And here I found Dadstayshome.com. You'll see the link to the right of this text in the "My Blog List" section.

It is an active site run by, run for and used by stay-at-home dads. The guys, SAHD's from all over North America, feel like friends. At this site, I find guys who know what it's like to wait for mommy to get home from work, just so they can get a few things done. Guys who have advice for cleaning hardwood floors. Guys who have found a trick or two for feeding a fussy toddler and guys who just want to shoot the shit about sports, politics, plumbing, photography, brewing techniques, cars, news and the funny stuff kids do. These are guys, like me, who no longer know what it's like to eat, shower, shave or poop without an audience.

Yeah, we also swap recipes and bitch about our wives. I've even been virtual golfing (http://www.wgt.com/) with a threesome from the site, after the kids have gone to bed. More living in the box, but hey, I won.

If you happen to be a SAHD reading this, check it out. It might just keep you sane.

I also find myself turning to the box to maintain my writing skills. This is personal and important to me. I want to continue to amuse and piss off the world in my own special way. To that end, I try to write a daily blog and I have joined a dadblog web site. I can read other blogs, critique them and have my own critiqued. Again, contact with and feedback from a segment of society that is not readily available in Thompson.

As for news, I get it from a number of internet sources. Another throwback to the old days I suppose. Must know what's going on in the world and I just don't have the opportunity to buy a newspaper every day.

And yes, I have a Facebook account, but I don't spend a lot of time there. I check it every now and again to see pictures of old friends, brothers, sisters, nieces and nephews. And I send virtual drinks. Why? Not sure.

Anyway, that's what's on my mind today. And writing about it helps me sort it all out. For those of you seeking humour today, I would suggest clicking here. This was a blog entry I discovered at the dadblog site. If you are easily offended by colourful language, don't go. But it's really funny, and appropriate for work. So enjoy. See you tomorrow.