Time To Beef Up Security

by He Said

So, yeah.  I'm gonna post something.  I know you all thought we were dead, or had forgotten the password to our blog site.  It's really been none of the above, but just plain laziness.  I don't see all of YOU blogging everyday.  So this might be a bit rambling, or even boring, but I need to get back into it so you all have to suffer through it.  All four of you!

 Braedyn has a new canned response he gives us every time we film a funny video, or take a funny picture or even laugh at something we think is hillarious!  "Don't you put that on the internet!" he will scream at us.

I am not sure how I am supposed to respond to that other than by doing this.

That's not why I started this post.  Today is really all about Emily and her new found fears. Fears of going to the bathroom unless one of us is STANDING there watching her.  I don't know what she is afraid of, and she just says "I'm scared" and will stand in the hallway crying until:

1.  I give in and follow her down the hall into the bathroom or
2.  She pees her pants.

I never let us hit number 2.

This fear has now extended to the nighttime routine.  I tuck her into bed and if I scoot her over to the wall, you know, next to the deep dark crevasse of evil where the wall meets the bed, I have to be careful because the claws come out and embed themselves in the nearest area of my flesh.  That's when the ear curdling cries start as well.

So, I have learned NOT to scoot her towards the wall.

Most recently she began telling me she didn't want to sleep on the lower bunk.  She was scared.

Me: "What are you scared of Em?"
Em: "I hear noises at night!"
Me: "Emily, that's probably Charmin walking around, or me getting up to check on you because you moan at night, or mommy getting up to go potty."
Em: "No, they are other noises.  Its not Charmin."
Me: "What kind of noises?"
Em (speaking in COMPLETE seriousness): "I can hear a man walking around the house and he is carrying a sword he wants to stick in me."

Now I try to be a good dad.  I try not to laugh when my kids say really funny stuff.  This time I kept my composure, but I swear I heard Braedyn chuckling in the upper bunk.

Me: "Have you ever actually seen the guy walking around the house with a sword at night? Because I think I do a pretty good job at keeping strangers with swords out of the house at night."
Em: "I'm SERIOUS!"

And she was.....

I keep looking for evidence of a late night swordsman.  If you see one in my neighborhood, or yours, please, let me know.

Take Your Gluten-Free Cupcake and Shove It

Posted by She Said

Since the discovery of Emily’s allergies, we have completely changed our eating habits in the house. The results have affected us in many divergent ways.

First, and most notably, Emily is like a new, fully-energized little girl. I’m seriously having a hard time keeping up with her, and for that, I am thrilled.

Second, even feeling better, Emily has been bummed to not be able to eat some of her favorite things. This came to light during a play date when she was asked what her super power would be as a fairy, to which she responded, “My super power would be to eat anything I wanted to.” Even as hard as I have tried to find tasty alternatives, let’s face it. Wheat-free, milk-free, egg-free stuff is just different. Not bad, just different.

Third, Braedyn is not thrilled with this change. After being served a dinner of rice pasta and red sauce and homemade wheat-free, dairy-free, egg-free meatballs, he broke down at the table and told me, “I don’t like any of dinner, you are just making stuff for Emily and not anything that I like.” I kept my cool and explained that I am trying really hard to find food that we will all like. This, however, was not a change I had anticipated.

Last, and most painful, our grocery bill has sky-rocketed. My friend Emma jokes that everything that used to cost us a dollar is now $5. After poking around in the store with her today, I think that number is actually closer to $7. Because we are going to a BBQ today, I also visited a local bakery that specializes in gluten-free and dairy-free sweets so that Emily could have her own special cupcake while the rest of us gorge on the good stuff the allergen-full stuff. Because we are spending gobs on alternative foods these days, I am trying to cut back in other areas as much as possible.

Call me crazy, but I think the following conversation with the bakery owner was a *tad* inappropriate on her part:

Me: I’ll take one cupcake.

Bakery Owner: We also have these day or two old cupcakes on the counter for 50 cents.

Me: Ah, ok. Perfect. I’ll take one.

Me to the cashier: Oh, I’ll also take a diet Pepsi please.

Cashier: <Adds an additional $1.75 to tally>

Me to cashier: The Pepsi is $1.75?

Cashier: Yes.

Me to cashier: You know what? That’s ok. I’ll just take the cupcake. I’m almost home and can wait.

Bakery Owner: That’s less than you’d pay at a restaurant.

Me to BO: I’m almost home. I’ll just wait. I don’t want to spend that on a diet Pepsi.

Bakery Owner: You need to help keep us in business.

Me to BO: I am.

BO: By buying a 50 cent cupcake?

Me: Well, I won’t if I continue to be harassed.

BO: Well, it’s just that we are a small, local business.

Me to BO: I just recently found out about my daughter’s allergies. I bought a six dollar (actually $6.25) for a loaf of bread here this week that I doubt my daughter is going to eat. I bought a donut for $1.25 this week. I’m encouraging my husband to bring the kids here on Saturday mornings for their donut outings. I AM supporting local business.

I paid my fifty cents and left, but I am left wondering if I ever want to go back. Yes, that would mean that I will have to make ONE MORE FREAKING THING from scratch. Right now, in this moment, it feels worth it.

Label Readers UNITE!

Posted by She Said

Every now and again, you need to have a serious post from us, right? RIGHT!? So, I’m going to give in to your need for something snark-free today.

Greg and I have been worried about Emily for a while now. She has had tummy troubles since…well, forever. And what has really worried me over the last couple of years was her level of energy. I’m not even talking about comparing her to Braedyn, ‘cuz let’s face it, not many CAN keep up with that fireball. I’m talking about her choosing to not have a play date because she’s tired. Or lying down on a couch during a play date and simply not playing. Or during a play date, getting up, going to her room, shutting the door, and falling asleep on her bed. I had every reason to believe that her tonsillectomy last December would remedy this, but it didn’t. In fact, it slowly seemed to be getting worse.

And you know me, I worry. I try not to, believe you me! But this time, I couldn’t help it. I had taken her to the doctor several times for her tummy issues and separately several times for her lethargy. A couple of weeks ago, I took her in again. This time, I pulled her doctor out of the room so Emily couldn’t hear, and I laid it all out. All my worries. And he understood and took action. I took her immediately after the appointment for some blood work to test for celiacs, crohns, iron levels, infection, and lastly, food allergies. She was such a sweetheart as the lab tech prepped her for the blood draw. She didn’t struggle in my lap, and she didn’t cry; she just looked up at me and whispered, “Mommy, I’m scared.” And let me tell you, my brave little girl was spoiled rotten after that! I’m talking chocolate from the candy store, two new dresses, and a new bathing suit. Girlfriend, we shopped!

And then I waited. And just to let you know, waiting patiently is not one of my strong suits.

After a little over a week of waiting for results, I finally heard the news. Thankfully, Emily does NOT have celiacs or crohns, nor does she have any infections. I can honestly say I was relieved to hear that Emily “only” has some food allergies. She is allergic to wheat, cow’s milk, egg, and banana.

Then I let all of that sink in. Um, do you remember all of those food stories involving our children while we were in China? And do you remember how picky they are? Especially Emily? Yeah, it hit me that everything Emily eats she is now allergic to.

• macaroni and cheese, Emily’s staple – contains wheat and milk
• cheese – contains milk
• goldfish crackers – contain wheat and milk
• chocolate milk! – um, yeah
• banana – one of the only fruits I could ever get Emily to eat

Thankfully, she’s not allergic to broccoli - the ONLY green thing she’ll eat.

I am lucky enough to have a dear friend that works at Whole Foods, so the day after learning of Emily’s allergies, we went shopping, and she shared with me all of her knowledge. I bought three different types of vegan cheeses, including one parmesan alternative. I bought goat cheddar cheese because her allergies don’t include goat milk. I bought coconut milk and almond milk. I actually found a “macaroni and cheese” that was wheat-free AND dairy-free. Yeah, it actually tasted good, but nothing, nuh-thing, like Kraft.

And I have to give it to Emily, she has been a trooper and has tried it all.

That’s right. My picky little eater has started a whole new culinary adventure at our house, and she’s the captain of the ship. She’s being honest about what she likes and doesn’t like. She’s never been one to complain about being sick (unlike her brother and her dad, ahem), so her willingness to venture into this new culinary world really makes me feel like she is excited about feeling better. I have a lot to learn and many questions to get answered still, but at least we know what we are dealing with.

We should see a difference in about three weeks, so stay tuned.

Backpack? Check. Teeth Brushed? Check.

Posted by She Said

Emily started Kindergarten this week, and she has loved it. She loves the special cubby where her new Hello Kitty backpack goes. She loves her teacher, adoringly known among the parents as “The Kindergartener Whisperer”. And boy, does Emily love the special playground that is just for Kindergarteners.

Even with this excitement for school, getting ready in the morning and out the door has not become any easier on me. Any particular chore in the morning makes me sound like a broken record:

Me: Emily, Braedyn, get your shoes on please. It’s time to go. <me running around collecting backpacks>

Me: Emily. Braedyn. Time to go. Please get your shoes on. <me brushing my own teeth>

Me: It’s time to go!! Get your shoes on! <me making sure lunch and snacks are appropriately packed>

Me: Emily! Braedyn! Get your shoes on! NOW! <me watching my children blow bubbles in the backyard WITHOUT SHOES>

Me: GET YOUR SHOES ON! GET YOUR SHOES ON! GET YOUR SHOES ON! GET YOUR SHOES ON! GET YOUR SHOES ON! GET YOUR SHOES ON! GET YOUR SHOES ON! GET YOUR SHOES ON! GET YOUR SHOES ON! GET YOUR SHOES ON! GET YOUR SHOES ON!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! <me spinning my head, pulling out my hair, and foaming at the mouth>

Good times.

So, once we are at school, Emily picks out the “Kindergarten only” swing with the least amount of bird poop on it, sits, and begs me to push her. I oblige, knowing the time will come when the pumping of legs will render me useless in this task. There I am, lovingly pushing my daughter on the swing on her second day of Kindergarten, and I start to run through the checklist in my head, hoping that I remembered everything in the mad dash out the door.

Backpack? Check.

Teeth brushed? Check.

Snack packed? Check.

Hair done? Check.

I continue to push Emily. She is happy. I am happy. And then as her dress flows up in the breeze…

Underwear on? Oh. Dear. God. Say. It. Isn’t. So. CRAP.

That’s right. My daughter went to school in a dress. Commando.

I let out a mumbled, yet loud, “ohmygodwhatamIgoingtodo?” intermingled with a gasp of epic magnitude. Thankfully, my friend, Emma, came to the rescue. Her oldest of three is in Emily’s class, but the poor middle child, who is only about a year younger than Emily, had her “knickers” taken from her and given to Emily for the day. Crisis averted.

We always knew that Emily had a soft spot in her heart for the Playa, so I blame myself for not double checking her “knicker” status. Trust me, it’s now at the top of my daily checklist.

The Age Of Innocence

Posted by He Said

Young children can have a closeness in their sibling relationships that is innocent and closer than many adults can comprehend. This relationship changes, it can be strained with age and even vanish at the hands of the emerging adulthood of the teenage years.

Emily and Braedyn on many occasions express this love for each other and a closeness that can be seen as disturbing when viewed through the eyes of maturity. Those would be She Said's eyes by the way. We all know I am far from mature.

Our trip to China created a bond between them that I never had with my sister or brother and I don't think they would argue that statement. Since returning Emily and Braedyn have shared a room. In China they had to share a bed. They have not slept in separate rooms since returning, trust me, we tried. I figure if I can get Susanne to let them sleep in our room we will be weeks away from ordering a yurt. Who needs a three bedroom house when you all share room.

If you are new to this blog, don't be creeped out, the kids are 5 & 7 and hell no they aren't moving into our room.

I would however move into a yurt if my wife would let me.

So the adoration they share for each other is really quite cute and yet creepy when seen through the eyes of an adult. On more than one occasion Braedyn and I have had this conversation.

Braedyn: "When I grow up I am going to marry Emily."
(remember, this is his sister.....)
Me: "um.. No, no you are not"
Braedyn: "Why not?"
Me trying to be gentle, but keepin it real: "Because brothers and sisters don't marry each other."
Braedyn: "Why not?"
(because we all know the same question asked again deserves a different answer)
Me (having no urge to discuss birth defects, incest, or EEEEEWWWWW factors): "Because there are laws that say you can't."

Now it's important to note I have no idea if there are actually laws on the books against this. In fact, in the state of Nevada there probably are laws defining it as best practice and recommending a Colt handgun and a Remington shotgun as a dowry, but it was the best I could come up with.

Braedyn: "That's silly."

Now, yes there is a yuck factor here that is sometime hard to get past, but remember he is 7 and it's cute when you can keep the banjo music from Deliverance from playing in your head.

This week we are watching the Star Wars movies (Episodes 4, 5, 6 first, because it's just good parenting) when they realize that Leia and Luke are sister and brother.

Braedyn: "So they can't get married can they," he says matter of factly.
(remember, we ALL saw that awkward kiss in Episode 5)
Me: "No they can't."
Braedyn: "Because of those silly laws that say they can't."
Me: "Yes, because brothers and sisters love is different. Someday you will find someone who you love so much more in a different way than you love your sister, you will want to marry her"
Braedyn: "Well, I would rather marry Emily, but I can't because of those silly laws."

I couldn't help but smile and say "Yes Braedyn, because of those silly laws."

It would be easy to see this as a gross and creepy thing, and mock it, because that's what I do, but I can't, because I hope that he continues to treasure and care for his sister as he grows older.

I just hope he never kisses her like Leia kissed Luke.


- Posted using BlogPress from my White Dragon

Fetch Spike. FETCH!

Posted by He Said


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Let Sleeping Bugs Lie

Posted by He Said We recently purchased a backyard fireplace, one of those small round bowl types and as such I purchased a bundle of firewood. We also purchased an aboveground pool back in April when we had a warm spell. Yes, I know, April. I even filled it. It is the BEST Ladybug catcher in the whole wide world, let me tell you. The surface area of a 14 foot round pool catches them by the handful. If I could only keep the cover on, the pool would stay bug free. Frankly, I think the kids rip the cover off so it can catch bugs, then tell me "the wind blew it off daddy, really!" So the kids catch the Ladybugs and put them in their water and sand play table and have absconded with all the unburned firewood (because according to my wife and kids its too cold to swim OR sit outside by the fire) and turned it into a Ladybug home. Here they are showing the Ladybugs in their "boats".

This morning the kids ran out to check on the Ladybugs who had been placed in their home the day before. They came running back in. Kids in chorus - "Daddy, Daddy, one of the Ladybugs stayed in the house all night!" Me - "Really, thats cool." Kids (again in chorus) - "But he is still sleeping." I'll bet. - Posted using BlogPress from my White Dragon

All the features you need in a perfectly-sized package

Posted by He Said

The "Education of Charmin” continues.  I have been taking her to dog training classes at PetsMart as I mentioned in a prior blog.  Last week added a bit more stress to the class. Susanne was sick and I had to drag the kids along with me.

Part of the issue with Charmin is that she is very protective of the children.  This means in a classroom with four other dogs and the kids things get a little stressful.  Braedyn of all people provided a little stress relief this week.

One of the dogs was a Great Dane puppy that was taller than Emily, I kid you not. The sweet dog was focusing his attention to two golden retriever puppies so his backside was facing us.  All of a sudden I see Braedyn lock his sights on this dog, and a huge grin comes across his face.

“Daddy, look! He has a really big bum.”

I turn to look and realize that this puppy still has his package and it’s swinging in all its Great Dane glory.

I try to talk frank and grownup with him so I say “Braedyn, that’s not his bum. Those are his testicles.”

The smile vanishes and is replaced with a look of confusion.

“What are those” he asks?

Now come on, we are trying to be grown up about this conversation and I simply say with the straightest face I can muster “Those are the things that hang below your penis.”

I can tell you right now, we didn’t stay grown up about it very long. 

How To Kill A Zombie

Posted by He Said

My daughter had her iPod taken away yesterday for pour behavior. No, I did not spell that wrong. It was the sort of behavior that makes me pour extra large glasses of wine.

As I said this pour behavior resulted in losing her iPod for the day. This means her zombies in Zombie Farm went unharvested. FSM FORBID they go unharvested. There were tears and more pouring.

I returned it this morning and when she turned it back on she looked at me with sad eyes and said with great dissapointment "Aaahhh my zombies are all dead!"

I am not certain this method of killing zombies will help in a zombie apocalypse, but I will let you know if anything comes to me after I finish the wine from yesterday's pour.

Exiting GuyLand

Posted by He Said

This last week I heard a news story on NPR about this phenomenon where boys CHOOSE not to be men until in their late 20's.  What makes you a man? According to this story and the author of a book called GuyLand, it entails graduating from high school, financial independence, marriage and children.  So that’s what makes you a man?  I can assure you I know several males who meet those requirements and do not qualify as men.  I won't name names unless you make a direct financial contribution to my retirement fund.  This story made me think about this, and I believe I have a new life event to add to this list.

For those of you who don't know, we have a dog who is the reincarnation of Houdini but goes simply by the name Charmin.  Go ahead, search the blog and catch up.  I can wait.

So now that you are all up to speed on the fact that our dog can jump over the moon to explore the neighborhood, I have an update for you. It's getting worse. She now loves to do it anytime she wants whether we are home or not. Please, don't comment that it's a behavioral problem. I GET IT.  To fix this issue I started taking her to a dog training class at Petsmart taught by a great lady by the name of Roxanne Kimball.  I had hoped training my dog to understand that I am the leader of the pack would changer her behavior.  I had hoped she would start to stick around when we leave her in the backyard.

This is not what happened.  In fact it has gotten worse.  Normally she only jumps out when we leave.  Recently she has leapt out when we put her out to take care of business, she hears someone or something outside and over she goes. So it’s official.  Yes, I am a crappy dog parent.

The other morning I swore to start walking her regularly.  You know, because exercise is supposed to make your dog happy and suppress the wanderlust. This of course is traumatic in its own right because Charmin gets very protective of of the family when she is on her leash.  She is great at doggy daycare.  They love her there.  Put her on a lease to take her for a walk and she turns into Cujo growling, snapping and all the while wagging her tail like she WANTS to go play, but the second voice in her head is telling her to kill them…kill them all.

So the first day of our new routine, off we went down the street, headed towards the new home construction area.  It's bustling with early morning construction workers.  Full of buff, hard hatted, tattooed and flannel wearing construction workers. You know what I am talking about.  Man's man kinda guys. The kind of guys who have testicles hanging from the backs of their Mini Monster Trucks and fully loaded gun racks in the windows.  You know men who are native Nevadans.

Then I realized.  Here I am walking my dog with her pink collar and her pink leash. I’m comfortable with my masculinity I can handle it.  Then I realize on my way out I had to grab the last travel mug to bring my morning liquid crack with me.  It's not just any mug.  It's a bright pink coffee mug.

Seriously pink.

I realize I look like a walking breast cancer awareness ribbon.

I won’t lie.  I considered crossing the street.

Let me tell you. Nothing graduates you faster from guy land like walking through a construction crew with all pink accessories.  Ok, except maybe walking through WalMart in a Utilikit, but that’s a story for another day.