The Boys Search For Their Blue Steel

Tags

baby portraits, blue steel, Humor, neil patrick harris, parenting, zoolander

June 27, 2016

Like a lot of parents I think my children are the cutest things that exist on Earth.  And like a lot of parents, when I see the results of their photos taken from a professional portrait taker, I think to myself, “What the fuck”?  It’s not just that the camera doesn’t love Charles and Arthur.  The camera seems to have a serious grudge against them.  I don’t know what my children did to piss off the camera but if I’m honest, they’re a big part of the problem too.  They’re not bringing their A game to the shoot.

When my wife and I went to the portrait place I saw the above photo and got excited.  But I didn’t get a photo like this.  I got photos like this.

I won’t even place the pictures side by side for comparison.  It hurts too much.  Of course they might not have understood what the photographer was going for when she placed them in a piece of luggage from the 1920s. I’ll admit that the theme confused me as well.  I’ve traveled with them and I know I’d never get away with this method as convenient as it might seem.  What my sincere hope is, is that the boys are looking for their signature look and just haven’t found it yet.  They’re hoping to stand out in a way that surpasses the cute baby pictured in the Sears photo frame.  If that’s the case I’m going to help them define some of the looks they were trying out at this shoot.

This was one of the first looks that Charles busted out and I call it “The Browntown.”  It’s the classic look that says he’s just taken a dump and creates a tense yet relieved vibe.  Very few of the top models in the world are brave enough to try “The Browntown” and I can see why.  It’s a vulnerable look.

Arthur is showcasing a look called “Sandman.”  It’s a sultry blase look that says, “I want a nap.”  Charles is hitting us hard with a look he calls “Jade.”  “Jade” is a look that is meant to convey the jaded feeling a child gets even though he’s just one year of age.  He’s seen a lot of living in twelve months and seen a lot of things that can’t be unseen…like episodes of Harry The Bunny that go nowhere.

Arthur spent most of the shoot using his “Hard To Get” look.  It’s a method he employs to avoid looking at the camera at all costs.  He’s clearly got some American Indian influence and feels that looking directly into a camera to have his pictures taken will steal his soul. Charles on the other hand is giving us the “There’s No Santa”?  This technique is suppose to convey the beginnings of lost youth.  This look combined with “Jade” convince me he’s really ahead of his time.  Maybe too far ahead of his time.

It was time for a wardrobe change.  With a new set of duds we got…pretty much the same results.

At this point Arthur had taken a newer approach.  He wasn’t avoiding the camera.  He was taking it head on.  Not with a smile but with his threatening “I’ll Cut A Bitch” look in full effect.  This is the look he gives me in the morning when I change the shirt I’m wearing because he’s looking at me like I can’t carry it off.

Charles rocks his “Superhero” pose while Arthur meets it with complete disinterest. It’s a look that I like to call “Navy Man.”  Arthur patterns this look after watching Daddy utter, “You never tell a Navy Man when he’s had too much to drink,” while he walks around drinking tequila out of a Denny’s Mug.  Daddy’s never been in the Navy.

This was their last pose of the day and I call it “The Outback.”  This look begs the question, “Is there an Outback Steakhouse in this mall”?  Because at this point what you really wants is a large pitcher of Margaritas and a baked potato the size of a baby’s head.

What was the takeaway from this experience?  We know that we won’t have to sink a lot of money into modeling school and expensive head shots.  The next time we need to have a portrait of the boys we’ll go down to the pier and find a guy who does silly drawings.  At least we can say they look this way on purpose.

 

Least Favorite Child Results

June 18 – Least Favorite is Arthur.  Arthur has developed a habit of finding a remote corner of the house and butting his head against the wall until it hurts enough for him to cry.  I remember when my wife and I thought our kids would be geniuses.

June 19 – Least Favorite is Charles.  Because of Charles I have a nightly ritual of placing anything I don’t want him to grab high enough so that he can get to it first thing in the morning.  I don’t like to add rituals before I go to bed.  I just like to go to bed.

June 20 – Least Favorite is Charles.  I caught him making out with the dog.  I don’t even know what to make of that but it’s going to cost me some sleep.

June 21 – Least Favorite is Arthur.  At one point he was using his hands to put food in his mouth and realized that if he stopped, we’d do it for him.  He has laziness down to a science.  He burns about ten calories a day.

June 22 – Least Favorite is Arthur.  In fact he’s so lazy that he’ll cry in the middle of the night because the pacifier is just out of arm’s reach.  He needs someone to come in and put it in his mouth.  Maybe he only burns five calories a day.

June 23 – Least Favorite is Charles.  I appreciate that he’ll sleep so deeply that taking a big dump won’t wake him up.  But waking up to this carnage is unsettling.

Least Favorite Child Year One – Charles

Total Days As Least Favorite Child – Year Two

Charles – 15

Arthur – 16

Days since Neil Patrick Harris received my post and hasn’t responded – 320

 

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I Think I’m Gonna Need A Moment

Tags

Big Foot, crying, Humor, Kim Kardashian, neil patrick harris, Otterbox, parenting, Veep

June 17, 2016

“There’s a strong chance that my sons’ first real memories will be the sight of me laughing at them when they cry.” – Me, 2016

Makes me seem like a big feeling shit to quote myself.  It also makes me seem lazy to start off a post with something I wrote on Facebook.  It’s another day where I’m looking to cut corners.

I haven’t learned a lot in  thirteen months as a parent.  But I have figured out one very important thing I can pass on to anyone who’s about to have a child.  Don’t bother buying toys for the first year or two of their lives.  That’s not what they’re into.  What they want you can’t buy at a Toys R Us.  Babies want YOUR stuff.  They want to play with things you depend on to make it through your day to day life, that they can fuck up, break or lose.  And when you take it away from them they lose their shit.

A couple of years ago my wife bought me the sturdiest Otterbox iPhone cover that exists when I accepted a job to work on a show following people searching for Big Foot.  I was going to be chasing a dozen nutbags in the Pacific Northwest in rugged terrain that would include swamps, torrential downpours, wild animals and other unthinkable elements.  I might die, but my phone, I was told, would be intact.  Fate intervened and I got a better job offer a few weeks before the Big Foot show started shooting so I was thankfully never able Otter Box iPhone cover to the test.  My one year old son Charles, however, was able to do to my phone what I was guaranteed a Yeti couldn’t.  He rendered it useless in about 15 minutes. How he did it I have no idea but when I took it from his grubby hands, it was dead.

The only bright side was the amusement I found at watching the slow build of his enormous cry.  He made the cry face and opened his mouth, but no audible sound came out for at least 30 seconds.  It was like he was summoning a cry from so deep down within his tiny body that it took half a minute to reach his vocal cords.  He does the silent cry a lot, and every time it happens, I call my wife if she’s not in the room to “Come quick!  He’s doing the hilarious silent cry!”

Watching Charles silent cry, has become almost as funny to us as an episode of Veep.  That’s right, we’re monsters.  But it’s probably because it’s our emotional defense due to all our stuff getting ruined.

Charles is the main culprit because he can walk around and is taller than Arthur.  The other day, in the blink of an eye he had taken the “Q” key off my wife’s laptop keyboard.  I was impressed.  It’s a hard key to reach.  Its not like he took the “control” button.  I would have only been more impressed if he had taken the “C” key, which would have led to my wife and I inevitably convincing ourselves that he was trying to spell his name and that he was clearly a genius.  Parents are always looking for any sign in our desperate hopes that our kids aren’t morons.

I was able to pry the “Q” away from him before he swallowed it which led to this reaction.

I can measure his value on things by the level of his crying.  For instance if I take a steak knife out of his hands it’s this.

If he’s holding some expensive face cream of my wife’s and I take it, it’s this.

These things don’t matter as much to him so he’s a little restrained.  But there are items that if taken away, guarantee a hysterical and hilarious breakdown.

Take away an iPad

Or do the unthinkable and take away the TV remote

I have no idea where I’m going with this post or what the point it.  It’s only recently occurred to me that I spend more time laughing and charting the levels of my children’s crying than consoling them.  Maybe I shouldn’t expect a great Father’s Day gift.  If it’s something really cool, Charles would just want to ruin it anyway.  I’d have to take it away and then laugh as his silent cry evolves into an ocean or tears.  Wait…that sounds exactly like what I want.

Least favorite Child Results

June 11 – Least Favorite is Charles.  Pretty soon, Arthur will be able to walk.  For all I know he’s been practicing in private.  I just know that Arthur is looking for payback from all the things his brother has yanked from his hands and walked away with.

June 12 – Least Favorite is Charles.  Babies can lose a lot of points at dinner time.  I know Charles does.  There’s nothing fun about playing tug of war with a one year old over a spoon.  If you could get the yogurt into your mouth on your own I’d be delighted.

June 13 – Least Favorite is Arthur.  He’s picked up his brother’s old habit of rolling over in the middle of a diaper change ensuring that I need no less than 15 wipes to properly clean him.

June 14 – Least Favorite is Charles.  I see more fights in our future when it comes to TV selection.  He ranks Harry The Bunny much higher than the NBA Playoffs

June 15 – Least Favorite is Arthur.  I no longer need an alarm clock because I have a baby monitor by my bed.  My new wake up call is Arthur talking to himself loudly beginning around 5:30am.

June 16 – Least Favorite is Charles. If I get home after a long work day I’m usually looking forward to the smiling faces of my children seeing me.  If Harry The Bunny is on, Charles is locked on that and he wouldn’t look at me if I was on fire.  And I’ll be honest.  Harry The Bunny isn’t nearly as funny as he thinks he is.

Least Favorite Child Year One – Charles

Total Days As Least Favorite Child – Year Two

Charles – 12

Arthur – 13

Days since Neil Patrick Harris received my post and hasn’t responded – 313

You Only Get One Shot At Your First Word

Tags

babies, beautiful words, curse words, first words, Humor, neil patrick harris, parenting

June 10, 2016

I emailed my Mother a video a few days ago that signified a milestone moment.  It was a video showing Charles saying his first word, “EAT.”  Her email reply took the wind out of my sails of excitement.  Basically she wrote, “Isn’t that cute.”  She didn’t say he was a genius nor did she comment that he was advanced past the typical baby.  Just that his first was “cute.”

And I have to admit it.  She was right.  As far as first words go, it was kind of an unimpressive debut.  It’s not like he uttered “photosynthesis.” Out of interest I asked her what my first word was and she had absolutely no recollection, so obviously I didn’t blow the barn doors off. I also made a note to myself that on my next visit I might have to take my Mom’s “World’s Greatest Mother” mug away from her.

She did remember that my older sister’s first word was “shit.”  This early evidence of a potty mouth was credited to my father’s salty language.  But it serves as proof that if you want your first word to be remembered, or anything in life for that matter, it needs to be LOUD and it needs to be impressive.

It’s too late to fix Charles’ unremarkable first, but there’s still a chance with my other babbling idiot, Arthur!

It’s not like both of these kids haven’t mistakenly said words amidst their endless gibberish.  I know for a fact that I’ve heard Charles say the word, “ennui.”  But the odds that he was trying to explain the feeling of utter weariness while he was bashing plastic blocks against a toy truck are pretty low.  Of course, I did watch the French Connection a few weeks ago while he was in the room so maybe he’s a bit of a francophile.

Not long ago while driving I heard Arthur utter a word that sound extremely close to bucolic. Is it possible that he was enjoying the view of a lovely rural setting?  Doubtful, we were driving through a car wash.

But I want Arthur’s first word to be memorable and for him to know what he’s saying.  So I’ve looked at lists of the most beautiful words in the English language and am going to try to drill them mercilessly into his tiny skull.

Dalliance would be a fantastic first word.  I’m sure I can teach him this although the situation that would prompt him to say it is a little ambiguous.  I’ve seen him play with his toys and he has a dalliance with all of them.  I guess I’d need to teach him to say this word the second he drops one of them.  I like the image of him throwing his stuffed giraffe down and saying “dalliance” before moving on to an empty yogurt container.

Embrocation is another good choice.  It’s a whale of a word but let’s face it, as raw as his ass gets there’s plenty of occasion to use a word that indicates that act of moistening and rubbing a diseased part.  Four syllables is a lot to take on though.  He’s said each of these syllables separately though so there’s hope.

Forbearance is one of my favorite words that I never use because who wants to be the type of asshole who uses it in conversation.  But if a baby said it that would be awesome.  Of course teaching a word that means patience and lenience to a child who cries hysterically if I don’t hold him upside down repeatedly is going to be way off the mark.

Nope.  I think if this was his first word he’d come off as a douchebag.

Maybe I’m concentrating too much on impressive words and not loud words like my sister did when she exclaimed “shit” as her first.

A phrase like Ass Badger, Jizz Monkey or Fuck Stick is going to not only get you remembered but well liked by the type of crowd I tend to associate with.  Clearly there’s a lot for me to figure out and I need to do it quickly.

As far as my Mother having no recollection of my first word, I kind of think it entitles me to make up my own first word.  I don’t know what it’s going to be yet but at the moment I’m leaning toward “thundercunt.”

Least Favorite Child Results

June 4 – Least Favorite is Charles.  He has an ability to lose his shit whenever I take something from him that he shouldn’t be holding.  My wife says he’ll grab whatever we usually hold because he sees it as valuable.  I’ve now been reduced to sitting in my living room holding a toy trucks while I watch TV.

June 5 – Least Favorite is Arthur.  I love him but there’s no avoiding the fact that he’s a pussy when it comes to having a cold.  He passes every cold he has onto me yet I never throw myself on the ground and wail uncontrollably.  OK, maybe one.

June 6 – Least Favorite is Arthur.  I’m giving this pick to the dog.  When I pick these kids up from their high chairs after a meal, half of what Charles has been served falls on the floor for Winston.  Arthur leaves very little on the floor for Winston.

June 7 – Least Favorite is Charles.  Explosive poos.  If it were a sports league, recruiters would be at the door asking to speak with Charles.

June 8 – Least Favorite is Charles.  His sneezes are just as explosive as his poos…and are usually done on the TV remote.  Should anyone reading this ever meet me DON’T ever shake my hand when I extend it.

June 9 – Least Favorite is Arthur.  He has a lot of hair and in the morning one of the jobs I’ve been given is to comb it, which I’ve never done to my wife’s satisfaction.  So I blame Arthur for the first disappointment I deal my wife every day.

Least Favorite Child Year One – Charles

Total Days As Least Favorite Child – Year Two

Charles – 8

Arthur – 11

 

Days since Neil Patrick Harris received my post and hasn’t responded – 306

 

 

Welcome To Thunderdome

Tags

Giggles and Hugs, Humor, Kevin Spacey, Mad Max, neil patrick harris, parenting, Saving Private Ryan

June 3, 2016

Did you know that if you pass by a playground and close your eyes that the sound of 20 children playing sounds exactly the same as 20 children being mercilessly tortured?  I know, it’s odd…maybe even a little creepy that this occurred to me but it’s become more relevant now that I have kids.  That’s because every weekend my wife makes us take our kids to Giggles and Hugs.

This is a promotional photo that makes Giggles and Hugs seem like an idyllic play area for toddlers and parents to enjoy memorable moments of bonding through healthy and energetic play.  But if you’ve ever been there, or any play area like it, especially on a weekend you’re probably aware what this place really is. It’s much more like the first 25 minutes of Saving Private Ryan when American soldiers, in gory and chaotic fashion, attempt to take the beach of Normandy from embedded Nazi forces cutting them down cruelly with machine gun fire.  The only thing missing from this place a blaring horn indicating an air raid, but with the pandemonium of these kids yelling at if their limbs are being torn off, I may just not be hearing it.

(Welcome to Giggles and Hugs!)

The name of this place might be catchy but it’s far from accurate.  Screaming and Scolding matches the atmosphere more closely.  There’s not a child in this real world Thunderdome who is subtle enough to giggle in the midst of this bedlam.  And the only hugs come from parents consoling the children upset that the “bubble party” didn’t last long enough or the other kid that cut in front of them for a turn on the ill advised zip line.  I see a lot more scolding from parents with kids that have no concept of sharing or that standing on another kid’s head is going to erupt into a surprisingly volatile situation.

Of course from a parent’s perspective, this place should be called Fractures and Sprains.  I’m an older parent, but very few adults are made to withstand the rigors of chasing their children over a treacherous obstacle course of curving slides, cargo nets and plastic jungle gyms like they’re Indiana Jones.

(“Arthur, please don’t go near the ball pit!  Wait for Daddy!”)

I’ve been to Giggles and Hugs about nine or ten times so far and I have never left without a little limp, and I realize I’m lucky.  It’s only a matter of time before I wind up like so many of the other Dads who’ve been blindsided by a four year old running at full speed into the back of their knees.

(Thanks, Getty Images!  You’ve captured what I was going for perfectly!)

But injury isn’t the only concern at Giggles and Hugs.  If you’re there you are not going to JUST be around thirty to forty kids aged 5 and under.  You’re going to be in direct contact with them along with their coughs and runny noses.  You might as well walk into the bio-hazard room from the movie Outbreak without a safety suit on and wind up like Kevin Spacey.

(“That was a lot of fun, Honey.  I can’t wait until next weekend!)

If you want to take a legitimate sick day from work, just hang out by the ball pit for 15 minutes on Saturday and on Monday you’ll be calling in with a convincing sick voice.  Want to take the whole week off?  Say a quick payer to the Lord and jump into the vat of diseased blue balls head first.

(It’s fitting that if you look at a germ cell under a microscope it looks a lot like the ball pit itself)

Of course Giggles and Hugs does provide an environment where kids can learn to socialize with other kids which has value.  Even more valuable is that it helps me learn how to socialize with other parents.  I’ve found the best way to bond with other parents is to single out the worst kids, the ones pushing the other kids and screaming the most, and talk about the horrible job their parents are doing raising them.  Nothing bonds like judging other people.  I learned that as a child.  I can also usually single out one kid who’s a little too old to be there, for myself and the other parents to critique.  “That kid is too big to be here!”  “At his age he shouldn’t be at Giggle and Hugs.  He should be facing serious decisions about recreational drugs.”

(This kid should not be coming down the slide right after my kid)

The smartest thing they do at Giggles and Hugs is serve liquor.  Nothing soothes the soul in the midst of this anarchy like a few beers.  And nothing nurses an injury as well either.

(“One more shot of Jamesons and then we’ll hit the zip line!”)

I guess I have learned lessons at Giggles and Hugs, but like most things, they come at a cost.  Unlike Thunderdome, it’s not two men enter, one man leaves.  But 35 kids do enter along with my sanity.  Only the kids leave.

Least Favorite Child Results

May 28 – Least Favorite is Arthur.  Talk about a kid resting on his laurels.  After coming out as the favorite in year one, he’s convinced he can do no wrong.  He can.  Regular intervals of annoying whining gets old quick.  He’s not quite crying.  He likes to take it right to the edge of crying and moan for a while.

May 29 – Least Favorite is Arthur.  He can feed himself, but he’d prefer it if you brought the food directly to his mouth.  His life goal is to be incapacitated. He’s going to identify with the male lead in the film ‘Me Before You.’

(Sure, I want to make out.  You need to come to me, though)

May 30 – Least Favorite is Charles.  Someday Charles’ brother will walk around as well as he does, and his reign of taking whatever toy or object he’s holding away from him will end.

May 31 – Least Favorite is Charles.  You know how when you take away something a kid is holding, like a TV remote or a steak knife, they get upset.  Charles starts out with a silent cry for 15-20 seconds that ramps up to hysterics.

June 1 – Least Favorite is Arthur.  Arthur can’t speak but I believe his first sentence is likely to be, “Oh, are we leaving right this second?  Let me crap in this brand new diaper while while you open the front door holding me, a stroller and a diaper bag.”  And if that happens I’ll be annoyed AND impressed.

June 2 – Least Favorite is Arthur.  Why reach for a pacifier in the middle of the night when you can scream and have a parent wake up, come into your room and move it one inch from where it is and into your cake hole.

Least Favorite Child Year One – Charles

Total Days As Least Favorite Child – Year Two

Charles – 5

Arthur – 8

 

Days since Neil Patrick Harris received my post and hasn’t responded – 299