Handing your kids over to their Father!

So ironic that this episode should post today.

Last night I went to a financial seminar.  Not setting my hair on fire, but listening to an economist.  Here I was taking notes for my dear husband who was home with the kids.  It was an engaging little lecture about how the European financial issues are playing out and how they could affect us in the US ( in summary, if it were 14 years ago, a lot, but we have a lot of different trading partners, so not so much).  Also, the economist said something about the bogus term “Fiscal cliff” to which I blurted out, “I just blogged about this!”.

Anyway, since Mark is now home at night for the first time in our entire marriage I knew I had to school him about our routines.I didn’t know I had to worry about him being a man child.

Yes, this video is about when you go out of town or out ON the town and leave the kids with the old man.  But, lately I’ve gone out twice for two hours and it was LORD OF THE FLIES when I got back.

I got home..9:00pm All lights are on in the house blazing, “Ghostbusters” is an hour in, Rex is sitting naked next to Mark on the couch, Vivien still in her day clothes.  They are all laughing.  No bath, no teeth brushed.

Me: “What the hell?”  I turn the movie off.  I scold my husband.  It’s a school night, you played a movie the other night, I told you, movies are for weekends only, blah blah.  Yes, I sound like a harpy, but a harpy in the right.

“Do I have to get a sitter for you too?”  He just looked kind of sheepish.  As I got Vivien in her nightgown she was trying to take the heat for her dad.  While I could hear him throwing Rex on the bed and laughing.  Sure, it’s great he is a nice father, but time to calm the toddler down now.  He should go to bed before midnight!   I was so steamed I didn’t speak to  Mark for the rest of the night.  Granted the rest of my night was reading three stories to Rex and falling asleep with him, but there you have it.   I should have watched THIS video before I went out.

This ensures I will never get divorced because if I do my kids will be up all night eating donuts on nights with dad.

Apparently, corporate bonds and big muni bonds are still good.

 

Dad Humor

In other of Father’s day I pay tribute to a unique aspect of fatherhood: the jokes.

Oh, poor dads. Under appreciated and the recipients of many eye rolls.  But, c’mon they can bring it on themselves.  Not remembering the names of their kids friends, being five years behind on what the kids like  (“I got tickets to see The Wiggles? What don’t 9 year olds like the Wiggles?”).  Hardest of all for me to take is the sense of humor.  From my dad’s generations, to my lovely husband dad humor would get them the hook at a comedy club. Their hacks.

So, where can a dad perform?

What are the forehead ( not knee) slappers in your house?

Happy Father’s day

 

Sandwich Generation Part 206

One of those things that 22-year-old moms are less likely to face: do you take your baby when visiting your parent in assisted living? My father is still mentally with it but needs help, so a couple of years ago we decided it was best for him to be in assisted living. Many are grim or super expensive. The one we found that hit the sweet spot of human decency is about 20 miles from me.

I use to try to see him every week, but since Rex (well, since towards the end of the real uncomfortable part of pregnancy) my goal is more like every two weeks. So, here is one of the issues, do I take my kids or not? Up until recently Vivien was fine with visiting a-little- too- leisure- village.  But lately when I say “Do you want to see Papa?”  “No” is usually the answer. I don’t blame her since many of the people there are pretty out of it.  But when she would visit, it was like a light switch had gone off in their brains.

“Oh, a life force!” She used to sit on the laps of people in wheelchairs without a thought. Now, she has thoughts, and it’s “I would rather go to the park.”

Okay, so Rex and I could go when she is in school. (Timing the traffic is very important in LA) But like young Viv, Rex HATES the car. But my dad LOVES seeing his little grandson… not to mention how happy the other old folks get at seeing a young child.

Am I willing to cause my offspring discomfort to bring a few moments of joy to some infirmed oldies? Yes, sometimes I am. And sometimes there is no choice.

Today was that day. Rex, asleep in his car seat, and I went to visit my dad. I used to take my dad out more, but now that I once again have a stroller in my trunk, it’s pretty tough to get my dad’s walker in there as well.

My dad’s room faces a garden patio, which was a big selling point for us when we placed him there. We sat on the patio, and the folks who are with it cooed at Rex and rubbed his toes. The ones I call “pre-chew Charlies” didn’t seem to know whether Rex was there or a meteor had landed next to them.

When I allowed one sweet older gal to rub Rex’s toes, my dad came charging over with a enraged look on his face. When we walked away he said, “I was afraid you were going to let that lady hold him.” I couldn’t say to him, no, dad, but I did want to throw a little joy in the ladies day and let her touch the yummy baby skin.

To another lady, who is not too together anymore, who was reaching for Rex, my normally social, ladies man dad said, “He doesn’t have time for you.”

He liked introducing Rex to the staff. I think assisted living is like high school or college, but the status is a little different. In this world, it’s not new sneakers or a car but warm, soft skinned people who belong to you and who come to visit you.

Rex fell asleep on the way home, but as we got closer he woke up and cried and cried. I felt bad putting him though it, and I told him he made a lot of people happy today… that is if they remember it.

Older Dads

Here’s a Cool Mom video guest-starring my husband, Mark Peel! I wanted to get his take on having children who range in age from 25 to six-and-a-half-months in utero. Or as I like to say, Mark is single-handedly trying to shore up Social Security. I wonder if it’s ’cause he was raised a Mormon…