Monthly Archives: January 2013

#Parenting, Automobiles

Lust after curves. love engineering.

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Much like women who are often first admired for their beauty, a car is most often first noticed & lusted after for its swooping sheet metal.

On a personal level: I certainly first noticed my wife as an attractive female.  It was only after getting to know her I fell in love with her engineering & subsequently married her.  Don’t get me wrong, I still think she’s hot, but It’s the supportive, strong and capable aspects of my wife I appreciate when knee deep in a baby induced shit storm or after a really hard day in the salt mines.

Like a woman, Audi made me lust after her during my youth with the muscular fenders and venerable speed of the Quattro coupe, but it was the engineering that drove me to ownership (currently I drive an audi allroad). For me it was the most appropriate & coolest machine within my means that made sense to own (living with a couple kids in a place where weather is volatile like Toronto) A beautiful avant with twin turbos and air suspension, whats not to love.

On a sunny afternoon day the clean lines, purposeful proportions and muscular fenders Urge me to open a cold one, air out the bags, sit back and admire, but it’s behind the wheel I appreciate it for all the beauty that lies beneath. During winter storms I am more gregariously in love with Audi then ever.

The quattro and overall engineering of this machine leaves me firmly planted no matter the weather, four wheel drive commanding authority when traversing snow covered highways, the twin turbos letting me outpace the morons about to slide into me. But its not all german staunchness: when on a side road off comes the ESP stability control and with a quick shift and prodding of the go pedal, on come the turbos & free break the tires, pushing me through icy corners with massive four wheel drift. It really is amazing the control you can maintain while maniacally sliding through snowy streets in an Audi.

So like my wife, I love my car dearly, unlike my wife, I may sadly need another one. If I do need another machine with which to buy diapers, cruise happily, feel good in and enjoy washing it’ll likely be another Audi.

#Parenting, Reckonings

The truth about children

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Children:

They are cute. They are cuddly. They are intelligent. They are miracles. They are pure love.

The above is all true and mostly, it’s what you hear when you ask someone to describe children, their own or otherwise. Countless mentions have been made about children being the light of lives, wind beneath wings, bright star of direction and straight up reason for being. As a father of two I can attest it is all true, although not always and specifically accurate.

Undoubtedly children can also be described as: messy, stubborn & a general pain in the ass. These are less romantic and warm but also true. That being said, there are other ways we can more specifically describe kids. This article is meant to expose the truth so here it is:

Children are basically just like an adult who is an alcoholic, schizophrenic, sociopathic all around jerk.

Harsh you say? Not at all. Face it, your kids behave just like a person with all these mental diseases, addictions & personality traits combined almost all the time.

Here’s a case study:

Daddy asks son: do you want to go for a ride in daddy’s car, drive fast, and go run in a BIG store? I know its a loaded question as he loves all of these things immensely.

He answers yes. Time to get ready – INSANITY ensues: His mother attempts to put her boots on. He wants to wear them Because HE is Santa. He throws an insanely intense fit. Father explains that mommy needs her boots, its snowing and he has his own, which are even his size! He finally & begrudgingly accepts it and dons his own galoshes. Then there is a battle royale over every other point of getting into the car. Soo much in fact that the mission is totally aborted, everyone goes back in the house. Lesson learned: do NOT let the boy peer inside the garage when trying to leave, it contains sleds, bikes, trucks and other treasures. Obviously he needs to use, ride, and drive ALL of them NOW.

Back in the house there is a major meltdown because the evil parents have destroyed his life by not allowing him to go in the car, drive fast while wearing his boots, sit in his seat and go running in the BIG store.

This is totally insane on soo many levels its too difficult to describe, so I wont bother. Bottom line:

If its logic you seek & empathy or understanding you’re after, your likely not going to seek it from an insane, alcoholic, schizophrenic, drug addicted sociopath right?

So don’t expect them from a 2 yr old.

#Parenting, Reckonings, Uncategorized

Pink Milk & Blue Balls

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This article is not about gender roles, this article is not about whether it’s right to specify your baby’s accoutrements based on sex, it’s not about strawberry quick (which is delicious) & it’s certainly not about a snooker ball worth 5 points.

My lovely wife nurses our children for the first year (or just under) of their precious little lives, which is commonly accepted as a good time to rip the teet away and let them journey on their way to a heavy cow juice addiction. The problem is that little word I mentioned just now – rip. Our kids seem to come by their chompers rather early in life. My daughter at 5 months had 2, which is two fewer then her big bro at the same age, but those toofies are sharp!

So.. When she began to bite, blood was drawn and curses were heard. At first it was simply a series of little nik’s, nothing major but from what I was told, very painful indeed. After that, very quickly it seems, baby girl became aware of her power and bit harder the next few times, resulting in even more raucous outbursts and more bloodshed. This was becoming a serious problem.

My wife then thought to pump the breastmilk and give her a bottle, but there was an issue – PINK MILK. I couldn’t believe how much damage she had done, there was so much blood from the tiny wounds that the milk was actually dyed pink! I don’t know if this would’ve effected the tastiness & I doubt there are health concerns about it. Oddness sure but whadyagonna do.

From a nutritional perspective this luckily coincided with the advent of other foods being introduced so wifey’s nipples were given some breaks here and there to heal. It’s a going concern but the baby food and the nipple shields I purchased have helped.

What wasn’t given a break was me. You see, injured, bleeding nipples don’t make women want to get sexy time. So Here I sit in a toddler induced war torn household, full of bloody milk and crying babies, in my basement with my blue balls.

 

 

#Parenting, Reckonings

Logic is King – Sleeping with the enemy

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You’d think from the sounds coming out of the second floor of my house that my wife was beating the sh%! out of our 2 yr old son.  Screaming, yelling, whining, all at a billion decibels.  She is trying to convince him to take a nap!  He is tired, exhausted even, but the mere suggestion of a nap has him freaking out as if you were smashing all his toys and not letting him eat.. ever.

What is this logic?  I mean I get the feeling of not wanting to miss out on something, like when your friends are having a party but you can’t attend – it sucks.  However, we’ve told him that we are taking a nap too and nothing is going on this afternoon, indeed I wish I WAS taking a nap.  The logic of feeling tired should be enough on it’s own to dictate the a nap but not with a 2 year old, it’s just a source of anger.

I understand, they are sewing oats, trying to prove that they have control of their own destiny and all the rest.  But for god’s sake man, sleep deprivation and  hunger strikes are not good ways to prove your point, or maybe they are, it worked for Mohandas Gandhi

The difference is that a two years old’s plight usually includes violence of some kind.