I just finished my first vacation in a long time (unless you count my time off two years ago to move across the country… which I don’t.)

My boss forced me to take time off because last year I took the cash in December because I didn’t use any of my vacation hours. And my 6 year old, L.A. Girl had the week off from her summer camps.

I’m not much of a vacation person. I get it from my mom and her side of the family. Hard-working, midwest work ethic kind of stuff… We work till we drop. My mom, at 89 years old, still works. I feel guilty when I’m not doing something. I even did a little work last week and attended a phone meeting.

But the time I did take off with L.A. Girl was great. We had a fun week. There were the Fourth of July celebrations - barbecues, fireworks, and all that. Once that was over and L.A. Toddler and L.A. Mommy were back to school and work, respectively, she and I hit the town.

First, we went to the theater to see Toy Story 3. In 3D. We had a blast and she really enjoyed the film. And what’s not to love? Classic characters from the great Pixar storytellers wrapped up in a bittersweet tale of growing older and moving on.

L.A. Girl got some kids’ golf clubs from Santa this past Christmas so we went out to a local driving range here in Dublin and hit some balls. She is not sure if she likes golf, and gave up a few times, but after driving the ball we went over to their pitch & putt area and knocked around a few balls. She liked this and actually could be pretty good at it.

On Thursday, I decided to take her to a real golf course with me. I was going to go on her own because L.A. Mommy was taking that day off work. But our youngest was a bit sick on Wednesday and she couldn’t go to work until later and this canceled her day off. So… I took L.A. Girl golfing.

We got to the course and I showed her how far away the hole was from the tee. She was amazed. I would hit the ball while she would watch from the golf cart. I explained all the things I was doing and the strategies involved. She started keeping score for me. We played-through a few foursomes and all the guys commented on how great she was in helping out dad.

By the back-nine, she was a bit bored with the whole thing. So, I let her drive. Yep, the irresponsible parent that I am, I let her get behind the wheel of the golf cart. We zig-zagged all over the cart path but we got to our destinations. At one point, she zagged a bit much and nearly lost me. I had a vision of me chasing behind the cart as she drove through a sand trap and into a pond. How would I explain that to L.A. Mommy?

But it all worked out fine. And she has a renewed interest in golf again. Next time we go out, I’m going to have to play along with me.

Finally, we ended our week together by going to see Despicable Me on Friday. We have seen the darn trailer for that so many times, L.A. Girl was excited to see her favorite scenes they kept showing. We would giggle together when they would finally come up in the film. And we would laugh together and tickle each other at the funny scenes we didn’t know about.

This is our third movie together (we also saw Where the Wild Things Are) and I noticed something interesting. She does the exact same thing I’ve always done. When I leave a movie theater, I’m usually very quiet and introspective. I’m slowly pulling myself out of that world and thinking about what I’ve seen. And she did that at this movie and Toy Story, too. I would ask her if she liked it and she would nod and not say anything. I smiled and left her alone.

I guess the apple really doesn’t fall very far, does it? But I’m happy I got to bond with her and spend some really great quality time with her. That, to me, is a vacation.

The good news is that we get to do it all again for a week in August!

I got a call from my L.A. Toddler’s daycare yesterday. Her teacher wasn’t quite sure how to tell me what was wrong but finally managed to get it all out. I smiled.

Apparently, my youngest had decided that she didn’t want to eat her corn. She wanted to snort it.

She had placed a kernel up each nostril and they were stuck real good. The teacher told me that I had to either come get her or try to remove the misplaced corn…

Off the phone, I thought about my choices. Normally, at this point, I would have called my wife. She normally handles this sort of emergency. She would have given me great advice and I would have smacked my forehead in shame for not thinking of it myself.

So, I thought on it myself. And I came up with a solution.

I grabbed this little turkey-baster looking thing that we have. It’s designed to suck the snot out of your wee ones when they’re sick to clear up their airways. At least I hope we were using the correct way… If not, I don’t want to know.

I drove over to the daycare. All the teachers and administrators were there and they must have been talking about it because they laughed at me as soon as I arrived. Then they apologized. A few decided I needed help because I arrived and apparently don’t look like I’m capable of eating corn much less removing it from odd places.

But I informed them that “I got this.” And I whipped out my little turkey-baster thing. They eww’d and ahhh’d. I retrieved my sweet baby from her classroom and took her to a quiet room in the daycare center.

And I stuck the thing up one nostril. She squirmed, writhed, and whined. I let that baster pull at the first kernel for a few minutes and nothing happened. My genius plan was foiled. But I was determined… I kept at it. And finally…

The corn kernel appeared at the entrance of her nostril. I reached for it and L.A. Toddler accidentally (I think) snorted it back in. Pop! It was gone. So I tried again and again. I did manage to eventually get it out but my daughter was giving me the evil glare.

I hate the evil glare.
I tried to get the second one out and it just wasn’t coming. And, by now, she had completely given up on the torture I was inflicting on her and decided to wail at the top of her lungs. And the corn kernel shot so far up her nose, I couldn’t see it anymore. It was gone. Being the lazy man I am, I gave up. I figured I’d get it later that night. One was out and she wasn’t complaining about it anymore.

So… I returned her to her classroom. And as I was opening the door to her room, I dragged the heavy metal door across the top of her toes causing serious pain. She cried bloody murder! Daggers were firing out of her eyes! The teacher had to rescue her from her EVIL dad and… my work was done.

Later that night, L.A. Mommy was giving her a bath. And she discovered a corn kernel floating in the bath water. It had worked itself out and had dropped out of her nose. At least, that’s what we’re telling ourselves. If it dropped out of somewhere else–

We don’t want to know about it.

I’ve just sent my baby girl, my darling baby girl, off to her last day of kindergarten.

She’ll be a first grader next Fall! It seems like just yesterday, I was sending her off to her second-to-last day of kindergarten. My, how time flies…

This first year of “real” school has been a whirlwind. But I’m so proud of her, it’s not even funny. I even told her that right before the school bus came to get her. She asked, “Why are you so proud of me?”  I told her it is because she has done so well and learned so much. She reading and comprehending perfectly and so much more.

It’s been a marvel watching her the past school year. L.A. Girl has truly become a big girl.

The last day of school really is no big deal to her. She’s excited about some of her summer camp activities coming up, but that’s all it is for her. But for her mother and me, it’s a passing of another milestone. No more half-days of school. It’s on to more reading, writing and arithmetic. More… seriousness, I guess.

Congratulations, L.A. Girl! I love you, I’m truly proud of you, and know you’ll go on to do great things!

Hello. My name is Tim. And I…

I am a Craigslist junkie.

I can’t help it. I’m addicted. I’ve been searching for and finding a ton of great deals on the site. Some free, some I’ve paid for, all in my area. Craigslist is really, really big in Los Angeles. It wasn’t quite the big deal when we moved here. But it’s gotten bigger since and a lot of people are using it.

I was a big fan out there - I found several motorcycles, a few cars, sold a few on Craigslist, and I even found my current job on the site. What’s not to love? I never understood the fever that people had for eBay years ago (mostly because it didn’t seem like they were getting great deals…) but I’m starting to get it now.
Lately I’ve been searching for stuff for the house. I used it to sell a few things that came with our house that I didn’t like but now I’m on the buying end.

About a month ago, I was looking for someone selling a backyard playset or swingset. They’re all over the place, here in Ohio. And we’ve got a big backyard. And I knew the girls would love one.

I got lucky and found one that someone had posted on Craigslist for free! And they were in my neighborhood. So, I knew it would be a piece of cake. I went to inspect it. It was solid but it had seen quite a few Columbus winters. Some of the wood was warped, the screws were rusted, and the accessories were worn. But I was determined. I was on a mission.

It took me three days and a whole lot of blood, sweat and tears (literally) to get it out of that backyard and over to my house. But I did it. I replaced some wood and I re-stained it all with a rich redwood stain. I had to buy a new tarp, a new swing, and a lot of new screws. In total, I spent about $95. So… it wasn’t really free. But normally these things are several hundred dollars brand new. And I also knew that it would be a project done by me. I always appreciate things more when I know I’ve personally put them together.

But I’m finally all done with it. And the girls really do love it. They only seem to want to walk up the slide, but… kids are kids.

I’ve also trolled the site for a new toy box for their play room, a new basketball hoop, a fridge for my old frat house (of which I’m the alumni president now), firewood, railroad ties for our garden, and a few other things. And now… I’m looking for a boat.

I’m addicted. But I don’t think I need help. Not yet. There’s still a few more things I need.

Like that boat…

I’ve been busy. Too busy to write a blog post here, it seems.

But it’s been a “fun” busy.

I’ve been busy going to concerts! In fact, I think I’ve been to more concerts here in Ohio in the past year than in all the time I spent in L.A. Getting tickets to shows in Los Angeles is not easy. It’s the hub of the entertainment industry so groups of tickets are plucked up by labels and studio dweebs to allow them to mix-and-mingle and pretend they’re cool and twenty (or thirty) years younger.

So, when tickets for my favorite bands would go on sale, they’d be sold out in minutes. Even artists hated playing in L.A. because they knew the crowds would suck.

Here? Great bands are coming all the time and it’s fairly easy to see a show! In the past couple of weeks, I’ve seen Band of Skull, Black Rebel Motorcycle Club, and a great Pink Floyd cover band called Wish You Were Here. Last night I saw Band of Horses opening up for Pearl Jam.

And there’s so many good shows coming up. I’m going to the Goo Goo Dolls this Saturday. I’m planning on seeing Concrete Blonde and Primus this summer, and this fall Roger Waters is performing “The Wall” again.

But a lot has changed since I was a youngster going to shows. I mean really changed.

Back in college and for years after that, I was going to a ton of shows. Which explains why I can’t hear shit anymore. Back then, people would hold up lighters during the slow songs. Today, they hold up cell phones. And… that just doesn’t quite have the air of rebelliousness that underlies rock and roll. Occasionally during a show today, you’ll see of puff of smoke wafting up to the stage lights from an illicit, medicinal-type device. Back then you could cut that smoke with a butter knife and your contact buzz lasted about 4 days.

And the crowds are a bit more civilized. Gentle, in fact. The venues don’t help much - I actually saw a sign a the Pearl Jam show last night that said, “No Moshing Allowed on the Main Floor”. There were three orderly lines of seats on the main floor with folding chairs and when the music started, everyone stayed in their spot and took 400 pictures with their cell phones.

Back in my day, the crowd would have all pushed forward when the first music note was heard. About 1,000 people would have jumped down from the seats surrounding the floor and rushed the stage. People would have been flinging themselves all over each other. A few rowdy, drunk kids would have harmlessly jumped on stage and danced around until a security guard would have tossed them back into the crowd.

Not any more.

Is it because I’m going to shows of some bands that have been around a while and the fan base is a bit older? Not really. There were a lot of people at the Pearl Jam show last night that weren’t even BORN when the album Ten came out…

No, people are just calm sheep with no apparent angst or residual anger for the favorite artist to vocalize for them. They stand up when the popular songs are played and give thousand-yard-stares during the other songs.

Most repeatedly take photos, from a hundred yards away, with their small cameras or cell phones. And each time, as I stand behind them, I can see they’ve merely got a blank shot with a bright, white light at the center. It’s about as useful as taking a picture of the sun. I even noticed a moron sitting in front of me texting. Yes, texting. During a show. And not just once…  What ever happened to enjoying where you were instead of spending time telling others about what you’re supposedly enjoying? Sheesh!

But I’ll keep going to my shows and enjoying the live music. And laugh at all the people who seem to refuse to have a good time at the shows.

I think maybe I’ll try to rush the stage at the Roger Waters show, knock down a few Wall blocks on stage. But I’m so old I’ll probably wear myself out just trying to pull myself onto the stage…

Wish me luck.

My daughter tripped and fell in the grass last night. She started to cry but I knew she wasn’t really injured.

And I remembered what my old football coach used to tell me when I was hurt, bleeding, with a piece of the bone sticking out….

“Rub some dirt in it! It’ll be fine!”

So, I told my daughter to do that. And so she did…

L.A. Mommy hit me.

I’ve finally used the phrase that was used on me countless times as a kid. That dreaded, “There are starving kids in China!” line that parents use to keep their kids from wasting food.

I was practically standing outside of myself watching me as I delivered it to my oldest daughter. And I was shaking my head in disgust. But I couldn’t stop saying it… even mid-sentence when I knew it was so completely wrong.

L.A. Girl used to eat everything. She’s gotten pickier in the past year or so. It happens. But I’m not helping matters lately.

You see, I almost always make dinner every night. I’ve always had a bit of a knack for cooking, but I’m no expert. Not by any means. Basically, when I say I make dinner it usually means I pop a frozen Stouffer’s macaroni and cheese in the microwave. Tear off some iceberg lettuce into a few bowls and we’re all set.

I do have a few good dishes that I make from scratch, like chili and lasagna, so I’m not a total idiot.

But lately, I’ve needed more of a creative outlet. I’ve gotten into watching the Food Network and I’ve been perusing more than a few cookbooks lying around the house. This has led to me open Tim’s Restaurant. Not an actual restaurant, mind you, but it’s usually the dinner where I’m trying out something new and experimenting on my family.

And so far, so good. I’ve gotten some pretty good reviews. Even the kids like some of what I’m creating. Some…

I like to do cook, I’ve discovered. I’ve been doing enough of the experiments now that I can sometimes whip something up without a recipe - just by using some ingredients I have on hand. I was even in Trader Joe’s last night, buying a lot of items I always see in certain recipes but never have in the pantry. I picked up some red wine vinegar, balsamic vinegar, and a few spices.

Some of the things I’ve made include a Red Snapper Vera Cruz (snapper with cumin, Mexican-style stewed tomatoes & salsa, on a bed of saffron rice), Orange-Glazed Salmon, Skillet Ziti & Vegetables, Beef Stroganoff, and a Deep Dish Pizza Casserole.
Like almost anything you do yourself, having the right tools really helps. But really almost everyone can learn to cook. It’s kind of daunting to get started but once you complete a few simple recipes… the fear drifts away. Timing is really the biggest key to making a successful meal - getting things to finish as the right time, not over-cooking, etc.

I figured I’d occasionally put up a few recipes I’ve tried. Let me know how they work out!

I’ll do a real easy one first - it’s that Skillet Ziti and Veggies dish.

What you need to buy:

1 package of frozen stir-fry vegetables

1 jar of sun-dried tomato & herb pasta sauce (typical size pasta jar)

1 package of ziti pasta

1 package of shredded provolone cheese (8 or 10 ounces)

1 roll of garlic bread (frozen)

See? Very simple collection of ingredients!

Instructions:

Get everything out and ready to go so you don’t have to go hunting for everything. First, check how long it will take to make your garlic bread. Usually, you heat them up at 350 for 8 - 10 minutes. The ziti takes about 15 total cooking minutes, so plan on putting the bread in after you get everything started. That’s the timing part of this whole thing.

Using your microwave, defrost your frozen veggies. Usually, this creates some water, so pour that out and set your stir-fry veggies aside.
Okay, combine 2 cups of your pasta sauce with 2 cups of water in a large skillet. Bring this mix to a boil. Add in the pasta and the stir-fry vegetables. Cover up your skillet (which means - have that skillet cover ready before you start!) and turn down the heat so that the mixture simmers (but doesn’t continue to heavily boil.)

Let it stay like this for 15 minutes. Use this time to prep your table and clean up any mess created. Take out your garlic bread. Then, remove the cover from your skillet and sprinkle with the provolone cheese. This should give you about 5 or 6 total servings. And it’s not very expensive.

Now, to be fun, or suit to your taste, you can add in a variety of meat choices to this as well. When I did it, I added a sliced Italian sausage (it was fully cooked, so I just microwaved it for a few and sliced it up. Then added it to the simmer with the ziti and veggies.) But you could add chicken, pork, beef, whatever.

And… that’s it! If the kids don’t like it… you can always tell them about all those starving kids in China. Enjoy!

And another thing…

What’s with all the crying?!

Yes, it’s another thing no one told me about when I signed up for this gig. As I told you, I didn’t know to get the owners manual like everyone else did when we had our first daughter. And I was too tired to remember to ask for it when we had our second daughter…

So I need some help.

There is entirely too much tears in my house. Major meltdowns over the smallest things. Weeping, wailing and gnashing of teeth for nothing at all.

And this has got to be a girl thing. When I was growing up, I don’t remember weeping bouts every thirty seconds. And there’s not much I can do about it. The XX chromosomes out-number me three-to-one in my house. My sad Y chromosome and I must hang out in the garage pretending to rebuild a carburetor.

I can’t remember a dinner where we sat down and ate an entire meal without one of them bawling their eyes out. “She got more mac n’ cheese than me! Waaaaa!”, cries the youngest one. “I don’t like that, daddy! It’s yucky! Waaaaaa!!!”, cried my oldest one. “Why can’t we watch American Idol! Waaaaa!”, cried my wife…

I just can’t win.

And here’s the thing. I don’t know if you know this or not, but most men cannot - and I mean CANNOT - handle tears. They don’t know what do. And I’m one of those men. I’m completely lost. I just want to stand there and spin in circles until the crying stops.

You see, a man’s solution to tears is to try to get them to stop. As soon as possible. So the first thing that pops into my mind is to provide a way to fix the problem. And that’s where I get into trouble and it’s something I don’t understand. These girls don’t want me to fix the problem. They just want to cry even more. Because everytime I say, “Well, she’s bigger than you and can eat more and needs more energy!” I get another round of uncontrollable weeping! Or, “Well, American Idol is one of the dumbest shows on the planet, that’s why!” I get a deadbolt slammed shut on the nooky locker… and some crying.

Anyway, I don’t know what to do. But I think I know why so many men have hearing problems as they get older. It’s not really from too many Black Sabbath concerts when they were kids. And it’s not from all the screaming from their kids when they’re older. I think they have figured out the method to the madness.

I think they’ve figured out a way to tune it all out. A man can only handle the sound of girls crying for so long before he either goes mental or learns how to cope. And the answer is to block it all out. Sure the wife will make me go get a hearing aid, which I’ll fake on the hearing test, and I can forget to wear it often. And she can commiserate with our daughters over the latest tragic incident involving a few drops of spilled milk on the kitchen floor.

I’ll just sit in my rocking chair, in blissful silence, and pretend there’s no sound at all.

Now… can someone please scan me a copy of the damn owner’s manual for little girls and email it to me? I’ll pay ya. I promise.

I want my money back!

I demand a refund. I knew becoming a parent involved sacrifice and runny noses and lacrosse practice and xylophone recitals and all that.

But what I didn’t really count on losing out on were all the little things.

I rarely take vacations (I feel so guilty and I end up more stressed out than I would if I were working) but I started thinking of our schedule of places we would be going. I’ve got a 5 year old and a two year old.

So… I’m thinkin’ that Vegas is out of the question. No more Napa Valley trips, I’d say.

Noooo… Now It’s Disney World! And educational trips to Washington D.C. or Colonial Williamsburg for me!

I used to hear about how some dad gave up his two-seater sports car when the kids came along. I scoffed at that! Ha! I said! I would never give up my toys for a buncha ankle-biters! Never! And I’ve been pretty good about that. Still have my motorcycle. Still have my ‘68 GTO.

However, there are still some little things that are hard to pull off when you’ve got kids. Sure, you can hire a babysitter and go out for the night. But, let’s face it - it’s really a hassle to do the whole babysitter thing.

You hear about some cool loft project in the heart of downtown surrounded by all this fun nightlife and are resigned to the fact that you need to live in Suburban Hell next to Glenn the golfing salesman and Patty his Vicodin-dependent trophy wife.

I know now that I will never get to ride a motorcylce through Europe.

It’s over. I’m done. Get out that fork and poke my fat ass. I’m a parent. I serve at the whim of my children. I have given up my right to do anything 1) Cool, 2) Semi-cool, or 3) Anything even remotely or vaguely associated with the word Cool.

Nope. It’s kids birthday parties at Chuck-E-Cheese and sweating my ass off at Epcot every July.

Oh, I know I’m just whining. It’s really no big deal. I love my girls so much it hurts. It’s a lot of work, but I did know that going in.

But some of these little details were not in the brochure, dammit…
I want my money back!

My youngest, L.A. Baby, has a break-in period.

She’s 28 months old now. But her personality has been shining through for a while now. Like most kids, she’s stubborb, but it goes beyond that at this point. I’d say she’s… determined. There’s absolutely no way to trick her, reverse pych her, or bribe her to do anything she doesn’t want to do. She’s also a bit ornery, too. She gets that from her mom…

Some kids are extroverts and don’t need any time to adjust to new people. The introverts are always shy and clingy and need some time in a new surrounding (or they never really do adjust.)

But L.A. Baby is neither.  It doesn’t matter where she goes, she creates a break-in period for herself and only she knows how long that is.

She’s not scared of new people but she will give anyone and everyone the “stink eye” when they act like retards to try to get her attention, try to kiss and hug her, try to inspect or examine her, or try to play with her. She’ll have none of it. And she doesn’t act shy or cry or any of that. L.A. Baby will simply take in her surroundings - watching, learning, evaluating your weaknesses before she strikes and… sorry, going off on a tangent.

Last week, she was running through the house and face-planted on the hardwoods. I took her to the dentist to make sure there was no permanent damage. When she was seated in the chair, the dental tech tried to coax her mouth open. I told her she might have to wait a while. But the tech was determined.

And… all she got was the “stink eye” and a frown that would make a nun feel guilty. She tried everything to get my daughter to open up. To not look like a complete dickhead, I tried to get her to open her mouth, too. But I was aware of the break-in period and we were not even close to that time limit.

When I saw the tech wasn’t going to give up, I told her to go ahead and peel back the girl’s lips and check her out anyway. I don’t think she thought I was serious, but did it anyway. She got no cooperation - zero, zip, nada. But she didn’t fight it. They managed to get an x-ray on my determined little one, too. When the exam was nearly over, my little baby hit her break-in period time limit and she started smiling and talking and acting normal.

The tech declared that she must’ve gotten over her fear, but it happened during the exam. Not once the dentist brought out the box of toy trinkets, but before. It’s hard to explain, but she’s always like this. When she goes to her school, when Grandma comes to visit, sometimes even with her own parents.

What does all this mean? It means we’ll more than likely never, ever get a decent school photo of our child.

I don’t think this is a phase. And I’m reasonably sure that very few school photography services will have the time to wait for the break-in period to pass. We’re looking over proofs right now from her most recent school pics. Every single one has a beautiful little girl, staring right at the photographer (and not the camera) and giving him or her a righteous dose of “stink eye”.

And you don’t want that.

Now… I wonder where she gets this from?