We went out to breakfast on Sunday morning. It’s not really a tradition, but we like to let someone else do the cooking every once in a while. And this Sunday, I was out of eggs anyway, so… off we went.

After we sat down, L.A. Toddler opened her menu and immediately went to her favorite item — macaroni & cheese and broccoli. “I want that, daddy! I want that!” I tried to tell her that she should order breakfast food for breakfast. She cocked her head to the side and asked, “Whaaaaaaaat?”

Trying to explain “breakfast food” to a four year old is not anywhere close to being easy.

I told her that there are certain foods that most people eat in the morning and there are other types of foods that people prefer for their dinner. She gave me that look that says, “You’re an idiot, aren’t you? I don’t think I should be talking to you…”

And I know what you’re thinking. If the girl wants her mac & cheese for breakfast, who am I to stop her? If it would “keep the peace” to have this independent little ankle-biter eat sno-cones in the morning, I’d let her do it. But the problems only begin when she gets her mac & cheese.

She sees my eggs. My sausage. My toast. And she decides that she would rather have that. Guess who gets stuck chewing on rubbery broccoli at 9:30 in the a.m.?

Moi.

Does L.A. Mommy help me out at all? Does she have my back? Hells no. She sits there and laughs at me. She thinks it’s funny.

So, I tried to lay down the lay on Sunday. I attempted to explain breakfast foods. I told her that you could eat breakfast foods for dinner, that was no problem. But sometimes dinner foods for breakfast could be a little too heavy, too rich. I even veered off into trying to explain “lunch foods”. L.A. Toddler sat and watched me carefully as I broke down typical breakfast, lunch and dinner menu ingredients and meals.

When I was done with my lengthy explanation, and L.A. Mommy was trying hard to hide her snickering behind her hand, I looked down at my daughter and asked her, “Now. What do you want for breakfast this morning?”

She picked up her fork, pointed to the mac & cheese and broccoli kids meal, and said, “I want that, daddy.”

The broccoli was pretty good. A little more crunchy than usual. And if you try it with some soy sauce, it really is an unexpected surprise…

Would you like to avoid a major meltdown in your home? Heed my advice…

If you are going to tell your world-weary toddler, at the end of a long week, that you’re going to be serving “Fish and Chips” for dinner… it’s very important to not give her French fries, but actual potato chips.

I made this mistake. Just the one time.

It will never happen again.

The decaying radioactive material from the nuclear explosion that was dinner time last night is still oozing down the walls. Is she a spoiled rotten little child who over-reacts to every situation that her four year old soul faces?

Absolutely.

But in her defense… I did say chips. When I started to use the words “England” and “different” and “meaning”, I knew it was hopeless. The Gorton’s Fisherman held his head in shame on the box of 10 frozen fish filets.

Did I give in and give her potato chips? No. I held my ground. I didn’t want her to think she could cry to get her way… even when her dad was a blithering idiot who didn’t know the difference between two popular forms of sliced and diced potatoes.

But I had to endure the tears, the quick gasp-gasp-gasps, and the pouty lip as she dipped her French fries into the ketchup and gave me the “Why, daddy?! Why?!” looks every 20 seconds. I think I ate my food that night. I don’t really remember. It’s a wonder it didn’t make me sick.

So, my errors and failures as father should be a lesson to you, if you have kids… Make sure you avoid a situation where you will poorly translate foreign food names.

We put an offer in on that pricier house today.

Although, to look at me, you wouldn’t think I’d be able to afford a house much less even have a job…

Well, that’s the impression I get. But I could be paranoid.

Lemme ’splain — I work from home now. I still work for the same company that’s out in L.A. but now I do it from the comfort of my basement. And the comfort of my shorts and T-shirts.
But I do have a “commute” of sorts. I drive the girls to daycare every morning. And then I come home. About 3 and 1/2 miles round trip. And each day, I drop off L.A. Toddler and L.A. Baby in their respective classrooms. And I’m not the only dad bringing in kids either. In fact, about half of the dropoffs seem to be loving, doting fathers. Which is cool.

What’s not cool are the looks I get. You know the ones. The “I’m wearing a suit and tie and you’re not” looks. Again, I might just be seeing things, but it sort of bothers me. I think I can see what a lot of stay at home dads might be facing. I’ve heard some horror stories.

For fun, I’ve really let myself go. I now wear wrinkled shirts, filled with holes, and flip-flops. I don’t even pretend to comb my hair. I don’t shave for days. It’s fun. The looks I get now are just above the ones they’d probably give to a bum on the street.

But lately, I’ve noticed a change. Be it ever so slight. And, again, it’s probably just me… But I keep passing these same guys in their pin-striped, buttoned-down, pleated and pressed, Windsor-knotted uniforms and the small sneers are gone. The up-turned noses don’t go so high anymore. They don’t clutch their children as hard when I pass them.

I think they’ve noticed a few things. They see the smile on my face each morning, which they never have. They see my truck with the “L.A. Daddy” license plate and guess that there may have been good times in my past. And I can obviously afford daycare for the girls, so…. it means only one thing.

I’m a kept-man.

Once again. It could just be me. But now I don’t see as much disgust as I see a longing. Maybe a little part of them wants to lounge around, sipping cocktails, watching SportsCenter, and eating pastrami sandwiches all day (which is, coincidentally, exactly how it is to work at home… dontchya know?)

Some of the ladies who teach the girls in their classrooms aren’t so sure of me either. One asked, “So, what do you do?” And the emphasis was on the first “do” — that type of query that could only mean one thing (”You don’t have a job, do you?”)

Again, for fun, I told her “I fit prosthetic limbs on men injured in small combine accidents. There wasn’t much call for that in Los Angeles, so I moved here.” And then I left the room. I’m quite sure a mouth was hanging open.

The next day, she moved in close to me and asked, “Really? Seriously?” I smiled and shook my head. “No. I’m independently wealthy. I play sit around the house ordering cooking utensils online and playing Metal Gear Solid on the Playstation. I just don’t like kids very much, so I bring them here to the daycare.”

She laughed. Briefly. She was embarrassed that she did. I winked at her and left.

She’s still not quite sure. I think.

But it could just be me.

It’s official. I’m actually quite sick of the word “green” now.

It’s not that I don’t firmly believe in the practices of reuse, reduce, and recycle. I’m just sick of the word.

Everyone and their mother and their mother’s mother seems to be using it now. And it’s going to do more harm than good.

However, I am curious about what you folks think. As I’ve been preparing to buy and renovate a house to make it and my family more eco-friendly and Earth-conscious, I’ve been mulling a few concepts and asking myself some questions.

What I want to know is… are you green? Do you consider yourself green? Do you embrace, espouse, or follow any green behavior? (Yes… there’s that nasty word again… )

If not - why?

If so, what do you want to change to do more?

Do you think being green has any affect?

Curious George-type minds want to know… As I talk to people, I’m starting to get a sense of a wall being built up between what people want to do and how to go about doing it. It’s hard to put a finger on, but I’d say that it’s… not a fear of the unknown. But maybe it’s a fear of change. A fear of assuming guilt.

If you start thinking about being green, acting more green… will you feel more guilty about not doing enough? Will the knowledge of how bad things are weigh you down?

It could be that “green” conjures up images of all those ultra-left wing, liberal, hippy feelings that the tree-huggers might have. I don’t know.This is sort of a stream-of-consciousness sorta thing. I don’t have any answers. But I am wondering what others are thinking about this (if at all…)

Let me know what’s going through that pretty head of yours.

How can you get in to see my children? How can you pay a visit to these delightful, darling girls? Apparently, the price of admission is a gift of some sort.

That must be what my mother thinks.

Now that we’re in Ohio, she’s only a few miles away. I’m sure if she had it her way she would be here every night and twice on Sunday. But she knows enough to give us some space.

When she does come to visit, she brings presents for the girls. Every time. In fact, she has even called to say that she has gifts that she needs to drop off… but that she’s not going to stay.

I know that it’s the grandparent’s job to spoil the shit out of the grandchildren. That’s what they do. But then I thought she was using the whole gift thing as an excuse to “pop over for a visit.”  When she dropped off some Fourth of July clothes and didn’t stick around to see them on, I knew something was up.

Today, it finally hit me — she’s not spoiling, or creating excuses… she’s buyin’ some love.

I think she’s worried. When grandma would come to visit out in California - it was a big deal. We would announce her arrival weeks in advance. We’d make a special trip to the airport to pick her up. We’d do fun things around L.A. whenever she was there. And she was only there a few times so it was always a special occasion for L.A. Toddler.

It’s possible that because she can swing by at any time she might feel like it has to be a special occasion every time. I tried to tell her she didn’t have to keep buying them stuff. They have all the crap they will need at this point. But she said it was nothing. “I’ve got a right to spoil my babies!” she exclaimed.

Then… she dropped this bomb request - “Can I have L.A. Toddler stay overnight at my house? Just for one night?” She’s still doing physical therapy for her latest replacement knee and she wants the Tasmanian Devil in for a sleepover? Really?!

I can just picture it. In the morning, when L.A. Toddler, wakes… my mom will have set up the Christmas tree and surrounded it with a boatload of goodies. How can you not fall head over heels for someone who brings you Christmas in July?!!

This from the same woman who bought all my Christmas presents and then gave me a few of those early because my birthday happened to be in December…

So, the house hunting continues.

We missed out on getting that first house by less than three thousand dollars. The house had been foreclosed on by HUD and everyone had to submit a bid and you only had one shot.

This week, I set up viewings at two other houses. On Thursday, we saw two houses… and that set up our dilemma. The first house that we looked at needed a lot of work.

The next house we saw was much more complete.

But it was at the upper end of our price range. The next house we saw is also a real bargain but needed just as much work as the first one.

I’m an HGTV and DIY channel junkie. I’ve been itching to work on my own house for more years than I can count. The thought of gutting a house and doing it all my way from scratch is a dream come true. However, as I mentioned, I also want to spend a lot of time and money making a truly “green” house.

So, do we buy a house very cheap that needs mucho work (and money!) but will cut into a lot of my green systems? Or, do we buy a house that is more finished but that is more expensive? The cheap house will require money that will go to all the basic stuff. We can make it our own home and we can do it slowly, room-by-room. But my time and energy and money will be taken up… by not really helping the environment and helping to get us “off the grid” - which is more fun for me. And the finished house will cost us more on a monthly basis, but I can focus on solar power, water conservation, improved air quality, and energy savings - which is more fun for the planet.

And we’re going to look at another one of those more “finished” and more expensive type houses on Sunday. The nice thing is that there are a lot of choices in the area we want to live in. There are at least 40 homes for sale within 2 miles. Prices are still coming down, too.

In fact, on the one finished house that we saw on Thursday, we found out that the homeowner will give us $3500 toward carpeting that would be installed before we close and we could even pick it out. And if we put in an offer, it’s possible we could get a really good deal.

So our dilemma may not be such a dilemma after all. We got time to decide, as well. We still have 4 months on our 6-month lease. But I’m worried that mortgage rates will really start to climb soon. I’d hate to end up spending more just for waiting a few months.

We’ll see. But while the whole house hunting process is pretty fun, I’m still itching to get to work.

So, it’s official.

We’re now looking for a house.

It was one of our biggest reasons for moving back to Ohio. Sure, we wanted the girls to be close to the grand parental units and we wanted them to have really good schools. But… let’s be honest. We wanted a big freakin’ house with more bathrooms than anyone should ever need. I mean, let’s face it — if I’ve got to live with 3 women, I’m going to need more bathrooms.

Well, last night, we did our first visit to a house for sale.

I found a place on Craigslist that was literally around the corner from the townhouse we’re renting. I got the address from the agent, rode my motorcycle over to see it, and took some pictures. I reported back to L.A. Mommy and told her about it. We made an appointment to come by at 7pm.

We have friends that live extremely close to this house, too. Our friend walked over with her daughter to view the house with us. They say real estate is all about location and this house is perfectly located. It’s in an area where we want to live. And, now, our girls’ daycare is here and they’re getting settled in. We’ve joined an incredibly nice gym and it’s just down the street. Plus, our friends live around the corner.

The other great thing about this house? There is no house across the street — there’s only the sports fields of the area middle school. And the elementary school is right next door to the middle school. How cool is that?! The girls “walk to school” would be to simply walk across the street! Of course, in the winter, even walking across the street can be a struggle…

So, I know you’re never supposed to go with the first house you see, but… man, this one works. The other really nice thing? This is a house in foreclosure and we’d be getting for almost fifty thousand less than the appraised value.

The house isn’t perfect. It does need some work. But I don’t really want a “finished” house. I want a house I can work on. I want things to fix, things to remodel and improve.

Which brings me to my next venture…

I’ve really been “going green” in the L.A. Daddy household. I work for a company that matches contractors to home owners called ConstructionDeal.com. As I’ve been doing research for a company blog I write, I’ve realized that I wanted to buy a home and renovate it to make it more eco-friendly. It’s fast becoming not something we should do but something we have to do.

So, I wanted to create another blog that documents my green remodeling project in our new home. It will take a lot of time, energy, and money. And, if I’m involved, mistakes will be made. But I want to make a difference. For me, for my girls, for my grandchildren, and great grandchildren. And, if you have kids… for them as well.

I want to show how it doesn’t have to be a tremendous struggle. I want to give tips for people to try to make these changes in their own homes. And I want to give some motivation for people to step out and try to tackle these problems along with me and countless others.

The site will be called Eco-Remodelers at EcoRemodelers.com. It’s not up yet, but hopefully within the next week. It will document the L.A. Family’s greening of an existing home to do our part to help the environment and reduce our carbon footprint. And I want it all - I want solar power, tankless water heating, composting, cisterns for rain water, with reclaimed wood flooring, low-flow toilets, skylights for natural lighting, low/no VOC paints, and much more.

It’s going to be an adventure and I hope I can make a difference.

I send off my request for a personalized license plate… and this is what they send me:

What I REALLY wanted it to say was: “EHRF 5007″

The DMV always screws me over! Bastards…

Oh, well. I guess I’ll just have to live with it.

While standing in line at the grocery store today, I saw what was probably the most useless book ever written.

Other than The Secret, of course.

It was called The Idiot’s Guide to NASCAR.

Now, why would you need a book for idiots for an activity where all the fans are–?

Well, you know what I mean.

- When the only foreign car you see is the one you’re driving.

- When every person working out at the gym is wearing the same Ohio State Buckeyes T-shirt.

- When ever you see a Buick ahead of you, you’d better not be in any hurry.

Okay, I guess I must stop and explain the last one… When I was a kid, all the old folks used to go down South for the winter. We called ‘em Snow Birds. I’m pretty sure it’s still the case. They go down to Florida or Arizona in November and come back up in Spring.

Well… they’re back.

And driving slower than ever. The odd thing about living in L.A. is that there are no old people. None. It’s like Logan’s Run but for people over 65. Where do they go? Farther south? Habla Espanol?

But there’s now a whole army of ‘em here in Columbus. And… every single one is driving a Buick. Just like there isn’t a person over 40 who didn’t get stoned in some basement to side one of Boston’s first album, there isn’t an old fogey here without a LeSabre.

And for most of the precious blue-haired beauties — getting those baby blue Buicks into 2nd or possibly (gasp!) 3rd gear seems totally out of the question.

But who am I to complain? I have no commute… Well, actually, I do. It’s turning out that I’m the one who is taking the girls into daycare every morning. And I’m usually the one who picks them up. So, I kinda do have somewhat of a drive each day.

It’s not a great distance to their school, either. Just a few short miles. But each morning, an army of senior citizens pile into their Park Avenues and sit outside our townhouse complex. And they wait. They wait for me to drive my shiny pickup truck out onto the streets. And they park their boney, wrinkled butts in front of me and drive 12 miles per hour the whole way to the school and the whole way back.

But… you know what? Every day, I miss L.A. a bit. Not too much. I don’t think it’s really sunk in yet that we’re gone.

And this is just like living back in Los Angeles… Going a very short distance and taking an incredibly large amount of time to drive it in.

So, thanks old people! Thank you, you Buick drivers! Thanks for curing those homesick blues!