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?

I wish I still had the imagination I had when I was a kid.

I watch my little girls play with their toys and they step into a whole other world that only they can see. And I’m jealous. Because I could remember when I used to be able to do that.

Oh, sure - you can pretend that you can still pretend, but you really can’t. Or most people can’t anyway. Time, life, reality, school, work, family, friends, enemies… they all beat it out of you. I’ve become too practicable, too sensible, to really “let go” like a kid does.

A pile of Tinkertoys or a collection of wood blocks can be anything to children. We could easily sit and build a tower with those blocks, but we won’t see all the things they can imagine.

But I guess it’s okay. We all got to do those things as kids and we have great memories of all the places our imaginations took us. I remember a set of moving boxes was a space ship that sent me across our solar system. And the Star Wars action figures that gave me more adventures for Luke Skywalker and Han Solo as I waited for the next movie to come out.

Our internal editor starts to kick in and help us become “mature adults”, I suppose. That editor that tells us we’re not that good at singing so we’d better shut the hell up. And that editor that reminds us we dance like total dorks so we’d better sit down. And if you dare try to draw a picture — you’d better stay within those lines, mister!

The lack of play and the loss of imagination is one reason I see so many unhappy people. I can’t tell the number of times I’ve looked around at people’s faces in their cars, in the grocery stores, and even in restaurants where they look so sad and tired and stressed out. But every once in a while, I’ll look over and see one girl, in her car, by herself, singing at the top of her lungs to some song on her iPod.

And I think, she remembers what it was like to be a kid.

It’s okay to be envious of our kids. They’re doing what we used to do and they’re having the time of their lives. They just don’t know it yet. I’m going to try to be more imaginative with my kids - throw that internal editor out - and see what they’re seeing. Or maybe even describe to them what my imagination is giving to me.

And while I try to do that, I’m going to make sure I smile and laugh and sing when I’m out in public. Just in case someone is looking around and wondering why everyone else is so sad…

It’s overrated.

I do admit it, though. I want to be 18 years old again. I want a do-over.

It’s not that I’m not proud of all I’ve done and what I’ve got and who I am. I really am. I’ve had a great time.

But it doesn’t mean I don’t want a do-over…

My message to my children is what a lot people will probably tell them over the years - “don’t grow up too fast.” And it’s true. My problem was that it was never about the journey, it was always about the destination. I know that’s not how you’re supposed to  do it, but… it’s how I am.

But with a do-over, I could slow down and enjoy the ride. It was a really good ride, too. I’d like to see it all again.

And know that this will never, ever actually happen, but… I can dream.

I can dream of a time when I didn’t hear “Snap, Crackle & Pop” every single time I bend over. Back when I didn’t have to watch what I eat or drink or whatever made me merry. I just was. And it was nice.

Even though I’m writing this and being cranky as ever, I have been following my own advice. I don’t ever recommend that anyone stop growing up. I just recommend that they don’t get old. I knew some twenty-year-olds back in the day that were already old. And I’ve known some senior citizens who were younger than I am.

I’ve been in a funk lately. Kind of depressed and stressed and feeling worn out. And today I finally figured it out. I had started to get old. It’s been a while since I laughed out loud. Since I got down on the floor and gave the girls horsey rides. Since I danced like the idiot I am. It’s been a while since I acted like I was 18 years old again.

Maybe I can’t have a do-over, but I should definitely adjust that mindset. I can pretend. Just a little. It sucks that I have to do this sort of thing. But you’re only 18 once and I had my chance.That will set me right and get me back on track.
What do you do to feel like a kid again?

Happy New Year!

My oldest daughter, L.A. Girl, is in kindergarten. But this is not your father’s kindergarten. Hell, it’s certainly not MY kindergarten either.

One of the reasons we moved from California to Ohio was the school systems here. I had always heard so many horror stories about the schools in L.A. and really didn’t want my girls to go through any of that nonsense. I want them to have the best education possible and knew this was the place to be.

And the school system where we live is one of the best in the state. So I’m pretty sure they’re in good hands.

How good? Well, maybe a little too good. Maybe. I’m helping my five year old daughter prepare for an oral presentation on Canada. It must be three to four minutes in length. And she must have visual aids.

When I was in kindergarten, I played with blocks.

See the difference? Sheesh! An oral presentation in kindergarten? I suppose she’ll have to complete her Ph.D. dissertation by the fifth grade?! I ran around in circles and rammed my head into walls at her age. I didn’t have to stand up in front of a class and give a freakin’ speech!

Is it too much for a five year old? Some say, “Hey, let ‘em be kids for a while longer!” And others say, “They need to be prepared earlier and earlier and need to know so much more.” What do I say? I’m a bit torn. I like it and I don’t. But I’m leaning more toward liking it, I guess.

When I was going through school, I had good and bad experiences. Good and bad teachers. I learned a lot and I was borerd out of my skull. It’s the boredom I’m the most worried about for my girls. Being bored in school can get you into a lot of trouble. And I was usually in trouble all the time. I think my elementary school principal had my mom’s number on speed dial.

I certainly wasn’t anything special in school but I did need more challenges. I guess I sort of became the class clown as I got older because I was so bored in so many classes. I even had two different teachers try to get my mom to have me skip a grade in school - but my mom refused. She didn’t want me to be too far ahead of friends, or something.

By the time I went to college, I had been phoning it in for so long through high school that I was in for a rude shock. I actually had to work! How dare they! I quickly adjusted and ended up on the dean’s list by the time I graduated college. But looking back on it, I can see now that I needed more when I was a kid.

So, I guess it’s okay that my daughter is giving speeches to the kids in her kindergarten class. Maybe she needs to be challenged to keep her on her toes. To keep her from getting bored.

I mean, she’s already reading. She’s starting to write. She’s even started on addition and subtraction. At 5. When I was that age, I think picking snot balls out of my nose was the most challenging part of my day.

“I had a terrible education. I attended a school for emotionally disturbed teachers.” - Woody Allen

Damn, I’m old. And I feel every bit of my 29 years. Or was it 39? Oh, no… it’s more than that. But I’m still pretty!

A lot has been going on. I’m about to make my annual trip back to Los Angeles. I’m flying out on Tuesday for work and our holiday party. It’s going to be a busy week as I catch up with my co-workers (some who I’ve never even met yet!) and with my old L.A. friends.

On Monday morning, my youngest (who just turned 2), hit another milestone. I got her out of bed to take her to daycare and noticed her diaper was completely dry. It’s something she does quite often so I took her into her bathroom and put her on her training potty. She sat there for a few minutes and finally she let it all come out. And there was a lot. The look of surprise on her face was priceless - her mouth was a big O and her eyes were as wide as they could be.

But, being the idiot I am, I couldn’t have let this perfect moment go by without screwing something up. I pulled the top off the training potty to dump it in the toilet. With my other hand, I put up the toilet seat… but didn’t put it up all the way. When I went to dump it, the toilet seat came crashing back down. It slapped the training potty and splashed pee all over the poor child and the bathroom floor.

She looked at me the way my wife’s mother used to look at me. The “stink eye.” The kind of look that burns a hole in your soul. I quickly dunked her in the bath and scrambled to get the floor cleaned up before all that pee sunk into the floor tiles. My fear is that she’ll think that every time you have to take a piss, you need to dump it on yourself and then take a bath…

And now for something completely different…
In time for the holidays, I managed to get my Christmas lights up this past weekend. This was my first time - ever - to hang lights on a two-story house.

I pulled out my four-hundred pound ladder and dragged it over to the side of our house. I managed to get into quite a groove and got the side of the house done. But I was really worried about hanging the lights up on the front, where the roof goes up to its highest peak.

I knew the ladder was shorter than this peak, but I’m also 6′3″ with really long oranguatan arms and knew I could reach. But it meant putting the ladder up as far as it would go. And I was worried.

You see, I’m every bit of 260 pounds so I had to buy a special “husky boy” ladder that would hold up to 300 lbs. But I didn’t really trust extending it all the way out and climbing up on it. I was quite sure it would snap in half when I got all the way up. But being the stubborn old mule that I am, I powered through.

I went up very slowly. Very. And still the thing bounced like a kids jumper at a birthday party.

Stretching out, I got the Christmas lights onto the peak and carefully climbed down. I had done it! I didn’t fall! I didn’t die in a freak “husky boy” ladder incident that would have surely been on the evening news! (I had told my wife to sue the ladder manufacturer had such an incident occurred…)

But when I got down, I had still had a problem. The ladder was extended beyond my reach and it was going to be impossible to get it back down to earth… So, being the idiot that I am, I tried anyway.

I started to pull the ladder away from the house, rung by rung, hoping to be able to strong-arm it back down to the ground. But once it was over my head, I quickly realized I was over my head. It swayed and bucked and then pulled up some grass and finally… it toppled over.

Onto me.

All four hundred pounds of “husky boy” ladder fell on my face.

I’m quite sure every one of my neighbors were home and saw this comical catastrophe. But none came out to help. For fear of me being too embarrassed and losing even more face. Literally. But I’m okay. I’m a stubborn old mule. Besides, it only hurts when I breathe…

Happy Holidays!

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Here’s my latest short film!

Every year, I complain about how soon they roll out the Christmas season. Many others join me in whining about how eager the stores are to put out their decorations and how soon the commercials start.

This year, they’re at it again. The Holiday Season is in full swing, several weeks before Thanksgiving. Some were advertising the yuletide merriment before Halloween…

Yes, it’s getting crazy. I’m already seeing the commercials for crappy heart-shaped jewelry, cars with big red bows on top, and cheap perfume. The radio station that plays Christmas songs 24/7? That started here at the beginning of November. And for the past two weeks, I’ve been watching people put up (AND turn on) their Christmas lights on their homes.

On Saturday, I saw someone driving home with their freshly cut tree on top of their car! Five weeks before the big day! By the time Christmas gets here, their tree will be nothing but a pile of brown bristles on the living room carpet…

But then I got to thinking about everything.

This has been a tough year on a lot of people. The economy is down but most people I know have kept their jobs. And they are bombarded by news of foreclosures, job losses, and failing 401Ks. The security blanket is gone and people have been on edge for a long time.

I think people needed Christmas a little earlier this year. They wanted to feel comforted by the thoughts of Santa Claus, and sparkling icicle lights, and a big green wreath hanging on the door.  Even the thought of Thanksgiving doesn’t do it - people needed the big holiday to bring them around and make them feel secure again. Make them smile.

Even if, come January, they realize the Christmas season wasn’t as glamorous or romantic as they thought it would be, I bet it will give most the drive to carry on.

So… I guess it really is okay if Christmas comes a little early this year. Just don’t get used to it. I like to look forward to Thanksgiving without being surrounded by Christmas cheer.

I don’t usually like to do the promotional giveaway stuff, but this one hit close to my heart, so… I had to.

Recently, L.A. Girl and I watched all the Star Wars movies. The original three great ones and the three more recent steaming piles of crap. She LOVED them. Absolutely fell for the characters and stories and action - - as much as I did when I was a kid.

She even ordered a Star Wars: Clone Wars episode book from her school book fair. All on her own. I even broke out the old Star Wars action figures of mine from thirty years ago. She plays with them every day.

So, when the editors of Klutz told me about their new book - Draw Star Wars: The Clone Wars book - I jumped at the chance. They sent me a copy and my daughter has been following the steps inside and drawing the characters. It comes with pencils, pens, an eraser, tracing paper and blank paper all inside the book.

It’s filled with tips and techniques on how to draw. It’s got overlays that allow you to trace the pictures. And there are instructions on how to draw about 20 characters from The Clone Wars movies and series.

If your kid likes to draw, then this book will really knock their socks off. And, I’m even giving away a few of them! I’ve got 5 copies of the book for anyone interested!All you have to do to enter… is draw me a picture of a a Star Wars character and email it to me! It’s that easy.

Why do I go to the trouble for a promotion like this?It’s simple. When I was a kid, probably in fifth grade, I had a good friend give me a great book…

I loved to draw. I was drawing stuff all the time. And I really loved to read comic books. I read Spiderman and The Avengers and Iron Man and all those great Marvel titles. Still have all of them. And I was always trying to draw them but I never could do it well.

My friend gave me this book called How to Draw Comics the Marvel Way. And I was instantly addicted.

It was my bible. With it, I learned to draw the comic book characters I loved so much. And I was able to make my own comic books. It even helped make me a better artist overall.

And, so… I wanted to pass a bit of that along. If even one kid gets one of these books and turns his or her passion on for art and drawing and painting, well then, I guess I’ve passed on some of that same joy I had when I was young.

Help me give away a few of these books for Christmas. Send me your best R2-D2 or Obi Wan Kenobi drawing! Snap a photo, download it, and email it to tim (at) ladaddy (dot) com!

You have until November 30th!
(You must be a resident of the U.S. or, if you’re international, you need a friend with a U.S. address I can send it to…)

Additional links to check out to find out more about the book -

http://www.facebook.com/KlutzBooks

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XsTVWN7bsiI

Last night, I took my daughter to the movies.

It wasn’t her first trip to the multiplex - she say a Hannah Montana movie with her classmates on a field trip with her daycare. But it was her “first trip with my family”, she told me.

There were a couple of animated movies showing but I wanted to take a chance on one of my favorite books as a kid and see the adaptation of Where the Wild Things Are.  And by take a chance, I mean that I’ve read a few of reviews and heard a lot of criticism about the film being too scary.

I had thought about preparing her for it, just in case it was really bad. And I half-expected we might have to leave it early if it was too much. But I decided to not tell her anything and make her worry about it - if it was scary, it was scary and I didn’t want to plant the notion in her head.

After about 40 commercials and ten trailers, after which my daughter exclaimed, “When are they gonna show the movie? Sheesh!”, we finally got started.

And…

It was a really good film. And it didn’t seem scary in the least. More importantly, it was scary to L.A. Girl. There was a point, about two-thirds through where she was a little restless but the story picked back up with a “dirt clod fight” and she was back in the world created by Spike Jonze and Maurice Sendak.

It was true to the story, even though it was an hour and a half film about a ten page book. And the most amazing thing to me were the Wild Things. Simply brilliant. They seemed like they were alive. You could see them… acting despite being a body suit/costume and computer graphic expressions. The kid was the character of Max - just like I would have pictured him as a real kid - and did a great job.

I really enjoyed it and we had a great time on our little date. We went out to dinner afterward and then back home to mom and sister. Hopefully, it’s the first of many trips to the movies with my daughters.