I guess there’s still time. You know, to make some resolutions I should have made. The big ones. The serious ones. The ones that didn’t make the cut. Because I resolved to do little things instead. Like drink more carrot smoothies or not blame my daughter for the cookie crumbs I left on the kitchen counter. (In my defense, it’s a 50-50 shot they’re hers!) But I go with the easy ones. Don’t you? There’s still time, though. Time to resolve to do the big ones, like these: • Click on fewer “Star Wars: The Force Awakens” blog posts with theories about the movie. I’m a child of “Star Wars,” which means I’ve been totally hooked on the new film. Addicted is more like it. If anything comes up on the computer with “Star Wars” on it — “What kind of underwear do First Order stormtroopers wear?” — I click on it. And suddenly two days of my life are gone and I have a Jed-length beard. I need to realize it will be two years before the next movie and that no one on the Internet can tell me if Rey’s dad is really Chewbacca. No more links! • Stop looking for new house projects. Every time I finish a major job around the house, I commend myself for a bad job done poorly and pledge to never take on another do-it-yourself disaster AGAIN. This pledge lasts all of 13 seconds before I notice some wood rot and think, “Hmm, maybe I should […]
The kid grows up
“Have I grown up?” my daughter asked me a couple of nights before Christmas … and her birthday. It was a serious question, asked in a serious voice. She sounded like she wanted to know if the end of the year was a good time to buy stocks, or if El Niño was going to make the oceans rise faster. We had been watching old Christmas morning videos. How odd to say “old.” Because there should be nothing old about them — she’s still just a kid. Yet, they were labeled strange years, long in the past: 2009, 2010, 2012 … And the kid in the video was nearly unrecognizable. In one, she was missing all of her front teeth. “Did you get in a bar fight?” I asked. “You look like a hockey player!” And her voice in some didn’t sound like the little girl sitting in front of the computer. “Yep, that was my little kid accent,” she said. “I’m not sure when that went away.”
The Christmas panic shopping guide
The little sign reached out and smacked me upside the head: “14 days to Christmas,” it proclaimed. Unwritten and invisible to all but me were these words: “This jerkface hasn’t started Christmas shopping yet. He’s doomed!” Wow, Christmas countdowns have gotten mean this year. But it was right. Two weeks out and I was desperate. In trouble. Possibly ruined. How had this happened? How could this be? Christmas is supposed to be the season of giving. I had turned it into the season of goofing off. And at that moment, the Christmas Shopping Panic set in.
A year of thanksgiving
“It puts it all in perspective doesn’t it.” A friend told me this as we swapped stories about loved ones dealing with health issues. How it can be tough and overwhelming. Draining. How you can lose sight of how good you’ve had it. How you’re never quite cognizant of all you should be thankful for. At least not all year. Usually on a day dressed with turkey and family gathered around, like the one we just had. But why not ALL year? That’s the lesson I’ve learned from helping my mother through her medial problems the past several months — take nothing for granted. Appreciate simple moments. Don’t let the little stuff eat at you. Always give thanks for what you have. Put it all in perspective. So, three days after our “official” Thanksgiving, it’s not too late to take stock and give a little more thanks. Call it is a Thanksgiving Day resolution to do it all year.
The Thanksgiving survival checklist
It is a place only the bravest dare enter. Littered with hidden dangers, psychological pitfalls, and pressures that will turn coal into diamonds, then back into coal. Many strong men and women have never returned, lost their minds, lost everything. It is not for the faint of heart. The weak. The inexperienced. It is … hosting Thanksgiving. And it is upon us. I will have 10 family members, a toddler and an undetermined quantity of dogs/critters this holiday. Am I ready? There is no “ready.” It’s more like what astronauts experience when blasting into space: buckle up, hold on and try not to wet your pants. So with that, I bring you a Thanksgiving survival checklist that may help you prepare for your own hosting: • Study great battles from history. Understand strategy and what led to conflict. Know that the best laid plans never survive the first argument over a drumstick. Realize that diplomacy is for fools on Thanksgiving. Family members come wound-up and ready to tangle on all kinds of subjects. Make sure the butter knives are always duller than the conversation. • Know when to lie. It’s called Thanksgiving, not Honesty-giving. Like when your aunt wants to know if you would like to see her 3,200 pictures from a recent trip to Duluth. At moments like these, it is OK to offer little white lies like: “Oh my gosh! I would love to, but I hear the stuffing percolating.”
The Halloween flight
This is not what you want to hear on the news the night before you fly out of Austin, Texas, so you can get home in time to take your kid trick or treating: “Today’s storm was one of the worst we’ve seen in Texas … houses flooded … roads washed out … people climbing trees to escape the floodwaters … 14 inches of rain fell at the airport … air traffic control tower damaged … check your flights … expect delays … It’s Halloween. You’re DOOMED!!! MUHAHAHA!” Commence panic attack. I was at a conference in Austin and had lined up a flight early enough on Halloween to get back for the candy run. My daughter turns 10 this Christmas and you never know how many Halloweens you have left. So I had to be there. This meant getting out of the hotel by 5:45 a.m. Getting through security quick. Avoiding delays. Praying for good weather. Making a connecting flight in Houston. Flying like we had a mad dog on our tail. And not climbing a tree to escape floodwaters.
Pumpkin carving time
It’s pumpkin carving time — by far one of the most violent, dangerous and disgusting traditions a family will ever undertake. One of the only occasions you will ever hear sweet little children utter phrases like, “OK, dad, now stab it in the face and then rip some more guts out!” I look over at my little daughter and remind myself to sleep with one eye open. Normally I just worry about the large, usually dull knife that I hold in my slippery hand while trying to carve into a slippery pumpkin. I don’t want to be the dad wheeled into the ER with paramedics screaming, “Got another carver with a blade to the femur.” In the past, pumpkins have been simple, rudimentary affairs — big, gaping mouths. A tooth or two. Large, odd-shaped eyes. Maybe a nose — and it’s a big maybe. Young kids don’t hold parents to high expectations when it comes to pumpkin carving. They’re impressed when you can just stomach pulling out pumpkin guts … or don’t stab yourself in the mid-section. But this 9-year-old? I’m not so sure this year. I think I’m going to have to step up my game.
Early Christmas shopping already?
May my daughter not see this. It is mid-September. By my count, at least three months from the holidays. Yet, there is a study out from CreditCards.com that says 14 percent of consumers have already started Christmas shopping. Yes, that means nearly 32 million Americans are buying gifts … in SEPTEMBER!!! I’m aghast. For a couple of reasons. First, it’s still technically summer. And I haven’t finished Christmas shopping … from last year. Then there’s my real concern: the damage it could do to my household. Once upon a time, my daughter was only exposed to toys that advertisers could sneak into commercials she didn’t skip on DVR. Or maybe a catalog that arrived in the mail. Or a toy she saw at a friend’s house. It was limited. Controlled. Filtered. Restrained. But now she’s almost 10, wired into the world and incredibly capable of searching online for toys like some kind of high tech bloodhound. With that power at her fingertips, I can’t afford (financially or from a mental sanity standpoint) the wave of requests that could begin this far out.
Father’s day … Yay me!
Fellow dads, I make this declaration on this immensely important holiday: “WE ROCK!” Yes, it’s Father’s Day. Our day. When eating cheese puffs on the sofa and drinking beer at 9 a.m. is not only permitted, but actually required by law. We are dads! We should celebrate. Sure, we’re not perfect. We mess up our share of stuff. We have no idea how to use the washing machine (believe us, we just don’t understand!), we have shorter attention spans than fruit flies (high school biology taught us they only live .023 seconds,) and … wait a minute … what was I talking about? Anyway, we certainly have our faults. But as fathers extraordinaire, we just as often take one for the team. Not to brag, but take me for instance. I was in the swimming pool with my daughter the other day. She was tossing a tennis ball around with a friend, only the depth made it hard for her to catch and throw.
Big changes with New Year’s resolutions
I’ve never been big on New Year’s resolutions. Never believed in them. Never thought they were worth making. Yet, as 2015 approached, I found myself resolving to make big changes in the New Year. Big ones! So, I thought I would share my list in hopes it might also help loyal readers like you as we embark on this brave New Year. ? Start listening to my wife. Turns out, unbeknownst to me, she knows what she’s talking about. And likes to remind me of this when she’s right. And this is fairly often. And fairly embarrassing. And could be prevented if I just listened… once in a while. Like that Amazon Prime membership that gives us free 2-day shipping. I finally signed up and turns out: It’s awesome! Or the refrigerator with the water dispenser and automatic icemaker. Again: Awesome! But every time I use them I have to hear, “See? Told ya!” Oh, what a little listening would have prevented. ? Do fewer do-it-yourself projects. DIY is so 2014. Let this be the year of do-it-someone-else. Let some other chump climb into the scary attic with all the nails sticking out of the rafters like dragon claws. Let someone else fix un-fixable plumbing leaks and take on terrifying electrical projects that usually involve me wondering if I flipped off the right circuit breaker before slicing through wires. Too many times I’ve told my family, “I’m off to do [insert project name here.] I’ll probably die, so don’t forget […]