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A Look Inside an Exciting, Fun-Filled Week for Daddy

I continue on my way to the dentist. That’s right. I have a dentist appointment. It’s important that I keep my teeth healthy so I can keep eating steak and burgers.

It’s always an exciting time at our house. That happens with four kids in the house and one at college. Sometimes, it’s a little more exciting than Wife and I would like.

Lady resting on sofa and watching tv at home — *Photo by Andres Ayrton on Pexels.com*

Brave daddies and mommies everywhere have rejoiced and thanked the school gods for delivering their children to the Land of Learning for a few hours. This too-brief respite provides pestered parents everywhere a chance to get things done, even if those things include streaming an episode they’ve been wanting to watch for days.

Our domestic roster has children in college, high school, middle school, and elementary school. It’s the educational perfecta of parenting.

I want to give a little insight to the fun we had on one particular week. This was a time of obligations and responsibilities that involved my children. It was days of driving and hustling that made me glad for my CD collection (Yes, I still have CDs).

Monday

We begin our fun-filled week the same way we start every morning. The Oppressed and I walk to the bus stop. This gives us a chance to catch up on things. She asks me what my day has in store for me and what I’m going to do while she is tortured – I mean – in school. She also fills me in on all the drama on the bus and in school. Middle school has opened her eyes to how petty people can be and how they need to share every last detail of something with the people of homeroom and the lunch table. My daughter makes sure she doesn’t miss any details when she’s sharing with me.

Slugger has a doctor’s appointment. It’s a follow-up to a follow-up. I think his doctor is eyeing some investment property up Lake Winnipesaukee. This calls for a little shuffle in the afternoon chores and responsibilities. The appointment means Slugger won’t be taking the bus home. He’s getting out of school early. He doesn’t mind this at all, so he’s willing to suck it up and deal with the small inconvenience in his schedule.

The doctor’s appointment means I won’t be able to pick up The Boy from school. This will cut into our two-minute conversation when we drive home. (The Boy doesn’t allow me to walk). This means The Gaggle steps in and walks him home. They don’t drive. The Boy needs to put on his big-boy pants and hoof it to the house. I’m sure to hear about it when I return home.

Tuesday

Tuesday morning begins with the usual hustle and bustle of getting children up and getting them to the bus stop. After the bus leaves with two of the cherubs, I head back to the house for a few precious minutes of quiet time with the dog before The Boy makes his presence known.

Breakfast. Back upstairs to get dressed. I look a few things over while the child gets ready for his day at school. We arrive at school; the boy departs the car. I continue on my way to the dentist. That’s right. I have a dentist appointment. It’s important that I keep my teeth healthy so I can keep eating steak and burgers.

*A little something from Widowmaker Brewery because I was a good boy at the dentist.*

The weather’s a little iffy. I’m wondering if soccer practice is going to happen for The Boy, but that’s in the afternoon. Right now, I’m focused on making it to the dentist. It’s a successful visit. God bless the hygienist for having Bob Seger playing in the room.

If you’ll just come with me, you’ll see the beauty of Tuesday afternoon.
The Moody Blues

The Boy’s soccer practice was originally scheduled for Tuesday afternoon, but Mother Nature had other plans. We underwent a deluge of rain. It was nice to see the rain given the dry summer we had, but after the game they had on the previous weekend, a practice soon after the game wouldn’t hurt.

Our coach can’t control the weather, though, and the practice is moved to Friday.

Wednesday

girl in white crew neck t shirt writing on white paper — *Photo by cottonbro on Pexels.com*

Wife and I had some quality time together on Wednesday. Our day began at school where we had a meeting for one of our students. Nothing was wrong. They were transferring and everyone wanted to make sure the transition had been a smooth one so far.

Wednesday night meant an Open House at the High School, where I got to meet Slugger’s teachers. Everyone raved about my boy and how much they enjoy having him in their classed. I went home and passed the glad tidings on to Slugger, who responded to the compliments with grunts and shrugs.

Thursday

Thursday was a day of trying to catch up with things around the house. I did the best I could. There were some things to get at the grocery store. People need to eat.

Four kids at four different schools. It’s fun.

It was an interesting day for me. I needed to shop and catch up on things around the house. There always seems to be things that pop up on you when the kids get out of school early. This was one of those times. Luckily, I was able to be back in time to collect the children. They, of course, enjoyed the free afternoon.

Children got home and got through their homework. Once that was complete, it was off to the familiar refuge of YouTube and other assorted screens. I spent the afternoon cooking dinner. I needed to get this done earlier than usual as there was another Open House at another school that evening. Four kids at four different schools. It’s fun.

This time I’m at the elementary school. I get a look at The Boy’s classroom. This is always an interesting and exciting time. It allows me to find out what’s going on while he’s in school enriching his mind and preparing himself as the future of our country. I see his desk. It’s quite the sight to see. I ask him about the desk when I get back that night. He assures me it never looks that bad and it will be taken care of and righted as soon as he sets foot in school tomorrow.

Coronavirus Test

As I’ve said before, it’s been an interesting week. It gets better. There’s been a prescription that’s been waiting to be picked up at the pharmacy. On my way home, I take an opportunity to stop at the pharmacy and pick up the prescription. While I’m on my way to the store, I hear my phone buzzing. I can’t see what’s happening, after all. I’m driving, and it would be irresponsible for me to look at my phone.

Their house isn’t far from where I live, and it means I get to do a little extra driving. Everyone wins.

I get to the store and check my phone immediately upon parking. Friends who live nearby may have a Coronavirus case in the home. There is a call for help. If anyone can spare or find a test kit, these people would be most grateful. The thread soon fills with answers from people seeing what they can do. I write back, informing them I just happen to be at the pharmacy and can pick up a couple of tests for them. Their house isn’t far from where I live, and it means I get to do a little extra driving. Everyone wins.

I end the night with a beer, go to bed, and wake up to Friday. Friday was so exciting it’s getting its own post.

How the Dad fought sickness. How Dad got Better.

(Based on “How the Grinch Stole Christmas” by Dr. Seuss)

Kids in the house had foreheads so hot.
Daddy didn’t like it, no he did not.
He didn’t understand. It was past flu season.
Why are they sick? What could be the reason?

Kids feel like their heads don’t feel right.
Kids feel their noses are too tight.
It’s real bad. The most sickly child of all
Feels like their nose is two sizes too small.

Whatever the problem, the head or the nose,
We’re hating this illness – flu or just colds.

My Kids are Sick

*Tissues in formation for*
*sickly people in need.*

Seeing them in bed, their sad little frowns.
Everyone’s sick. The sickest family in town.
I knew every child, downstairs and up,
all were sick. Just please don’t throw up.

“They’re running a fever,” I said with some gloom,
Wondering why the littles must be in my room.
Then I thought with paranoia nervously running,
How do I prevent my own illness from coming?

One day soon, I knew, being this close to kids
Breathing on me, would put my own health on the skids.
And then! Oh, the coughing, the sneezing, the noise.
Noise, Noise, Noise!

Who would cook the wife’s and children’s great feasts?
Cajun recipes, exotic dishes, upon which to feast.
FEAST, FEAST, FEAST!
Who would make them their food, their lovely grilled meats?
It was something this Daddy couldn’t stand in the least.

I know they’ll do something I like least of all.
Every kid in this house, the tall and the small,
Will come one-by-one like Christmas bells ringing
They’ll stand at my bed like fallen angels singing
And they’ll say there’s no clothes, and, “I’m hungry, Dad.”
DAD, DAD, DAD!
And the more I thought of these needy kids,
I knew I must put being sick on the skids.
For two weeks I’ve put up with coughing and fits.
I must find a way to end all of it.

Dad isn’t Feeling Well

Then I got a feeling. An awful feeling.
Daddy got a terrible, awful feeling.
Whatever shall I do? What’s this in my throat?
I’m walking around with medicine in my coat!

*Cough drops come in handy for the coughing*
*and scratchy throat.*

I sniffled and coughed. This isn’t fun.
Another symptom for me, and I will be done.
All I need is green tea and I will be hopping
But green tea was scarce because no one was shopping.
Do we have any juice? “No,” children said.
I’ll drink me some water, then off to bed.

I went under the covers with a stuffy head.
The next day I drove the kids to their school.
Then back home stumbling like a fool.
I opened the window for a little fresh air.
The state of the kitchen gave me a scare.
I’ll close my eyes first, then see what’s down there.

I tucked myself in. My eyelids went down.
The dirtiest house, now the sickest in town.
But Wife soon went shopping. Green tea filled the air.
Daddy needed tea, sherbet, and care.

Dad still Fights Sickness

I faced another day in bed. Can’t leave there.

My throat was scratchy, my stuffy nose hissed.
I rolled over in bed, tissues in fist.
I slid out of bed, went into the kitchen
and grabbed some of that green tea I was missin’.

Water boiling, I sat for a moment or two.
Hoping to myself that it’s not the flu.
Tea bag in cup. Hot water flows.
“This illness,” I said, “Has just got to go.”
I slithered back in bed, feeling most unpleasant.
Kids sick in the past. I’m sick in the present.
Sudafed, Nyquil, hot tea with honey.
Cough drops and Gatorade; It’s really not funny.

Tissues and boxes in trash bags so nimbly.
Multiple bags filled one-by-one, by Jiminy.
I’m just having fruit and sherbet and teas.
No mashed potatoes. I can’t have roast beast!

Watch Daddy Take Care of Himself

I cleaned out that icebox of juices and fruits.
Why, I even took some iced tea to boot!
Then I drank all of my juice up with glee.
“And NOW,” grinned Daddy, “I will catch me some Z’s!”
So, I climbed into bed, and I’m ready to snore,
And I heard the small sound of one kid, maybe more.
I raised my head fast; I saw a young kid.
The Oppressed, who wanted to know what I did.
I had been caught by my youngest daughter
Who wanted to see if I wanted some water.

Daughter Loves her Dad

She stared at me and said, “Daddy, why”
“Why are you stuck in your bed? WHY?”
But, you know, this daddy is smart, though he’s sick.
I gave her my answer. I thought of it quick.
“Why, my sweet little tot,” The sick daddy told,
“Daddy’s got sniffles, a headache, and cold”
“I’m taking it easy in my bedroom, my dear.”
“I’m getting some rest and recovery here.”

My daughter heard the answer. I patted her head.
She brought me a drink as I went to bed.
And when The Oppressed left me with my cup,
I took me a nap with my nose still stuffed up.
Then the last thing I did before closing my eyes
Was wish to be better, then exhaled a sigh.
And the one little sound that I heard in the house
Was Kitty’s tail swishing as she tracked down a mouse.

I was feeling the same as my kids felt before:
Achy and tired and sniffling and sore.
Whatever the time, I know teens still a-bed.
Some kids are out playing. At least I’m not dead.

Dad is Doing Everything he Can

Tucked under blankets with meds and green tea,
along with the fruit and hot tea with honey.
Plenty of food and medicine ingested,
I just need to feel healthy and rested.
“Pooh-pooh to all this,” I was grumbly humming,
“This is how my kids were succumbing.
“If could wake up feeling fresh and anew,
“I could play catch for a minute or two
“Then the boy could go out and get fresh air, too.”

That is fun that this daddy simply MUST have.
Daddy rested, pulling blankets to his face
Hearing nothing, not a sound in the place.
My snores started slow, then started to grow.
I suppose it did, ‘cuz my wife told me so.
I slept and I snored, then I drank some more juice
and after days of suffering, I shook my illness loose.

Dad Feels Better. Dad Feels Good!

I woke up one day, popped open my eyes.
I could eat solid food, what a pleasant surprise!
We had all gotten better. The tall and the small
Were functioning. I could watch the boy hit the ball!
Homework had stopped, then restarted. It CAME!
I cooked meals no one ate. It was back to the same.
And Daddy resumed duties of the day,
Driving his youngest children to school both ways.
I can cook food and clean, and pick up the clothes.
I don’t need to worry ’bout this runny nose.
And I puzzled for hours, and puzzled some more.
I was happy to feel as I had felt before.
I was happy to be well, not feeling sore.

And I can now do a little, and a little bit more.
And what happens next? Well, like they say,
my sinuses had grown three sizes those days (they do say that).
And now my head doesn’t feel so tight.
I start my workload at first morning light.
I’m picking up toys, and I’m cooking feasts.
That’s great! I, myself, love me roast beast!

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A Great Cup of Coffee to Start Your Morning

A gif of a cup being filled with coffee. — *My daily perk*

We all have our morning routines. If you’re like me, your routine includes a cup of coffee. Coffee helps me face the day and the challenges that come with it. It helps me wake up and I like to have something nice to drink when I am writing, reading, and/or editing.

I make coffee first thing in the morning. I am usually the first one up, but sometimes, The Oppressed or The Boy will be up waiting for me. The Boy, bless his heart sometimes takes a slight interest in something I am doing. If I am going to have a beer, he likes to open it for me. If I am going to pour it into a glass, he likes to pour it for me. It’s not a difficult task and he enjoys doing it, so I will let him.

The Boy has recently been up when I get up. This recent development is due to coffee. He doesn’t want to drink it. He wants to help me make it. By “help”, I mean he wants to make it. Himself. With no help from me.

The Boy makes sure he is up when I am up because, if I waited for him to get up at his normal time and make the coffee, I would be waiting for almost an hour for him. Plus, there’s the issue of his deciding what he wants for breakfast (that takes at least 20 minutes), getting ready for school (another 10-15 minutes), and finding his way to the car for the ride to school.

A boy filling a coffee pot with water. — *Getting the water all by himself.*

The Process of Making Coffee

We start with the filter. I put the filter in and get the tin of coffee for the boy. The boy scoops the coffee out of the tin. I count for him. He admonishes me. He’s counting, not me. He doesn’t want any help.

On one of his first mornings of making coffee, I made him upset. Why, you ask? I wasn’t sure he could handle making it from the sink to the coffee machine with a pot full of water. I thought I was doing The Boy a favor by pouring the water into the machine for him. This was no favor and The Boy made sure I knew this. He wanted to do it all by himself, including pouring the water.

I’m only his father. What do I know? It’s not like I’ve been making coffee for 30 years.

The next day, he was up and ready to make coffee for me and Wife. He scooped the coffee into the machine. I got a cup out of the cabinet for him. He asked me what this was for. I told him it was to pour the water into the machine. Like an idiot, I thought it would be easier for him to use a smaller cup and make multiple trips between the sink and the coffee machine.

He told me no and reminded me about the coffee pot that comes with the machine. He was going to take the pot, fill it with water and pour it into the machine. Again, the boy is strong, but he is also a boy. I explain to him that it would be easier if he used the smaller cup and made more than one trip, but I’m only his father. What do I know? It’s not like I’ve been making coffee for 30 years.

I put the stool down for him. He promptly picks it up and puts it back down. He’s doing it all by himself.

We’re able to reach a compromise. The boy will use the pot and he will also use a stepstool. I put the stool down for him. He promptly picks it up and puts it back down. He’s doing it all himself.

The Process of Moving Coffee

Coffee scooped, water poured, machine turned on. Now the boy can have breakfast. He has breakfast while the coffee brews. The coffee is done. He hurries to the cabinet to get a cup for Wife. The boy proudly pours his mother a cup of coffee and is ready to bring it upstairs to her.

A boy pouring cream into a cup of coffee. — *Making Mom’s coffee all by himself.*

Along the way, he must deal with the dog, the gate that closes off the stairs, and the stairs, which can be tricky for a boy holding a cup of coffee. I offer to hold the cup of coffee for him while he opens the gate, but no. He doesn’t need my help. He’s doing this all by himself. As a parent, I’m not exactly thrilled with the idea of my son holding a hot cup of coffee while he walks across the house and up the stairs. He has thought of this, though. He uses a towel to protect his hands as he makes his way through said house and stairs.

He makes it upstairs and into the bedroom. He proudly presents his mother with a cup of coffee that he made all by himself. No help from his father at all. Wife thanks him and begins to enjoy her coffee. I go back to my reading and writing as I sip on my coffee poured from a pot that he made all by himself.

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School Days, Here Again

It’s September. That means transitioning from vacation to school. Hopefully, it will also mean having a few more uninterrupted conversations with my wife now that the Miracles of Christ are back in school.

Everyone is adjusting to the new schedules. Some children are dealing with the harsh reality of not waking up at noon. Other children are adjusting to a morning of getting dressed and leaving the house instead of rolling out of bed and going on autopilot to the television, generating just enough energy to stay vertical until they reach the couch.

I’m adjusting, too. I need to make sure I’m up early enough to get the little cherubs out of bed and on their way to the car or bus. I’m helping children get their breakfast and find their things so they can be on time for school. The first day of school was tough. Kids had tons of supplies to see themselves through the school year. Usually, we can get to the school a day or two before the official first day and drop the things off so children can just walk to their classrooms on Day One and not worry about anything else but making it to the classroom and seeing who they were sitting next to.

It didn’t happen this time. Oh, well. I dropped off The Oppressed and The Boy with their gear. Luckily, things fit in their bags and they were able to remain upright on their way into the building. I went home and did my work, patiently waiting for the time I could return to the school and find out about their day.

That glorious time came and I eagerly waited at the school parking lot for the doors to open and release the children from the temporary adult oppressors to the permanent oppressors. The Oppressed was in relatively good spirits and gave about as much information as I could expect. The Boy, on the other hand, was none too happy. Apparently, his teacher took his things from him as soon as he got to his room and locked them up on him. The Boy didn’t understand why the teacher had to take his things away from him without any explanation. I decided to find out more about this and asked The Oppressed, who just happened to be an alumna of this teacher. It turns out this teacher allows the students to keep what they need in their desks and the excess stock is kept in a closet. When the student needs something, the teacher will fetch it from the closet, thereby making sure that everything is accounted for, nothing gets lost, and the student has everything they need for a successful school year. The Boy didn’t exactly see it that way and was upset with his teacher for days because she, “stole” the things he needs for school. The Oppressed and I tried to explain what happened. The Boy said she should have spoke to him about it and asked him if it was alright to take his things before she took it. After all, The Boy reminded us, it’s his stuff.

Despite my inexperience and lack of know-how when it comes to parenting (I just live here with my children), I have learned there are times when it is best to just let kids sulk and stew about the cruel lot cast upon them by fate. At this point, all I can do is patiently wait for The Boy to need something and, at that time, the teacher will go to the closet and retrieve what he needs from the supply closet. Maybe then he will understand the grand scheme of the teacher and her classroom.

Time will tell. As of now, there are other things to deal with. Another round of the Homework Wars will be descending upon us. There are flag-football, cheerleading, and cross-country practices to attend. Wife and I have our own jobs. I know I said something about having uninterrupted conversations with my wife while the children are away, but there may be other things lurking in the shadows and waiting to snatch whatever chance I have to talk to her without someone or something jumping in and fill what I thought was an opening.

Messages from Above and Beyond

I am a husband, a parent to five children, and a baseball coach. I take care of a dog and a cat. I help with homework and give driving lessons among other duties fulfilled. For all of these duties, some of the most exciting moments occur in my own home.

Wife and I try to keep a clean house. Some days are easier than others. Those easier days are usually when the Miracles of Christ are at school or the whole family is out of the house for the day on an excursion. We try to enlist the cherubs’ help from time to time, that’s easier than obtaining answers regarding discoveries Wife and I make around the abode.

King Tut's tomb, still sealed. — *King Tut’s tomb. Almost as exciting as what we find at home.*

You may already be familiar with the story of King Tut’s tomb. In 1923, an archaeologist named Howard Carter found the tomb and discovered what it contained. The discovery was magnificent in both archaeological and historical terms. The discoveries made that day in February of 1923 answered many questions and led to some new ones. The discoveries I make at home produce many questions but don’t answer much.

I go to one child’s room to wake them up in the morning. They have an alarm but they either sleep through it or just ignore it. On my way through the room to their bed, I notice several items laying around the room, usually in the form of empty cans. Thankfully, these empty cans are non-alcoholic, so it could be worse. Since these cans are actually in someone’s room, it’s hard for them to deny them or not now where they came from. Questions regarding this discovery usually produces answers such as, “Oh, yeah,” or, “Um, yeah. I was gonna get those.”

Open seltzer cans on a dresser in a bedroom. — *They told me they were going to take care of these… a month ago.*

Of course you were. Right after you finished your video game or the television show you started streaming for the tenth time this week. I’m sure it was right at the top of your list. Right after the mountain of laundry that’s been sitting there for weeks going on months, waiting for you to scale it. I’m sure it was just a matter of time. It’s not like you’re in the room sleeping all morning and you walk past them when you finally get up out of bed.

Other discoveries are a little difficult to pinpoint. These are the ones made in the living room, the dining room, and the kitchen. Upon entering these parts of the house, the visitor is met with random scraps plastic left from opening powdered drink mixes. No one can explain these mysterious phenomena. Empty chip and snack bags. Again, no one can explain this. Water bottles. Juice boxes. More miracles of God. Things people have certainly seen but weren’t around to witness the actual happening. “I don’t know.” “That was there when I got here.” I wonder if we’re on some sacred burial ground of an ancient civilization long forgotten and the spirits are somehow communicating with us with these objects and items randomly left about the house that trespasses on said sacred ground.

Food and crumbs on furniture. — *Gifts for the gods.*

Sometimes, there’s food and crumbs left with these mysterious packages. If you’ve seen the movie “Coco”, you know that people leave food for the spirits of their departed relatives. Maybe people in this house have been leaving food for the spirits. It’s also possible that people in this house are eating snacks and leaving crumbs but we don’t want to offend the gods, do we?

I’m not sure who to speak to about this. The Oppressed? The Gaggle? Discovery Channel? The Boy? Wife? National Geographic? I’m sure someone from PBS would love to know about these strange occurrences randomly taking place all over the house. Doggie doesn’t care where it’s coming from. She’s just happy to have an extra snack now and then. I wish these mysterious spirits wouldn’t leave so many signs. It’s hard enough for our dear children to clean the house as it is. Maybe that’s the problem. Maybe they really are cleaning but Ida Know and Not Me from “The Family Circus” are dropping by and leaving subtle reminders that they were here. This much I know: It couldn’t possibly come from our children.

A dog eating crumbs off furniture. — *Not everyone in the house is upset about the crumbs.*

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Talking to your children

Parenting’s tough. Anyone who has children knows that. Sometimes it takes more than a larynx and diaphragm to get a message across to our little cherubs. Sometimes it only takes a slight variation of the vernacular to reach them. Here I would like to share with you my little nuggets occasionally bestowed upon our miserable little darlings. I’ve also included the intent of said nuggets. As an intelligent human, I’ll let you figure out the desired result(s).

I can’t even. (The words to describe this tomfoolery have yet to be invented.)

I will violate my parole. (I will find a cop and confess to whatever unsolved crime they are investigating if it means a couple of days to myself.)

I’m out of medals. (How nice of you to put your plate in the dishwasher this time. Your job this week was all of the dishes, which I have done twice in as many days so we could have clean dishes for dinner. I’m sorry you were up texting your friend until 12:30 this morning but some of us had to be responsible people today. But thank you for gracing us with your presence this mor- afternoon.)

I want proof of life. (Come out of your room and into the kitchen so we know you are actually out of bed and dressed.)

We’re not translating “The Divine Comedy”. (You have to write a sentence about a cat. Put on your big boy/girl pants and suck it up.)

Who’s on Dish Duty? (There is a mountain of dishes in the kitchen that’s about to topple over. how about putting the phone down and washing those dishes we told you to do three days ago?)

Who’s on Laundry Duty? (Everyone’s out of clothes again. How about pausing that PS4 and taking a moment to load the washer? It’s alright. You’ll have a solid 15-20 minutes of gaming before you have to move the load to the dryer and reload the washer.)

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Cats and Dogs

There’s never a dull moment in our house. Me, wife, five kids, a cat, a dog… Oh, yeah. We got a dog.

I’m still not sure how this all came about. One of the children, I think, started talking about how nice it would be to have a dog. The Miracles of Christ don’t think we quite have enough going on in our house or in our lives. Between elementary school and high school, we have someone at home learning remotely five days a week. Wife is still working from home. Someone needs to go to school for a tutoring session at least two days a week. On top of that, there are the daily responsibilities of keeping the house clean. Now the children want to throw another pet into the mix.

I reminded the children of the additional responsibilities that come with a dog, responsibilities that require getting out of bed before 11:00. No problem. They can do it. They will remember to feed the dog and walk the dog. These kids can’t remember to turn off a light when they leave a room but they’ll remember to take care of another animal.

It’s okay. They’ve got this. They’re going to take care of the dog. I voice my concerns, which are seriously considered by all before we start looking online for another member of our ever-growing family. We find a puppy at a local shelter. We sign up for our socially-distanced appointment. Before that, it’s off to the bank for a second mortgage and then the pet store where we buy up every dog supply the store has to offer. Wife and I are a little apprehensive now since there are no guarantees we will go home with a dog.

We get the dog. Doggie hangs out in the office with wife where she whines and whimpers. Wife stops her business presentation to explain to the listeners we have yet another addition to the family and God forbid we don’t give her our undivided attention every waking moment.

Walking the dog is a treat. The dog fights us leaving the house and down the driveway and around the block. I’m trying to get Doggie to pee or poop. I don’t need to clean another mess in this house. Wife and I had a dog before. That dog took out three chew toys, five rugs, two mats, a bookcase, and the entire floor of one room. Some of these casualties are from chewing. Some are from peeing. Wife and I are especially vigilant about walking the dog.

We took Doggie to a check-up to make sure she’s healthy and alright. She has an ear infection. Fun times. The vet said we need to make sure her teeth are clean. The Oppressed has offered to share her toothbrush. I immediately vetoed that offer.

On the plus side, we have a fenced-in yard and our compost pile (We’re such good citizens of the Earth) is also fenced off. We have that to give Doggie a space to run around and expend some energy.

The family, especially the children are excited about this addition, especially one of the Gaggle, who has immediately adopted Doggie as yet another support animal. Speaking of support animals, Kitty is not pleased with this fellow four-legged creature. She is on alert every time she sees Doggie. Bristled fur, arched back, puffy tail. The whole bit. The truth is Puppy is just as scared of Kitty as Kitty is of Puppy. They’re both little timid animals who want protection from the other. What could possibly go wrong?

2020 Hindsight

There’s been a lot of talk about 2020 and how glad people will be to see it leave. I hate to be the bearer of bad news but Coronapalooza isn’t going to disappear when midnight strikes and the ball drops to ring in 2021.

But that’s not why I’m here with you this week. I’m hear to tell you that 2020 hasn’t been all that bad. Not for me, anyway, and I want to share with you the memories of the year that was all about toilet paper, homeschooling, and wi-fi bands that were tested time and time again.

The year 2020 was a year that saw us as a family of five. One left us and two more came. One more came after that and we are now a happy family of seven. We made a jump from dealing with elementary school problems to dealing with teenagers, high school, Driver’s Ed and the multitude of happy experiences and memories that spawned from everything teenager.

Wife finally got one of her wishes. She got to spend more time at home. Granted, she was working from home so it wasn’t exactly ideal, but she didn’t have to fight traffic or deal with coming home after children had gone to bed. I even got to have lunch with her sometimes.

Youth sports got me out of the house with The Boy. We got to spend some time on the baseball diamond where I saw other ways to use a facemask besides protecting your face. Chew toys, sling shots. It’s amazing what kids can do if they’re bored enough. I also spent my time dodging errant throws and thrown bats as well as directing traffic on the base paths and making sure there was one person not chasing a batted ball so the up-and-comers would have someone to throw to as soon as they were done jumping on each other while trying to get said batted ball. Speaking of happy days on the diamond, I would like to take this time to thank a certain neighbor for taking over a couple of times so I could go on vacation with my family.

Vacation. Ah, yes. Vacation. Those glorious weeks spent with my wife, children and my wife’s cousins… and four additional children that belonged to one of those cousins. It was a good time. Swimming and campfires and no wi-fi. I think The Oppressed is still traumatized by the wi-fi-less week. Those therapy sessions are going to be epic.

We spent some time swimming at a nearby beach. We took walks. We dealt with the outdoors and the elements as best we could. It wasn’t Disneyland (our first choice for vacation before the Coronavirus fiasco) but we were able to spent some time together.

Summer vacation ends and we are back to homeschooling and The Homework Wars. We have a small break between homework and dinner where The Boy and I go to flag-football practice. I was an assistant coach. I get another chance to do something with him. The Oppressed has sworn off sports for the rest of her life. I need to find something else to do with her.

Driving lessons. Just one
example of our “fun” this year.

The sports seasons end and the weather gets colder. I move from coaching youth sports to helping one of The Gaggle as they start their driving lessons. There have been plenty of white-knuckle incidents and missed turns and slamming on the brakes when someone realizes halfway through an intersection that there was a stop sign. Good times. We will soon have another child starting Driver’s Ed. My liquor cabinet won’t be empty for a while. The colder weather brings a change to the seasons. We celebrated Thanksgiving. I won’t say how many were there because I’m still not sure what the limits are for gatherings at the time. Whatever they are, I’m sure we were WELL within them.

We gave candy at Halloween. We helped shovel out neighbors. I started to tell my stories to the world about parenting and all of the joys that came along with it. I also took another job writing. A friend of mine took me on to write some feel-good stories about the good people at Northeastern University and their accomplishments. I immediately said yes because I don’t have anything else going on right now. Sounds like fun. It has been.

There was no such fun when I pulled a deck of “Uno” cards out of my Christmas stocking and looked at The Oppressed on Christmas Morning. Playing cards is right under Batting Practice on the list of Cruel and Unusual Punishments she is seeking to have permanently banned. I’m hoping she will change her mind. In the meantime, there will be more stories to tell about me, Wife and our five kids who fill our home with love, memories, and ulcer-inducing stories.

So, what exactly will 2021 bring to us? I have no idea. I’m stuck with you here in 2020. I know there will be three in high school and one wrapping up elementary school and getting ready for middle school. A child in middle school. What could possibly go wrong?

I do have hopes for the new year. One hope is that we can finally get back out to doing normal things. Go out to eat. Take a vacation. Send my children, all five of them, to school full-time. Whatever 2021 brings us, I will be sure to let you know about it. Thank you for being with me this year as I share the ups, downs, and adventures in Parenting. The year 2021 should be an interesting year and, if anything goes wrong, there’s always 2022. Right?

Happy New Year!

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Christmas Spirits… and Wine… and Beer

As you know, I take my drinking very seriously. I fancy myself to be somewhat of an expert on beer. I am still learning about scotch and bourbon but I’ve always thought learning is fun.

During the Christmas season, I always try to read “A Christmas Carol” and one or two other stories of the Season written by Charles Dickens. Christmas in Victorian England seems like a fascinating thing to me and Wife. The Spirit. The decor. One time wife had to go to London on business not long before Christmas. She returned with mini mince pies, Christmas pudding, and some catalogs that featured some dinners you could order and pick up in time for Christmas dinner. Turkey. Goose. Beef. I asked wife if they shipped international orders.

Okay. Back to the drinking. I like drinking and I also like history. I have a book on what they drank during Colonial America. Colonists took what they had and turned it into delightful and delicious concoctions. Everything organic and made from scratch. Ever have a Rattle-Skull? Delicious.

I first learned about a drink called a “Smoking Bishop” the first time I actually read “A Christmas Carol”. I was intrigued enough to look it up. It looked interesting and easy enough. I made a batch and it was wonderful. I try to make some every year. There are lots of variations on the recipe. I don’t know if there is one “original” recipe but this is the one I use.

Speaking of “A Christmas Carol”, Fezziwig served Negus at his Christmas party. I’ve looked for a recipe to this drink. The easiest one calls for a mixture of port wine and boiling water. Add some nutmeg and cinnamon. A little lemon juice. Some suggest you mix the nutmeg and wine and let it sit for an hour or so. I make it and serve immediately with a lemon wedge.

I’m always looking for new things to try. I don’t need to look for reasons. The Miracles of Christ give me plenty of those by themselves. What do you like to make and drink? I know a lot of people like egg nog. Wife has a special recipe for that that has been handed down for generations. I like to sample some of that to. After all, ’tis the Season.

Words of Thanks

We are celebrating Thanksgiving this year. There are a lot of things, actually everything, that is different this year. Coronapalooza means plans for everyone being disrupted. Instead of travelling to a relative’s house, we will be home. All of us: Wife, children and me will be around a table sharing a Thanksgiving meal. One will complain about having to share potatoes although there is enough to feed more than the number of people at the table. Another will complain about not being able to check his phone. You see, we have a teenager who is a secret agent for the federal government. He can’t tell us what branch or what exactly he does for fear of blowing his cover.

The Oppressed is a vegetarian. I am grateful for this because it means more turkey for me. Then again, there are three teenagers I will have to fight if I want turkey. Wife and I have stocked up on wine and beer, so after the festivities conclude, maybe we can have a drink together and enjoy a second or two without children. We will celebrate and be thankful. What are we thankful for? Plenty. I, for one, am thankful I got to coach baseball and football and got to spend more time with The Boy. The Boy is grateful there is no more games and he can go back to watching YouTube videos instead of wasting his mornings outside playing a stupid game.

I’m grateful for The Oppressed, who is healthy. Years ago, when she entered this world, she was in the NICU for a few days. She made it and now we are blessed with her unsolicited advice on how we can be better parents and constant reminders about how we only had children so we can have people do work around the house and yard.

I’m grateful for our life and house. It’s a house that is filled with children, including our Gaggle of foster children. Our life has allowed us to take in additional children. They have brought with them additional challenges such as road lessons, more school, more classes and more teacher conferences. There’s also the occasional teen melodrama from time to time, but my wife and I are able to see it through and recover just in time for the next melodramatic issue.

I’m grateful for Wife. She is constantly working long, seemingly endless hours to support us. I’m pretty sure her work schedule violates labor laws and I am glad when she can walk away from her work so we can reconnect and see what new crisis is waiting in the wings.

I’m grateful for Kitty, our fierce and wild pet who protects us from dangers outside our home. I’m grateful for her jumping on my lap and keeping me warm.

There is plenty to be grateful for and we will celebrate that this week. We will celebrate among children attacking each other, among insults and other barbs travelling across the table. I just hope the banter and rancor will stop long enough when I want another helping of something. I hope there will be a word or thought of gratitude between the shouts of, “I like your cut, G!” and the incoming slap that immediately follows. Maybe a word of thanks instead of shouting, “You’re so sus!” Maybe a word of thanks instead of the usual words we hear when one is chasing the other around a table or around the house.

I’m also grateful for you visiting. Thank you for reading. Happy thanksgiving.

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