Because We're Idiots...

I wrote this over at Hubpages a while back in response to a girl who asked why her boyfriend always argued with her.  I tried my best to explain it here:

Men. Simply put, we’re idiots. And it doesn't pain me to say it because it has been proven time and time again. It is one of the true things in this world that cannot be changed. As males, most of us do not make great decisions, except of course for the decision to be with you.

Since the dawn of mankind we have been stubborn, stupid creatures. Left alone, we will eat pizza, drink beer and watch sports. That's it, and we will contently live out our days doing so. We will communicate through a series of grunts and one word answers, and never, ever, express our feelings.

A woman in our life helps us grow and become better men. As the old saying goes, behind every great man there is a great woman. And that woman is right most of the time. A guy may have a Nobel prize sitting on the mantle and yet has never won an argument with his wife.

Progress isn't easy, we will fight it as long as we are able to do so. We will kick and scream until all we have left is the argument. And then we lose that. Women are better equipped to win an argument than men. Most of them think before they speak and see the big picture beyond the next few days.  (Women will actually plan what to have for dinner, sometimes even days in advance).

When my wife and I get into an argument, I will passionately argue my case, more often than not attempting in vain to prove my point. Most of the times I will make a huge fuss and production only to find out later that she was in fact, right all along. Now I can’t just admit that I was wrong after expending so much energy fighting for my cause and what I believed was right, so I have to continue to fight, despite being once again, in the wrong.

Sometimes I will continue to argue, going on and on as I state my points and make my case. As I get on a roll, I catch fire and cannot be stopped, my voice gains strength as my confidence mounts. Finally, I look over at my wife and notice her staring at me, curious as to when I will stop having a conversation with myself. I feel foolish and childlike, I want to stomp off and out of the room. She was right.

Other times I look for a loophole, a technicality that allows me to save face. This way I don’t have to say it, you know…it, anything to keep me from saying it yet again. Didn't I just say it last week? You’re right honey. Yeah, that hurts. I was wrong once again….again!

Maybe it's in the DNA, a flaw in the Y chromosome. I've read about a woman who was born with male DNA and female parts, talk about an inner struggle. This poor woman has never won an argument with anyone.

Maybe it all started when Eve gave the I told you so look to Adam. The patented look that says, you’re an idiot. We don’t care about hand towels, paint color schemes, window dressings, or matching picture frames. We care about fourth quarter comebacks, pizza, and the lawn mower. And the dog, we care about the dog.

As for women who wonder why men continue to argue, I suggest you that you just be the bigger person and let your man have the last word. He’s probably so sick and tired of trying to argue with your logical points he’s exhausted. Let him use words such as So, or Whatever, this may be all he has left in his arsenal. Deep down he knows your right, again, just don't make hims say it...

Movember

Movember is the one month event when men show their support for prostate and testicular cancer awareness by growing a mustache.  A great cause for sure, but personally, I think it's an excuse to look like a hipster.

Nonetheless, I gave it a shot and participated, at least for a few days.  I knew my wife would not be on board with my parting with the razor.  She has sensitive skin, so if I want to kiss her, I’d better take care of business.  But here posed a great excuse not to shave, a loophole if you will, so I jumped on it. 

In my thirties, I'm thankful for the fact that I am not a hairy man.  I didn’t start shaving regularly until my twenties, and even today, my ‘stache came in pretty light.  But with a pregnant wife at home, I have a lot of free time on my hands.  So I present, my movember surprise.

Some people can this pull this look off.  Ron Swanson, Ron Burgundy and Ron Jeremy to name a few.  Wait a minute, maybe you have to be named Ron?  No, My dad has rocked a mustache for as long as I can remember, in fact he looks strange without it. For others, myself included, not so much.

I did manage to raise awareness, at least in my household. My wife is aware that I look like a—how did she put it—oh yes, a sketchy child molester who “skeeved” her out.  So much for my support.  I tried Movember, I really did. Unfortunately, I will have to find another way to champion your cause, preferably a way that doesn't involve me looking like a hipster sleazeball. But it wasn't all in vain, I did get a kiss for my troubles…after I shaved of course.

Movies with my son

I thought I would come up with a few movies for my son and I to enjoy when he's a little older, after all, everyone loves movie night. While I'm sure we will watch all of the pixar staples and popular kid movies, I came up with a few flicks of my own.  

Some of these are timeless classics, while others are highly inappropriate and only on the list because I can't talk my wife into sitting down and watching them with me. In any case, there are many lessons to be learned here, let’s take a look:

Right off the bat.  Movies that we can enjoy together as soon as he’s home.

Rudy (1993) – The Short: Inspirational movie that makes guys cry.  What’s not to like? Despite his size, Rudy has a dream to play football at Notre Dame and is determined to overcome countless obstacles to achieve his goal.  Favorite line: Well, you know what my dad always said, Having dream is what makes life tolerable. Life Lesson: Work hard, never give up on your dreams.

Space Jam (1996) – The Short: If I have to watch cartoons, this one will do. What’s not to like? Maybe a little cheesy at times but still, MJ and Loony Tunes?  I can deal with it.  Favorite Line: Bill Murray – It’s because I’m white, isn’t it?  MJ- No.  Larry’s white, so what?  Bill Murray – Larry’s not white, Larry’s clear. Life Lesson:  Michael Jordan could do anything he wanted in the nineties.

Diary of A Wimpy Kid (2010) –The Short: Not sure why, but I love this series.  What’s not to like?  Middle school is difficult but this humorous movie makes the best of it. Favorite Line: Dear Gregory, I’m very sorry I chased you with a booger on my finger.  Here, I put it on this paper so you can get me back. Life Lesson:  You’ll get through it, and then you’ll miss it.

A little later.  We’ll let him grow into these.

Rocky III (1982) – The Short: An over the top 80’s comeback tale.  What’s not to like?  Mr. T gives an Oscar worthy performance as Clubber Lang, Hulk Hogan is great as Thunderlips, and Apollo Creed and Rocky set aside their differences to take on Clubber Lang.  If only congress would do the same.  Favorite Line – Mr. Lang, what’s your prediction for the fight?  Clubber Lang, staring into the camera: Pain…Life Lesson – Take your pick.  Never give up, work together, and don’t get too big on yourself.

Dumb and Dumber (1994) – The Short:  Ones dumb, the other dumber. What’s not to like?  Jim Carey was still funny as Lloyd and Jeff Daniels holds his own as Harry.  Favorite Line:  Too many to name, I still quote this movie constantly.  Hey look The Monkeys, they were a huge influence on The Beatles.  Life Lesson: Chase your dream, chase the girl, and return what is not yours.  But try to use some common sense.

Airplane (1980) – The short: A classic slapstick must-see comedy.  What’s not to like?  One big joke, this movie is still one of the funniest of all times. Favorite line – The Hospital, what is it?  It’s a large building with patients, but that’s not important right now!  Life lesson – Don’t eat the fish.

Back to the Future (1985) – The Short: A fish out of water story involving time travel, high school, and a family crisis. What’s not to like? Michael J Fox gives an incredible performance as the teenage Marty Mcfly, and plays a mean guitar in the process. Favorite Line: I’m sure that in 1985, plutonium is available in every corner drugstore, but in 1955, it’s a little hard to come by.  Life Lesson: Without family we wouldn’t be here!

It may be a while…

Die Hard (1988) – The Short: Good guys vs. Bad guys, a guy’s kind of movie. What’s not to like?  Bruce Willis in his prime as a chain smoking cop with a filthy mouth and a penchant for killing bad guys.  (We may have to sneak this one in while Mom's not around). Favorite Line: Nine million terrorists in the world and I gotta kill one with feet smaller than my sister. Life Lesson: Stay home for the holidays.

Shawshank Redemption (1994) – The Short: Morgan Freeman narrates and makes jail sound like a bedtime story.  What’s not to like?  In a tale of friendship and redemption, both Tim Robbins and Morgan Freeman are excellent in their roles as Andy and Red.  Favorite Line: Get busy living or get busy dying.   Life Lesson:  Don’t go to jail.

Anchorman (2004) – The Short: Hilarious.  What’s not to like? Will Farrell gives perhaps his best performance as 70’s newscaster Ron Burgundy.  Favorite Line: Sweet Lincoln’s mullet. Life lesson: Women can read the news too. 

Not on my watch...

Scarface, The Exorcist, Natural Born Killers, Legally Blonde, A Clockwork Orange, The Hostel, The Omen, Kill Bill, The Amityville Horror, Sex in the City, Battlefield Earth, Death Wish, Bleeders, and many more.

Baby Shower - What's A Guy To Do?

Over the weekend my wife had her baby shower.  Her shower? So I thought. Perhaps I've been watching too much Mad Men, but for some reason I hadn't planned on being involved. I figured I would be on the golf course or at a card game smoking a cigar, although I don't do either so that would be weird. In any event I had not planned on partaking. I would be on my own, tucked away in the basement hiding out with the dogs watching football, or something like that.



Saturday morning arrived and the fun began. I took the dogs for a run, raked the leaves in the yard, and stopped just short of untangling the hose before I set out on last minute errands before our guests arrived. My mother in law and her sister worked fastidiously, cleaning the house and preparing food for the guests. My wife's best friend took care of everything else.  And there was a whole lot of everything else.

 



My reading list...

 By the time I arrived home from my excuse to be out of the house errands, things were coming together quite nicely. Our living room had been transformed into a bookstore/gala event complete with stuffed animals, party favors, pictures, and...are those meatballs? Trays of food were sitting out as a buffet had been set out in my absence.  Fruit kabobs, cookies, bacon wrapped pineapple, ham biscuits, taco dip, muffins, cupcakes, and candy. Lots and lots of candy. I quickly found myself thinking, this isn't so bad...

Nevertheless, my Uncle and my cousin's husband headed downstairs to the bunker. I had the beer on ice and college football on the television, we were all set. But the moms upstairs must have had a different idea. The basement door opened and the sounds of little footsteps could be heard bouncing down the stairs. We were joined by a friend's five year old son, and then a three year old, and then another one.  I quickly noticed we were in the midst of daddy day care chaos. Now I don't know what 37 year old male doesn't have a skateboard, football, and inflatable punch dummy in his basement, but let me tell you, it all came in handy.  We played with the kids, watched some football, and quickly forgot about the beer, we had been suckered into working.

I made multiple trips upstairs, for cookies, punch, parents, and bathroom trips to wash grubby little hands that became sticky from holding those cookies and spilling punch.  A few times I ran up just to sneak a peek at the lifetime movie scene that was unfolding in my living room, and I quickly realized that our house was no longer our own. We now officially have a kid house. In just one day our home was furnished with toys, stuffed animals, kid books, colorful bath toys and clothes, lots of clothes. Simon will be one lucky boy.

As the smoke cleared and our guest began to head out, we looked at the array of gifts spread out on our floor. My wife's best friend stayed behind, and with the help of my mother-in-law and aunt-in-law we began the task of cleaning the house. They were lifesavers.

I would like to thank everyone involved for the gracious gifts and support. We are truly blessed to have such loving family and friends and we are forever grateful for each and every one of you. Now if you will excuse me, I have to attend to this cooler full of beer.

Sleeping Alone...

For the past two nights I have slept like a baby and because of this I feel somewhat guilty.  As my wife’s mid section grows, her sleeping has gotten more and more erratic.  She takes anywhere between 8-10 bathroom trips each night, tossing from side to side and using as much space as possible while doing so. 

A few days ago she came down with a cold that left her completely miserable, especially at night.  She began snoring heavily—like scared the dogs heavily—so the other night while she was tossing and turning, I snuck out.  I snuck out on my pregnant, sick wife, what a jerk.

I headed down the hall for the guest room.    The bed felt a bit softer than normal, the pillows were fluffed as if they had been prepared to my liking for a good night’s rest.  Oh wow, I thought, stretching out, this is nice. I didn't know it could feel like this.  I closed my eyes, quickly surrendering to a deep uninterrupted sleep. 

I woke up the next morning refreshed, in fact I had overslept; my wife woke me, asking me if I planned on going to work, (I had forgotten to put the do not disturb sign out).  I hopped out of bed well rested and recharged, ready to take on the day with a smile on my face.  I Pushed back the tinge of guilt, got dressed and headed to the kitchen for breakfast.  School was pushed back a couple of hours due to the rain hurricane so I kissed my loving wife on the forehead and went off to work.

I thought it was a one time thing.  I vowed not to do it again.  The next night, we said goodnight before going to sleep, like any other happily married couple who doesn’t keep things from each other.  I tried to sleep, drifting at times before my attention was jerked by the tossing and sneezing and snoring.  I waited until around midnight and made my move.  I climbed out of bed, walking softly down the hall to my luxurious unoccupied sleep suite, pulling back the covers and digging in for a second night of peaceful sleep. 

I’m awful, I know.  My poor pregnant wife is sick and here I am slinking off down the hall to oblivion.  I don’t want us to become a couple who sleeps in separate beds, I like sleeping next to her….or at least I did.  It feels like betrayal, but then, when I’m hanging on to a sliver of the mattress, grasping for dear life, scared of just what is happening behind my back,  I start to think about the empty bed…calling my name from the soft cottony uninhibited sheets.  I'm so weak....well rested....but weak.

Random Thoughts



Layman Farms

We’ve entered week 26, and my wife’s ankles have swollen beyond recognition, I try to remain positive, telling her that no, they really don’t look that bad.  She sleeps with anywhere 4-7 pillow in the bed and the bathroom trips have picked up again, mainly due to the gallons of water she has consumed.

But somehow, she has kept her sense of humor intact.  She remains upbeat and positive and keeps me laughing through it all, which is more than I could say if the tables were turned.

On the way home from work a few days ago, she stopped at the grocery store to “pick up a few things”.  She arrived home a half an hour later with three or four bags full of the most random contents on the shelves, it looked as if she had swapped grocery lists with Rain Man.

“I thought you were just picking up a few things?”  I said to her, confused as I searched the contents of her bags.

“Pregnant and hungry is no way to go to the grocery store.”  She mumbled through a mouthful of triscuits.

And on that note, here are some random thoughts from the week:

We ventured out into the shopping mall last Saturday and I immediately noticed that I’ve fallen into no man’s land as far as age groups are concerned at the mall.  You’re either a teenager, an employee, or retired. There seems to be no middle ground.  I felt like Michael Doulgas’ character from the movie Falling Down as I stared at the teenagers who wore fashions I couldn’t comprehend. 

The other night my wife and I were on the couch (Her feet in my lap of course) when the phone rang.  We looked at each other, puzzled, as if to say Who in the world is calling at this hour?  It was 8:45.

Child care is seriously expensive.  Who knew?

I would like to say thank you to the soon to be grandparents, Simon is truly going to be one lucky baby.  He will have five Grandparents that all love him dearly, and have sent down very nice furniture for his room, which by the way, is quickly becoming the nicest in the house.

Why do girls in their 20’s and 30’s still refer to themselves as princesses? There is no reason for you to wear a tiara in your cubicle. Ditto for Barbies.  Maybe it’s just me..

When we were at the corn maze last weekend, I found myself checking out the strollers, comparing the styles and models.  I found myself checking out strollers...Five years ago me called, he says wow...

I’ve also found myself noticing little kids whenever we’re out, sometimes I'll smile at them without realizing that this could be interpreted the wrong way.  That is until a protective parent comes grabbing their child while scowling at the weirdo in the mall, hanging out near the strollers, berating the girls wearing tiaras.  What has happened to me?

Smooth Sailing

Today begins Week 17 in our journey to life.  I am still confused excited as ever but I do have some questions about the smooth sailing of the second trimester.

From what I’ve gathered this is normally the time when things calm a bit as the mother-to-be starts to adjust to her body’s changes.  As everyone is different, I’m sure that every pregnancy is different, but I can’t help but shutter at the thought of the third trimester when things begin picking up steam. 

In reality, it's not all that bad, but at this point if my wife’s head spun completely around on her neck I would not even do a double take.  I wish there was more I could do to help but my Google searches have proved fruitless when looking for a ways to speed up a pregnancy.

I give her all the credit in the world as there is no way that a man could do this, I am completely sure of that.  I cry for days when I come down with the common cold, I can’t imagine how I would deal with morning sickness, cramps, and gulp, discharges.  Moving on.

On top of everything else she's dealing with, the school year has begun and she has a classroom full of 7 year olds to teach, so I think I will cut her some slack on the mood swings, exhaustion and four letter words being thrown around the house.

On a final note, as I learn by mistake, I now know that you never call a pregnant woman a psycho, no matter what actions point to the contrary.

Changes

As we begin our 14th week, our baby’s neck is becoming stronger as he will be able to lift his head from his chin. I’ve become fascinated by reading the baby’s developments as it is truly amazing that my wife is creating life inside of her.

Every day I am more and more amazed by my wife, I’ve started to think of her as a superhero of sorts.  I would give her a cape but she would probably rip it off in a fit of rage, telling me how hot it suddenly has become.  Her ever changing body is now in full swing and I’m trying to roll with it the best I can.

Mood Swings

The mood changes have subsided lately as my wife has gotten used to her raging hormones, but at first I was a bit scared for my life  concerned.  She is back to being her pleasant self which is no small feat considering what’s taking place inside of her.

Swelling breast

Apparently as we get further along, my wife’s swelling breast that she hates and I admire will begin to leak some sort of clear (that's not an actual medical term) substance containing antibodies as she starts to produce milk.  She’s also informed me that they itch, so taking her out in public is a crap shoot.

Aches and pains

I’m trying to do my part, I really am.  I have never been a fan of feet, something I am trying to get over while messaging my pregnant wife’s aching dogs every night.  I know, I know, it’s the least I can do…giving nightly massages is my job and I have to do it with a smile on my face.

Bathroom visits

My God, how much fluid is in there?  Getting in the car?  Gotta pee.  Going for a walk?  Pee.  Bedtime?  Pee Pee Pee.  My wife has taken residence in our bathroom as it seems that her bladder has shrunk to the size of a golf ball.

So as we continue our journey into the unknown, I will keep reading the books and magazines that let me know that my wife's behavior--as funny or odd as it can be at times--is in fact, normal for someone in her condition.  She is handling this in amazing fashion....thankfully men do not get pregnant, there is no way that I could handle this.

Looking Ahead

As my wife enters her second trimester, I have no shortage of things to keep me worrying. Between health issues, finances, my first diaper change, and that terrifying Honey Boo Boo show on TLC, I’m sure there will be plenty of topics to keep me up at night.

I can’t help but to look ahead.  Of course we don’t know what the future holds, but I would like to think it will include some good times.  I hope to embrace fatherhood and enjoy the precious moments with my child.  I hope to teach, to instill, and to inspire, but I also hope to have a little fun.

There’s always been an inner kid inside of me, and now I have a reason to enjoy kid stuff without all the weird looks; I look forward to playing with toys again, pirates, monsters, superheroes, dinosaurs, cars and dump trucks, trains, boats, or whatever else. I’m up for anything. 

I’ve always enjoyed sports, so playing catch or tossing the ball around outdoors is something I look forward to. (No ball in the house, as my mom used to say)

What if it’s a girl you ask?  Ummmm…Okay, okay, I can deal with that as well.  Let’s see, I suppose I could play princess or tea time.  That could be fun, maybe. She could be a tom boy right?  Maybe she’ll like basketball or even, gulp….soccer. 

Boy or girl, we can build forts and go exploring in the woods, enjoy family trips, and the movies, have you seen the kids movies these days?  Now I’ll have a great excuse for going to see these without being the creepy guy sitting in the dark theatre by himself.

Halloween will be a great time, dressing up the little munchkin for trick or treating will be lots of fun, as will eating the candy that “doesn’t pass inspection”. 

Okay, I need to slow down.  I understand we have a long way to go before any of this takes place, and at this point we’re just hoping for a smooth pregnancy and a healthy baby, as it’s not called a miracle for nothing.    But that’s the exciting part for me, the opportunity to be a father.

What Kind of Dad Will I Be?

Here's an article I wrote over at Hubpages:

My life is going to change in a big way. Not too long ago, after coming home from playing basketball, my wife casually looked at me and told me she was pregnant. Disbelief turned into confusion, and then from confusion to joy, but a hint of fear sat in.

Finding out that my wife is having a baby is both exciting and scary. I’ve always thought I would be ready to welcome a kid into this world armed with life lessons and a vast knowledge worldly advice to offer, I would be a human fortune cookie of sorts. But the older I get, I've realized how little I know. Am I ready? Are we ever ready? I have so many questions!

I want to be prepared for what’s coming, but I have no idea what’s coming (besides a baby of course). I've become accustomed to my free time over the years, from what I gather that will be a thing of the past.

My outlook on life has suddenly changed, and life has a whole new meaning. I've never given a second thought about things such as a will or life insurance. It may be time to get my act together.

I will turn to my dad for advice. He was a great dad and is still a role model for me today. Those are huge shoes to fill; he always knew just the right thing to say. (He also has enormous feet)

I will look to my mother as well. We can still learn a lot from our parents. I've never understood new parents that don't trust their parents with their child. They raised you!! Or is that why you don't trust them?

As I prepare for this major life altering event, I will ask my friends for pointers. Most of my friends have at least one kid by now and some have teenagers. I’m going to be an old dad; I had better start taking care of myself.

I've never been good with babies. Will it come naturally? Will I just pick him/her up and know exactly what to do? Doubtful, but I’m more than willing to learn, I’m going into this wide eyed but eager. I've never changed a diaper in my life, but I have a feeling I’m in for many firsts along the way.

As crazy as the world seems today, how will I prepare a baby for what’s out there? These are chaotic times; I have to prepare for the worst. And have you seen these college tuitions lately? Better work on that jump shot….can you say scholarship?

I will have to get used to saying no. I’m sort of a push over. The dogs can attest to this, they’ve never been grounded.
What if we have twins? I recently raised this question and found myself in serious trouble for this line of thinking. (Luckily the ultasound showed just one baby)

I do look forward to this major change in my life, as hard as it may be at times. My wife is an amazing woman, full of kindness and patience; she’s going to need it, being the only adult in the house.

Ultimately, the answer to my question lies with me. Only I can be a good dad to my child, willing to make the necessary sacrifices and commitments. To always be there for my son or daughter will be the most important job of my life, and one that I must take seriously. I'm sure I will make mistakes along the way, but it won't be from a lack of effort.