Wednesday, November 20, 2013

Badges? We Don't Need No Stinking Badges! (Do you have a card though?)

I hear people bringing up "man cards" all the time or threatening to revoke another man's card because they ordered a piƱa colada instead of a pale ale or because they don't hunt deer from dusk till dawn. I've got no issue with fruity drinks, though I prefer a German Marzen myself and I don't hunt, but take little issue with it either. Anyway, I gave it some thought and came up with an SAHD approved man card. It was time as many of the manliest men I know care for their kids all day long. Here's to you!

Friday, November 15, 2013

Dad On The Run... Lyrics.

The name for my blog was inspired by Paul McCartney's "Band on the Run" which has always been a favorite of mine. I think I finally have the lyrics down for a parody version of the song, now if I can just find a reader with the talent to put it to music we'll have a theme song. I've always wanted a theme song. Haven't you?

Dad On The Run

Stuck inside these four walls
Sent inside forever
Never seeing no one, nice again,
'Cept you, daughter.
and you son and you Mama...

If I ever get out of here

Wish I could just get away.
From this daily hilarity.
All I need is five pints a day
If I ever get out of here
If we ever get out of here

Well the milk exploded with a mighty crash
As it fell onto the floor
And the first child said to the second one there
You better run for the door! Here comes Dad on the Run!

Dad on the run; Dad on the run
And the diaper man, and dancing Dad,
Entertaining everyone
I'm the Dad on the run. Dad on the Run, Dad on the Run.

Well, the at-home Dad drew a heavy sigh
Seeing no one else had come
And the bell was ringing time to prepare
For the kids on the run,

Dad on the run; Dad on the run
And the diaper man, and dancing Dad,
Entertaining everyone
I'm the Dad on the run. Dad on the Run, Dad on the Run.

Well the night was falling
As the house began to settle down
In the living room tyrants search everywhere
But the lovey will never be found

Dad on the run; Dad on the run
And the little girl, who held a grudge
Will stay awake forever more.
Poor Dad on the run. Dad on the Run. Dad on the Run...

Here is one of my favorite covers of the song in question:

The Breakfast Club?

Piglet driving the get away train. 
Inspired by the recent photo blog I saw on The Medium about Dinovember, I decided to take a swing at the idea myself with Duplo characters. The idea being that you set up toys in situations that make them appear to be like the characters of Toy Story, living breathing characters who pretend to be inanimate when humans are around. I came home from a Dad's night out and went to work. I created a scene where the Legos had obviously escaped J Bean's room on a train and, through a combination of cabinet locks, toys, a phone charger and a chair, had made their way into the pantry. The characters in the pantry were feasting on Ritz crackers and Winnie the Pooh was trying to get into a bottle of honey.

When J Bean discovered them this morning, she had a million questions and observations: "How did they get out here? I didn't hear them leave my room? What were they doing? Are they like Woody from Toy Story?  What were they doing? Look! They've got a cracker! Oh my good gracious, Winnie the Pooh was trying to get the honey! Look! Piglet was driving! How did they all fit on this train!? Do you think they made exter (that's how she says it) trips? Can you believe they got into the crackers?! I HAVE to show this to Mommy! She is not going to believe this! How did they get out of the box? Oh my goodness, look! They stacked blocks to get out of the box? Why didn't these other guys go on the trip? What do you think they will do tonight!"

She was so excited and bewildered that I had a hard time getting her to eat breakfast and once we arrived at school she started telling everyone about it. Suffice it to say, I will be doing more of these. So much fun for her (and me!) Here's some pictures of the scene.

A zookeeper and Tigger working with Boots to set up a rope to climb into the pantry. 

Not sure why Tigger didn't just bounce across. 

The Breakfast Club. 

Sharing a cracker while the polar bear dives in the bag for more. 

Notice what Pooh is getting into. 

It's unclear if boots was on lookout or just making his way into the eatery. 

Woody was obviously supervising. 

This woman shows how they got from the floor to the chair. 
The whole scene. 

Tuesday, November 12, 2013

All in a Day's Work...

Occasionally at-home parents and primary breadwinners have discussions about our jobs and what they entail. I have found we have a lot in common, the differences are really quite subtle.

At the office, you have TPS reports, in our job we have T.P. Ass reports. "Did you wipe?! Do I need to come check?! Let's hear the T.P. Ass report!"

You punch a clock. We punch the FedEx man in the throat for ringing the bell during nap. 

You talk with co-workers at the water-cooler, we talk to ourselves at the diaper station.

There is always a line in the breakroom for the coffee machine at the office. Wait, what the...?! You have a breakroom!?  

You hate the commute. We want one.

You get a slap on the back from a co-worker, we get hugs and kisses from the kids.

Your boss is sometimes a tyrant. So are ours (though, admittedly, ours are cuter).

You have email notifications, we have verbal pings, "Daaaaaad!"

At the office, employees expect constant feedback, at home the kids want you to look at and appreciate every squiggle they make on a piece of paper.

Working parents have lunch with peers, at home parents have lunch with smears. (A reader pointed out, at-home parents also have lunch with peers. Peer: one who pees.)

In the office, you discuss the direction of the company. At home we reinforce, "up the steps and down the slide!"

With public restrooms privacy is hard to come by. At home with children, one is never alone in the bathroom.

In cubicles you can hear the neighbor typing and chatting on the phone. At home, everyone chews with their mouth open and whines incessantly.

Co-workers in the office occasionally don't get along. Siblings at home are often in engaged in open battle.

Working parents have to bring work home sometimes. At-home parents live at work.

Occasionally, the bosses shit on us both.

In the office, the copier is always broken. At home, the DVD player has a sandwich in it.

You have the guy whose foreign accent is difficult to understand at work. We have a toddler who thinks "Ayyyy," "Dooooh!" and "Arrgghh!" are meaningful phrases for communicating their desires.

At work, parents often deal with a drama queen or king who takes every slight personally. At-home parents have those too and at home they will scream at the top of their lungs and fling themselves on the floor because you asked them not to throw a harmonica at you.

At work the bosses are sometimes repetitive. At home, all phrases, screams and cries are repeated until you acknowledge and comply with the tyrants.

At the office, your bosses are never satisfied with your work. At home, the bosses are never satisfied with anything (unless they have a sucker in their mouth at that very moment).

At the end of the week you get a paycheck. At the end of the week we get more laundry.

You get memos, we get a runny nose.

I love my job, but it IS a job. Thank you to all the working parents (at home and at the office) the world keeps on turning thanks to you. We should take some paid time off, do you think we could leave the kids with your office for a few days while we get away?