Coffee is the lifeblood of all good Fathers!

I was walking through Target the other day, holding my 8-year old daughter's hand, and came across the coffee pot section.  I looked at the different models and said aloud to myself, "I wonder what the difference is between the $100 coffee pot and the $20 coffee pot?"  My 8-year old turned to me and with a matter-of-fact tone said, "the price."

I was never much of a coffee drinker.  I didn't drink it when I was in the Army.  I didn't drink it in college.  I didn't drink it in my 20's.  But, somewhere along the line, after children emerged in our family, I started.  I'm yoked to coffee, it is my source of inspiration, my machismo, my clarity, my deep thoughts.  If we want to create a business model, we need coffee.  If we want to write a book, we need coffee.  If we want to write this BLOG...we need Coffee!  I'm starting to sound like Gollum from Lord of the Rings, "Coffee is my...PRECIOUSSSSSSS!" 

Sorry, I've derailed, I'm jittery from too much coffee. 

Oh, please chime in with your knowledge about costs of coffee pots...I can't, for the life of me, justify the cost of a $100 coffee pot.  I'm hoping you can shed some light on the issue for me.

OC Dad...Out

I have a story to tell about this banner, but I'm not sure I can do it right now.  Let's just say that there are a couple of emails that I want to publish along with this shot to express the psychotic insanity that I've experienced with Nutball Parents on the soccer field this season.  

Gonna let this one stew a bit first. 

Sunscreen Take 2

See the black line?  That is how much sunscreen is left after using this spray-on product all spring and summer!!  So, for a family of 5 living in southern California, this product from Rocky Mountain Sunscreen is well worth the price.  The convenience of application is the reason I wanted to try this experiment.  I will say, there was a lot of talk this summer about NOT applying this sunscreen near an open fire...highly flammable.  Believe it or not, there were a couple of times when this rang clear for me...once while applying near a lit candle in the house and once when applying near a gas grill while on a camp out.  Neither time resulted in any kind of harm, because I remembered last minute not to apply near an open flame. 

This OC Dad highly recommends this product!

Freaking Hilarious

When you're a 39-year-old, father of three, there are few things that can make you double-over with laughter...I mean life is just way too serious...right?  Anyway, at "drop-off" (Parents understand what that means) this morning, I witnessed something truly hilarious. 
Now, my kids go to a public school, but it's a very nice school surrounded by million-dollar homes and some of the parents can be a bit pretentious.  That said, it's not uncommon to see 40+ year old moms that had a successful career before motherhood and now show up to school with their black spandex workout attire and store-bought body parts.
This morning was no exception, but it appeared that one of these moms decided to let Fido join the kids on the ride to school.  My assumption is that Fido decided to jump out of the Escalade when the kids got out and enjoy a long run.  So, as I'm getting out of my truck with my girls I was startled by the quick little dog that came from nowhere, swirled around my feet for a few and then ran off to the next car.  I looked around and saw the owner, a previously described spandex mom apologizing to everyone and seemingly calm and in control...nope.
For the next 10 minutes, as parents and kids from all over scurried into the school grounds, spandex mom chased Fido UP and DOWN the main street where most people drop off.  She looked like a giraffe...she would lope down about 50 yards with Fido 20 feet in front of her and then stop...slap her knees and say, "come here" in a soft and cutsie voice.  SUVs are ambling by with gawkers staring out the window.  Parents are standing, cross armed and wonderment.  "Come here," she would say again, and Fido would run toward and do a last minute cut left or right and zoom past her...right in the middle of the street mind you.  Off spandex mom would trot, more chasing, more embarrassment, more fatigue I'm sure. 
When Fido finds a glove lying in the gutter, he picks it up and parades up and down before kids and parents, triumphantly destroying any dignity spandex mom once had in the community.  She is shaken and weak.  It's at this point that I turn to my girls, chuckling at the spectacle and tell them that if that was our dog, I would snap its neck and toss it into the gutter...as a public service and apology. 
The bell rings, I usher my girls to their classes and only assume that she eventually caught the dog and stuck it in the Escalade because I see her finally coming through the gate as I'm leaving.  She makes no eye-contact, wants no more scrutiny...she's just trying to get little Johnny to class on time.  It doesn't matter though, her mom cred is shot, she might as well switch schools.
For me, I'm disappointed that I didn't videotape the whole thing on my phone, but sometimes you have to just witness pure comedy with your own eyes.

 (Dog in the picture is Our dog, Lady, she never gets too far away from me, if I call her, she comes running!)

weight-gain

When you're a dad, the first place you gain weight is in the luv-handles...it's also the LAST place you will lose weight.
I've lost 20lbs since January and my "bloop-bloops" are still hanging over my BVDs.
Hollister Ads depress me!
 

"Bite Me"...that's what she yelled from across the field

Soccer field...9:30am Saturday...Yorba Linda California.  I'm coaching my 7-year-old's team...the green strikers and we're missing two of our better players.  A mixup in the email chain left us playing short...grid-iron-soccer.  For three and a half quarters we keep our dignity against our opponent, the number one team, but are still loosing 2-0.  Finally, my assistant coach and his daughter, our best player, show up!  We ask to sub her in for the last 3 minutes of the game...I'm not sure what the rules are, but SHE'S 7-YEARS OLD FOR GOODNESS SAKE.  The ref is cool with it, but I suddenly hear some "hen party" start up on the opposite side of the field.  Some boisterous soccer mom is clucking around about the depravity!  I yell across, "Is it really that big of a deal?"  Her response, "Bite Me!"

I didn't hear it.  Lucky for her...I didn't hear it!  BUT, all the parents on my sideline did and the drama ensued...but turned into our own hen party with a cluck-cluck here and a cluck-cluck there.  Before I knew it, the game was over, we still had a goose...I mean chicken egg on the scoreboard and I was left to internalize the childishness that we parents vicariously envelope when trans-competing through our kid's games.

As an adult-child, had I heard the insult, I would have invited the lady to the parking lot, where the other parents would form a circle around us, and we would duke it out.  All the while hearing, "fight! fight! fight!" chanted in the background.

Sun screen is TOO expensive!

It's spring and summer is just around the corner.  Last night, I got online, and purchased A GALLON of spray-on sunscreen.  What can I say, I'm a Dad...and I'm sick of paying $8.99 for a little spray bottle that lasts two times at the beach.  Some of you are saying, "you can buy the lotion...it's cheaper."  To that I say, "you are clearly not a Dad!"
Yes, I paid $130 plus shipping for this gallon of Rocky Mountain Sunscreen, but it has a 3 year shelf life and I'm hoping to get at least two summers out of it!

I'll keep you posted on how it goes.

Dad...out.

Nothing says FUN like a duct-taped, non-working video game system in the play area of a McDonald's. Dirty Diapers anyone?

Nasty!

NumNum

I thought we only had three children, but I have recently learned that a forth child, named NumNum lives in secret inside our house. NumNum is the child that is responsible for the messes that my wife and I consistently stumble upon. If a light is left on...NumNum must have done it. If there are Lego's all over the floor...NumNum. If the craft room is thrashed...you guessed it...NumNum!

You Know You're a DAD If:

your son's shirt looks like he fell on a pizza on the way home from a friends house.

when you brush your daughter's hair, it feels like she used it to eat ice cream the night before.

the refrigerator handle feels like a topographical map.

you take 3 ibuprofen BEFORE the piano recital...and you don't even have a headache.

you don't mind attending a business meeting with a Disney character band-aide on your finger.

you can peel the top layer off of the ipad screen and eat it like a fruit-roll-up.

Coaching

Dads are coaches. I coach one of my daughters soccer teams. It occurred to me, after reflecting on the season, that there were many annoying characteristics about sports and competition today that are totally unnecessary. Here's an example:

Our soccer team went 5 and 5. When we won a game, the other team would chant, "two-four-six-eight, who do we appreciate...Pink Lemonade!" WE were Pink Lemonade. In other words, to show us what good sports they were, they cheered for us when we beat them!! What the? THEN, when we lost a game, WE had to chant, "two-four-six-eight, who do we appreciate...wiggle worms (or whatever the H they were)!" I was so proud when my youngest daughter said after a nail-biting loss, "I don't want to cheer for them!" I thought, "I don't either!" When did we start this crap?? We don't have to cheer and chant and praise a team that just beat us!! It's all PCP (Political Correct Parenting)! I want my kids to be in TEARS when they loose, because they gave everything they had out there...to win! I'm not saying they're going to win every time, but we don't have to be happy about loosing.

America was built out of a competitive spirit and I'm not ready to change that attitude simply because of a "let's just have fun" motto.

Make it happen.