Category Archives: Crying

Hey Baby! You’re ugly, but you intrigue me. Let’s go back to my crib!

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It’s 4:30am. Do you know where your children are?

When I was in college, my buddies and I had a system for determining which women (we met in bars) were attractive and which ones were not. It was a very scientific, well-thought out method. Einstein would have been proud. The formula was as such: “Time of Night” times “Amount of Alcohol Consumed” divided by “Need for Companionship” equals “X”. (X) = Cuteness Factor. For example, a ”9:00pm -Oh, hell no!” could (with time, alcohol, and “need”) become a “12:00am – She’s cute.” I remember a few nights when friends took home girls who started as a “10:00pm – I think that’s a dude” but became a “1:30am – Her lazy eye and limp are sexy.” Luckily, when I was in a bar, I played by The Kenny Rogers’ Rule: You gonna know when to hold ‘em, know when to fold ‘em. I always felt that it was better to walk away early than to try and chew off my own arm the next morning to escape.

Now that I’m older, wiser, and a parent – I’ve been wondering if the “Cuteness Factor” can be applied to my own children.

Several nights ago, Garrett began to cry at 4:15am. Usually, I would chalk this up to a nightmare or maybe he got his foot stuck between the bars of the crib. I assumed that he would be fine given a few moments. But he wasn’t. He continued to cry…and cry…and cry…and cry. At 4:30, I went in to get him. I changed his diaper, checked to make sure that he was in one piece, and then I returned him to the crib. Once again, he began to cry…and cry…and cry. At that moment, the reality hit me that I had to stay up with him.

Together, we got a drink of milk, played with his toys, rough-housed, had a little more milk, watched television, sang songs, read a book, rough housed some more, and then I made him an early breakfast. As we sat on the sofa, I looked over at him to see if his “cuteness factor” warranted my lack of sleep. I looked at his giant head, his pudgy legs, his mop of curly hair, and the drool and snot that was rolling off of his face. He turned to look at me while I was staring at him. He smiled….and then, he burped and farted at the same time, looked very surprised, and then laughed out loud.

“Oh, I didn’t see you there!”

Yup – he’s “4:30am – Cute Enough for Me!”

Fred the Frugal Tooth Fairy

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This is not the first dad blog about a child losing a tooth. This isn’t even the first dad blog about a child losing a tooth today! This is about something more important – TOOTH MONEY!

For the past few days, Justin has been wiggling another loose tooth. Twice, we sat down to try and pull it out…but it just wasn’t ready. Two days ago, Justin walked up to me and said, “It’s time daddy.” I said ok, grabbed a tissue, and I positioned myself to yank out #24. (I am the son of a dentist. Random information like this is stuck in my brain.) Instead, he held out his right hand and stopped me. With his left hand, he reached into his own mouth and plucked the tooth out all by himself!  (Like a MAN!)

Now, it was Tooth Fairy Time. What you should know is that I gave Justin’s Tooth Fairy a name after Justin lost his first tooth. But GWE told me not to use that name because “it’s too silly and he’ll know it’s you (meaning, me) and he also knows your (me, again) handwriting.” Yes, I can be silly. However, I did not realize that our son had a degree in Graphology (the pseudoscience of Handwriting Analysis) and that he was prepared to use CSI techniques to uncover the identity of “The Tooth Fairy.” So the first note to Justin was nice and very generic.

This time, I gave The Tooth Fairy a name – Fred. Why did I name him Fred? Because everything in our house that gets named by us (minus the children) usually gets named “Fred.” Our fern is “Fred.” We have two fish: “Fred” and “Fred the Undead.” Plus, I’m pretty sure “Fred the Feces” was hiding in Garrett’s diaper this morning.

I finished “Fred the Tooth Fairy’s” letter to Justin and attached a five dollar bill. Patiently, I waited until I was satisfied that Justin was asleep before attempting to “take the tooth and leave the money.” (See below) Before I was able to “accomplish my mission,” GWE walked into the house. She approved of the note, but not of the money. She told me that five dollars was way too much and that a dollar should suffice. I disagreed. I thought five dollars was fine (although, still a little cheap.)

So, readers – I leave it to you! What is the right amount of money to leave a child when a tooth falls out?


This is the best sketch I have ever seen about Tooth Fairies!

You Are One Sick Bastard

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As men, we are notoriously childish when we become sick. I will admit that I am not immune to this behavior. The last time I got the flu – I buried myself in bed, imagined that I was dying, and repeatedly asked GWE for some soup…..and the decency to wait a respectful amount of time before marrying someone else after I was gone.

Last week, it was Garrett’s turn. Out of nowhere, he spiked a fever on Thursday evening. He was miserable for the next 24 hours. We thought it was a cold or maybe “extreme” teething. Whatever it was, he was not himself. He cried and cried and cried and cried. Like any good dad, on Friday morning I kissed my wife on the cheek and ran out of the house as fast as possible – leaving GWE to tend to our ailing son. It was her problem now!

Over the next few days, his fever came and went. After it finally subsided, Garrett broke out in a rash of red welts. The rash was most noticeable on his face, chest, arms, legs, and butt. After consulting a pediatrician, Web MD, and a “Your Baby’s First Year” book, we realized he had Roseola.

Roseola is a viral disease caused by human herpesvirus 6 and it affects children under two. The symptoms are puffy eyes, sore throat, runny nose, irritability, etc. And, there is no known treatment. It just goes away on its own.

This morning on my way into work, Garrett Morris called me to discuss some updates on projects we were working on. (If you don’t know yet, my son was named after Garrett Morris.) Garrett casually asked how the family was and I proceeded to explain that “Little Garrett” was home sick with Roseola. Garrett paused and asked, “Is that a new name for something I’d recognize?”

“Yes. It’s like Baby Measles.” I replied. And then I gave Garrett more information than he asked for. “Actually, it’s caused by Herpes. He probably got it from one of his friends at daycare.”

At that moment, Garrett Morris erupted into laughter. When he finally composed himself, he said, “You tell those little bitches in daycare to stay away from Little Garrett!!!”

He’s Feeling Much Better Now

A Hideable Feast

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Ernest Hemingway once wrote: “Hunger is good discipline and you learn from it.” I had no intention of using hunger as a tool to teach my son a lesson, but it certainly made an impact on him this week!

On Monday, Justin asked me to make him a “special lunch” for school. The school provides lunch on a daily basis, but I think Justin was feeling a little neglected because GWE was out of town and I was spending a little more time with the baby. I happily agreed to make him the best lunch he’d ever had. (Yes, I did not realize it at the time, but I was about to set a high standard which would be impossible to maintain over time.)

With Garrett supervising from his high chair, I proceeded to make Justin a smoked turkey and lean roast beef sandwich on Milton’s bread with a little Thousand Island dressing (instead of mustard or mayo), a spinach salad with feta cheese and cherry tomatoes (sesame dressing on the side), 2 peaches from grandma’s garden, and a Danimal’s Smoothie. As a final touch, I put a “special” note on the top. I packed everything in his lunch box with enough ice packs to take down the Titanic and then we all left for school.

After dropping Garrett off in his room, Justin and I proceeded to his classroom. As we got to the kids’ gate, Justin ran up to it in an effort to hold it open for me. Unfortunately, there was another child holding the gate for his mother at the same time. The children exchanged a few words….and then fists began to fly. I quickly grabbed Justin by the shoulder and pulled him aside. I got down to his eye level and in an angry tone I told him that I was not ok with him hitting and that we had talked about this many, many times before – and then I added the final, “I’m very disappointed in you.” Justin had been in too many physical confrontations recently and it needed to stop. I was frustrated and felt that some sort of punishment was necessary.

So – I told him that I was taking away the lunch I had made for him. He would have to make do with the lunch the school provided. In that moment, Justin was destroyed. He begged and pleaded to keep the lunch, but I said “no.” He cried and he tantrumed…and I still said, “no.” I instructed him to go and play on the playground while I spoke with his teacher. With tears in his eyes, he sulked off.

When he was out of earshot, I told his teacher what had happened and about the punishment. But, then I explained that I didn’t feel right completely taking away his lunch. (No punishment should last 5 hours.) So instead, I asked her for a place to hide it in the classroom and instructed her to give it back to him at lunch. I felt satisfied with this. He would feel the sting of losing something he wanted (temporarily) and I felt like he was still getting a healthy lunch. Justin continued to cry as I left, but I knew that it would all be alright in a few hours.

At 6:00pm, I arrived back at the school to get the kids. My first stop was to get Justin. While he was preoccupied outside, I collected his belongings and signed him out. Realizing that his lunchbox was not in his cubby, I went over to other area in the room where lunchboxes and jackets were stored. Still, no lunchbox. All of a sudden, a pit grew in my stomach. I went back to the cabinet where I was instructed to “hide” his lunchbox and there it was….UNOPENED. His lunch was still inside!!

I stormed out of his classroom and up to his teacher while holding the lunchbox. I saw her face go pale and her jaw drop.

“What happened?” I asked.

“I’m so sorry! I forgot!!” She continued to explain that she took a break during lunch and forgot to tell the other teacher. She kept apologizing and I kept reassuring her that it was fine – accidents happen. But, I’m pretty sure my body language betrayed me and the truth was, I was pissed!! Justin saw me from across the playground and then he saw the lunchbox. He ran up to me and gave me a big hug. “Daddy! You brought my lunch back!” I bit my tongue and lied. “Yea buddy, I heard you had a much better day, so I brought it back.”

He told me how sorry he was for hitting his friend and that he had apologized to him later in the day. Clearly, he understood that his actions had consequences, but all I felt was guilt. As we got into the car, I told him that I was also sorry and I unwrapped the sandwich per his request. He happily ate half of it on the way home while humming with happiness.

By the way – everything was still ice cold thanks to my Syracuse-learned, Igloo, ice-packing abilities! GO ORANGE!!

The Week of Men

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"Yay!! Daddy's lost control!!!"

If you follow the “real” me on Facebook, you know that I’ve spent the past week balancing the needs of my clients with the demands of running my company all while providing the sole care for my boys because GWE was out of town. Periodically, I would chronicle what was happening – like “Robinson Crusoe” being trapped on a deserted island observing the mutineers, captives, and cannibals. Here is my “Captain’s Log” for the past six days:

Week of Men, Day 1: GWE has been gone for 10 minutes. There are already whispers of mutiny among the ranks. Or, baby farts. Not sure which….

Week of Men, Day 2: I was woken up by the sounds of “whale-mating” on the baby monitor. I rushed into Garrett’s room to find him “sucking face” with his own image in the baby mirror. Kid’s got skills!

Week of Men, Day 3: Up at 5:35am. Not cool. Garrett was singing LOUDLY and Justin decided to pee LOUDLY. It is going to be a very long day.

Week of Men, Day 3.5: For the love of God, how can it only be noon?!?!? I’ve fed the kids six times and one of them is on nap #3. The bigger one refuses to wear clothes and the smaller one has been crying because he is teething again. I’m going to my inner “happy place” now.

Week of Men, Day 4: I was woken up at 5:51am to Garrett saying “da-da” through the monitor. I was so excited that I raced into his room. He looked at me, smiled, and (again) said “da-da.” I was thrilled!! Then, he looked at the green monkey on the wall, “da-da!” And then he looked at his taggie, “da-da.” Okay – one out of three ain’t bad!!

Week of Men, Day 4.5: I just looked over and both Justin and Garrett are watching TV on the sofa while scratching their privates like Spider Monkeys. My house has become “Planet of the (Nut-Scratching) Apes!”

“It’s 4:45 in the morning….Let’s play!”

Week of Men, Day 5: Up at 4:45am thanks to Garrett screaming like a maniac because his foot was stuck in between the crib bars. At 5:10, Justin walked in and went into great detail about the water squirting aliens in his dreams. Can’t take much more. I may “safe drop” myself at the local fire station today.

Week of Men, Day 6: Let’s see – went to sleep at 2am after finishing a tracking grid for a client, Garrett woke up at 5am and called me Da-Da (got it on tape), Justin yelled at me for turning off his radio and lights in the middle of the night, did the dishes, bathed the baby, made breakfast for everyone, fed the baby, made lunch for everyone, left the house, got to the gas station, Justin yelled at me for forgetting his “Angry Bird” and then I realized that I also left my wallet at home in the diaper bag, went back home, got the wallet (and Angry Bird), handled a client crisis via cell while going back to the gas station, went to school, dropped off kids. Handled a second client request via email while driving – (sorry to everyone on the 405). Got back in the car, made my way past a huge accident, and was in the office for my 10 am conference call. My life has turned into a crazy Japanese game show!

As I am finishing this blog post, GWE just texted me that she has landed and is on her way home. I hope she is well rested because tonight – I’m taking 2 Tylenol PMs with a Sparkling Rabbi and I don’t plan on waking up until the bed sheets need changing!

4 Out of 5 Dentists Agree…

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No children were harmed in the making of this blog post…

…….Ok, that’s a lie. Only one child was harmed, but he is feeling much better now!

As a family, we practice good oral hygiene. I am the son of a dentist, which makes Justin the grandson of a dentist. Justin playfully refers to his grandfather as “Papa.” However, when he is in “Papa’s” dental office getting his teeth checked, he is all business and formally refers to my dad as “Doctor Papa.” Clean teeth are a priority!

As per his usual routine, several nights ago Justin went into our bathroom to brush his teeth. While he was in there, GWE and I sat at the kitchen table and for a few quiet moments we got a chance to catch up with one another. All of a sudden we heard Justin grunting from the bathroom. The grunts quickly got higher and louder as Justin ran into the kitchen yelling, “HOT, HOT, HOT!!” He looked panicked and there was a white, toothpaste-like foam coming out of his mouth as if he was a rabid dog. GWE and I looked at each other and thought the same thing, “It’s toothpaste. How hot could it be?”

Justin became more panicked and screamed more, “HOTHOTHOTHOTHOTHOT!!!!!” GWE quickly took him over to the kitchen sink and washed out his mouth with cold water. When all of the toothpaste had been washed away, he continued to writhe in pain. “IT BURNS!!!!!” he complained. GWE turned to Justin and asked, “Did you use toothpaste?” He nodded yes. She responded, “Show me.”

Together, they went back to the bathroom. Not 15 seconds had passed when I heard, “JASON – GET IN HERE NOW!!” I ran to the bathroom. GWE turned to Justin and instructed him to show me which toothpaste he used. (Keep in mind, there are usually 2 or 3 toothpaste tubes behind the faucet.) Justin reached over and slid open a drawer on my side of the bathroom. He pulled out a box, opened it, and showed me the tube of “paste” he had used to brush his teeth. He had accidentally used “Icy Hot.”

Side note: For those of you who don’t know what Icy Hot is – it’s a pain relieving topical cream meant to ease muscle aches, back pain, and arthritis. It is not meant to clean your teeth.

GWE continued to rinse Justin’s mouth with cold water as I re-opened the package to see if there were any warnings regarding accidentally ingesting the product. Halfway down the back of the box it states: “WARNING: Keep out of reach of children. In case of accidental ingestion, get medical help or contact a Poison Control Center right away.”

OH………..SHIT…………

Without causing any alarm to my wife or child, I briskly walked back into the kitchen and looked for the emergency contact numbers. I found the number for poison control. (It’s 1-800-222-1222, if you should ever need it.) A pleasant, English-speaking woman answered the phone. I informed her that my son had brushed his teeth with Icy Hot and I wanted to know what I needed to do.

She calmly asked me Justin’s age and weight. She then asked if he actually swallowed any of the paste. At this point, Justin and GWE were standing by me in the kitchen. I leaned down and asked, “Justin, did you swallow any of that toothpaste?” He answered “no.” I relayed that to the operator. She responded with the following: based on his age and weight, he would have had to ingest several tablespoons of Icy Hot for there to be a problem. But, just to be safe, she suggested making him drink a glass of milk. We gave him the milk and forced him to drink every last drop.

It took a few moments for the tension of this incident to pass, but once it did – Justin was fine (although GWE is still psychologically scarred from this event.) While tucking Justin into bed later that night, I once again asked him if he was okay. He replied, “Yes daddy. But, I don’t like that toothpaste. It tasted minty-hot.”