Category Archives: Feeding

A Hideable Feast

Posted on by
2

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

Posted on by
Reply

"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…

Posted on by
Reply

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.”

What The Hell Are You Wearing?

Posted on by
4

In my line of work, it’s not uncommon to hear “Who are you wearing?” Hollywood and the fashion industry tend to go hand-in-hand. However, the question not often asked is “What the hell are you wearing?” and the possible follow-up, “What’s that smell?” After this morning, no amount of showering or detergent will be able to wash away the multitude of “specimens” I found myself wearing.

At 6am, Garrett woke up. I rushed into the kitchen and made him an 8 ounce bottle of formula. As per our usual routine, I went to his room with the bottle, got him out of the crib, changed him, and then fed him. After about 6 ounces, Garrett decided to stop eating and he waived off the bottle. I thought it was weird because The Priluck Boys are bottomless pits. Garrett turned towards me, smiled, and then blasted me with all 6 ounces of hot, milk spit-up. It covered his pajamas, my shirt, my pants, and the chair. I placed him on his changing table and proceeded to change him a second time.

While he was naked on the changing table, I decided to “eat his chicken wings.” (This is something I started with Justin. Basically, you lift the child’s arm, stick your face into their armpit, and then chow down as they laugh.) As I buried my face into his armpit, I quickly realized that his teething slobber had made its way out of his mouth, down his chin, across his chest, and into his armpit. My face was now covered in his “slime.” After my aborted tickling opportunity, Garrett half rolled over towards me and then sprayed me with pee-pee. I think it was his way of saying, “Hey, asshole! Don’t forget my diaper.” I quickly diapered him and then changed my clothes.

Thirty minutes later, Justin joined us in the kitchen and announced that he wanted waffles for breakfast. I prepared his breakfast as required. However, as I was putting away the syrup, it slipped out of my hand and hit the ground. Normally, I would think “no big deal” because it’s in a plastic container. Somehow I dropped it at just the right angle and as it hit the ground, it exploded. There was syrup everywhere – the sink, the counter, down the sides of the cabinets, the floor, and finally – all over me! I cleaned it the best I could, but now we have a sticky kitchen floor. (To GWE – Hi, honey. Can you pick up some syrup on the way home? We’re out.)

They say that women who live together long enough end up having their cycles sync. I suspect that we have a version of that in our house as well. When one child is eating, the other becomes hungry. Garrett decided that he was hungry again after watching Justin maul his waffles. (And, who wouldn’t be hungry after spitting up?) I made him a breakfast of bananas mixed with rice cereal. After three bites, he stopped and made a strange face. He then proceeded to sneeze a mixture of bananas and boogers on me. We shall call this “Banoogers.” Gross.

I finished feeding Garrett and moved on to feed our fish. As I opened the lid to drop in the flakes, “Fred the Undead” decided to angrily splash tank water on me. My seven year old, 99 cent, one-eyed, no finned, no longer gold, goldfish managed to “flap” his poop water at me in an effort to tell me that it was time to clean the tank.

As I walked back into the bedroom to FINALLY take a shower, I ended up stepping on a half-sucked throat lozenge courtesy of Justin. I have no idea why he thought it was a good idea to just spit it out onto the floor. I didn’t mind at this point. I was already sticky from the syrup.

And finally, after stepping out of the shower, I noticed a little patch of scruff that I had missed while shaving yesterday. With one swipe, I shaved the area and still managed to nick myself enough to bleed. Fantastic!

Let’s recap. Before 8:30am, I was wearing:

  1. Spit Up
  2. Slobber slime
  3. Pee-pee
  4. Syrup
  5. Bananas + Boogers = Banoogers
  6. Disgusting fish tank water
  7. Half sucked lozenge
  8. Blood

So, I say unto all you fathers out there living with young children – What the hell are YOU wearing today?!?!?!

All I Want for Passover is My Two Front Teeth

Posted on by
Reply

It is said that we celebrate Passover to commemorate the story of the Exodus from Egypt. During the Seder, there is a lot of praying, a lot of Manischewitz, and the occasional plague. This year’s Seder was unlike any other for two reasons: 1) We discovered that “teething” should be added to the list of deadly plagues. And, 2) I almost considered reenacting Plague #10 myself by killing our first born due to his uncharacteristically obnoxious behavior. What started as such a promising and exciting celebration ended in frustration, tears, and delicious left-overs.

We arrived at the home of MOGWE and FOGWE at the time they had requested. GWE and I unloaded the car and brought in bags of clothes for the kids, toys, playmates for the baby, food for the baby, etc. Anything and everything we could have needed, we brought – just in case. It looked like we were moving in. Justin was happy to see his Uncle Ethan and everyone proceeded to move into the den for appetizers and drinks.

FOGWE surprised Justin with a remote controlled car. I immediately told Justin that he could play with it, but to be careful and not drive it over his baby brother who was lying on the play mat in the middle of the room. Justin handed me the car and asked me to put batteries into it. I proceeded to quickly load the car with batteries, placed it on the ground, flicked on the remote….and then I drove it directly over Garrett!!  (Yes – I am a wonderful role model.)

What you should know is that Garrett has been teething recently. There is saliva (“slime”) everywhere. It’s on his clothes, his chin, and his fingers. He swallows it so it’s in his belly and comes out with his poop, ie diarrhea. GWE and I decided to pick him up and place him on my lap so that he could see the Passover Appetizer action! He smiled, saw the chopped liver and gefilte fish, and then blasted 4 oz of a baby formula/saliva mix all over my pants and GWE’s pants. We were “slimed” for the evening. There is nothing like having hot-and-then-ice-cold puke on your clothes for the rest of the night!

Then, we passed him off to MOGWE, who gave him a few more ounces of formula. Garrett proceeded to thank her by spitting up a few more ounces all over her blouse, pants, and shoes. She passed him back to us and left to get changed again. In the meantime, we were struggling to soothe Garrett out of discomfort due to his teething.

We all then proceeded to the dinner table. GWE had Garrett to her right and I sat diagonally across from Justin. As FOGWE attempted to lead the table in ceremony and prayer, he simply could not be heard over the sounds of my five month old babbling out of pain and my five year old being silly at the table. Justin knows when he has a captive audience and that dinner table became his playground. He would not be quiet, he would not sit still, and he would not follow directions…..so, he was being a five year old.

After a VERY abbreviated ceremony, GWE decided to try and put Garrett to sleep in the crib. At this point, we were both starting to get worn down due to Garrett’s discomfort and Justin’s behavior. After a few minutes, we decided to check on him. He was as awake and as pissed as ever.

As the traditional Matzo Ball soup was being served, GWE and I made the executive decision to bring Garrett back to the table to give him his solids. I sat in GWE’s seat to feed Garrett, GWE took my seat, and then Garrett began to devour whatever I put into his mouth. It only took about 10 minutes for Garrett to finish his food and for our food to be served. However, this was 10 long minutes and Justin was nowhere to be found.

I decided to pass the baby back to GWE and I went searching for Justin. Unfortunately, I found him. As I opened the bathroom door, I discovered Justin with his hands in his hair and his hair soaking wet. There was water EVERYWHERE! He had wet down his head and used the liquid hand soap as shampoo. “JUSTIN!!! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!?!?!” I demanded to know. “I’m cleaning my hair, daddy,” he replied. I grabbed the towel behind him, tried to dry his soapy hair, gave up, and then marched him back to the table. He knew I was very upset, but I was exhausted and tired of him not listening. As we got closer and closer to the table, he begged to not be seen. My patience had ended and I tried to drag him to the table – kicking and screaming. MOGWE stepped in and decided to take Justin back to the bathroom to clean him up. I sat down and began to quietly eat my chicken.

Honestly, the rest of the evening was kind of a blur. I remember dessert and Justin finding the Afikoman. But, that’s about it.

As we drove home in silence, I thought about the evening and how it actually was reminiscent of a real Exodus. We had come to the grandparents’ house in hopes of good food and shelter, but my two little plagues practically destroy everything. And then, we were free to leave.