Episode 110: Losing the battle, losing the war.

I have come to find that fatherhood is essentially a game of survival. Every day is just a series of tiny battles that make up a larger war against an enemy that I created with my own seed. An enemy that lures you in with kindness and love, and then destroys you with psychological weaponry that is much too sophisticated for such a young opponent.

Having children essentially eliminates all manhood that you once had, mainly because you are not given the opportunity to protect it. Case and point: Today I wore a purple, flowered Dora the Explorer hat, three sizes too small for my giant adult melon, for over three hours. Why? Because Av made me. You see, every second of my day is a battle. Every second. The first thing Av used to say when she woke up was 'Hi daddy! Kitties?' Now it is 'Pop?' Then I say, 'No pop?' Then she says 'Pop' and I say ' No pop.' and so on and so forth until she finally says 'No pop? Why?' 'Because it is 6:45 in the morning.' Then she either A. yells at me or B. continues asking for a pop. Even if I don't give her one I have still lost the battle because she eventually just annoys me enough where she ends up with something that she isn't supposed to have.

Then we come to drawing time. No matter what I do at drawing time it isn't right. If I sit down she wants me to stand up. If I am standing she wants me to sit down. If we are in the playroom using crayons she wants to use her chalk. If we are using chalk she wants to play with her cars. Whatever the case, you had better believe that I am always in the wrong. I don't want to make this sound like it is all negative. I mean, often times she is very sweet about her demands. But don't let that cute face fool you, she knows what she is doing and she knows how to win.

This is precisely why she hasn't napped in two days. Every day is the same. We do our activities in the morning and by 11-12 she passes out in the car. I get her home, carry her sleeping body to her crib and she wakes up as soon as she is set down. I try to slip out of the room and she starts to scream. Then she stops for a minute to trick me in to thinking she is asleep, then she starts crying again. Eventually we come full circle back to the screaming There is never any sleep. She does this because she knows that I will go get her. It is going on right now. I don't care. She needs to sleep. When she doesn't sleep she is a dick. She yells at me. She hits me. She throws food. Another battle lost. Maybe I should leave her in there one day. She would probably just end up flipping out of her crib, opening the door and hitting me in the face. Still a loss.

The reason I bring this up is this. I want to warn all of you out there who think you want kids before you all start doing anything drastic. They are adorable and you will love them and love spending time with them, but you will never have a normal life again. They will tear out your soul and test your patience at every turn. They will damage your psyche and fill your day with mindless chatter. I love my daughter more than anything but, damn, some days I just want her to silently read for six hours straight and leave me alone. Is that mean? Probably only if you don't have kids.

As if the psychological damage of fatherhood isn't affecting me enough, it is now compounded by the horrible realization that I am an old man. Seriously, I am the oldest 26-year-old that I know. I know that I have written about this on occasion before, but it is getting worse. Parenthood by nature rapidly withers your external appearance and the shear exhaustion of sleeping about a quarter of the amount that your body requires- and the aforementioned mind games- effectively adds years to your mental age as well. And now we have officially completed the cycle. We have connected the third line to the aging triangle of eventual death. Joining mental exhaustion, and the deterioration of my once-fit, young, healthy body is... Pain. Yes, pain. The final peg. The one that means I have to start taking two Alieve every day just to prevent the pain from being that bad. Yesterday I somehow managed to injure my hip. I wasn't doing anything all that strenuous, just moved in the wrong direction and heard a pop and felt a sharp shooting pain.

It didn't go away. It will never go away. I am just going to have a sore hip for the rest of my life. Ok, ok, I am being a little bit dramatic, but that is how I feel. I mean, who hurts their hip in their 20's? No one does. Today at the park my hip injury prevented me from climbing on the apparatus with Av in an effective manor. I still did it, but I sure wasn't mobile when I did. This is depressing. Mobility should not be an issue with me I want to be monkeying around like those other kids without getting sore or winded or tired. I also got dizzy when we went down the slide. C'mon.

Whenever I start to get depressed about my age, lack of employment or stressed about being a dad Lous CK always makes me feel better. I think he hits the nail on the head with this one. This is exactly how I feel. Again, NSFW.

Today at the park

It has been a long time since we have had such an interesting day at the park, but today was one for the record books. Longtime blog readers may remember me mentioning one of my old bosses, a pony-tailed Wiccan with a creepy voice and knack for being the most awkward person in the room at any time. If you aren't familiar, all you need to know is that he is about 6'5, shaped like an oil drum with a pony tail and a Captain Morgan goatee. He no longer works at our restaurant, but he still lives in Salem with his half Mexican wife and their two young boys.

At the park today we ran in to the wife and boys, who obviously don't know who I am, and we eventually ended up playing with them. Here is the thing. These are the strangest people I have ever met in my entire life. Sitting with them at their picnic table were two dogs and a black cat on a leash. They were dressed in identical striped Mr. Rogers sweaters and both boys, aged 3 and 17-months, had pony tails. How do you even grow hair that fast when you are that young? It really made me feel bad for the kids. When you are that young all you know are your parents and you idolize them, so the pony tails make sense, but how tough is life going to be when you go to school looking like a 5-year-old Kevin Smith?

I'm not here to judge anyone's religion, but I would assume that going to school with the whole Wiccan thing going in is going to make them an easy target for bullies as it is, the poor things just have no chance. Anyway, we ended up playing with them and they were pretty nice kids, and Av got to pet the dogs and the leash cat and it was a good time, until yet another group of Marblehead fuckhead kids showed up.

I am about at the end of my rope with the privileged kid thing after the whole school incident, and the ones that we met at the park today were about as bad as they get. Popped collars, khaki shorts and names like Harrison, Marley and Layla (someone loves classic rock), this group came in and just started terrorizing everyone. First of all, I have no idea why they weren't in school because they were like, 5-years-old, and the first thing they decide to do when they get to the park is plow through Av and her new Wiccan friends on the way up to the slide. Knocked her right on her ass. Of course, their 'I don't have to work' parents were not paying any attention so they just ran amok, stealing everyone's toys and balls, throwing rocks and monopolizing the slides. I had just about had enough and was going to leave when one of them, unsupervised, jumped off the top of some playground apparatus on to the top of another one back yard wrestling style, hurting them both and causing both to start crying. Did I help either one? YOu bet your ass I didn't. Screw you, rich kids.

Music.

Today's musical selections are from Av. On the way to the park she was having a dance party in the back seat and these are three of her favorites. The last one is the best, because she really got in to it and started swaying back and forth in the car seat with her eyes closed.

First is Jimi Hendrix. This is my favorite Hendrix song so I was happy that she liked it, also.



Next is the Talking Heads. She loves classic rock, what can I say? Maybe I should have named her like those rich kids. Van Zandt Baer. Has a nice ring to it.



This last one is my favorite of the three. Tom Waits is a crazy son of a bitch. He could give that Dos Equis fraud a run for his money as the Most Interesting Man in the World title, too. She listened to this whole album and loved it, but this song got the best dance.