Big Changes at The Urban Daddy: Welcoming Our Newest Addition!


We have made some significant changes at The Urban Daddy because change is good!  Besides, what is better than a Daddy blogger?  A Daddy blogger AND a Mommy blogger!

Joining The Urban Daddy will be The Urban Twin Mommy, who brings the experience and expertise of parenting twins (one boy and one girl – both, coincidentally, are 5-years-old!)!

Here is The Urban Twin Mommy;

“Thanks for welcoming me to the world of The Urban Daddy! While I’m not a daddy, I’m definitely not your typical mommy.

Aside from being a mom of the most delicious, obnoxious, beautiful, pain-in-the-ass twins (who everyone fondly refer to as The Bears), my friends will tell you that I’m likely the most honest, no bullshit mom you’ve met. Here are a few mantras I live by:

My kids can be assholes, so can yours.

Not all babies are cute! My son was born beautiful, my daughter looked like my husband on a chicken body (luckily, she’s grown into herself and is stunning, in my unbiased opinion).

I love my husband, he loves me and we try not to maim or kill each-other while trying to raise two little humans.

I don’t lie to my kids. I explain the reality in a way their almost 5-year-old brains can comprehend. Or I tell them to ask Daddy.

Hubby can be an asshole. I can be a bigger asshole.

Postpartum depression f@#$ing sucks. I had it. I talk about it. I’ll keep talking about it until the world understands what it is and how it can affect moms.

I swear like a sailor. I don’t apologize for it. Apparently, it’s a sign of intelligence… who knew?!

I often walk the line between ‘Super Awesome Fun’ Mom and ‘Psycho, we better call a grandparent’ Mom

Well, that’s a enough about me for the time being… I can’t give away all the intrigue, now can I?!

I’m looking forward to adding some great, regular content here, and fixing all of the spelling and grammer mistakes in all the older 1250 posts!!  (Learn to spell check, Warren!)

The Urban Twin Mommy

Follow me on Twitter @UrbanTwinMommy.  You’ll also find me sometimes @realurbandaddy, with each tweet signed off MB for Mama Bear.

I’ll also pop over to TheUrbanDaddy on Facebook to bring some more oomph to that page.  :)”

 

Please help me in welcoming The Urban Twin Mommy!

 

 

 

 

Overheard at Tim Horton’s – The WORST THING EVER!!!


I overhear this conversation at Tim Horton’s recently between a couple of millennials, which caught my attention because it started with one turning to the other and declaring, “OMG! Do you know what is the WORST!”

So I had to listen.

Now you get the details of the “worst”… You might want to sit down for this!

“OMG you know what is the WORST!”

“What?”

“When you order a Coke and they bring you a Pepsi…”

“GASP

“…Without telling you.”

“I know, eh?”

“I mean, it’s so NOT okay for that to happen. They’re two completely different products and you should be warned.”

“Totally… Like when you order coffee with sugar but they forget to put in the sugar…”

“No… Not like that at all.”

“Oh.”

Silence.

Now, I had always imagined the “worst” being something far more catastrophic, like losing a child, or a spouse, or war, famine, natural disasters, but hey… Getting a Pepsi when you order a coke could be pretty bad… Like not being able to download that song for free right away, or not having WiFi available…

Can I Tell You About: Fenestration


Can I tell you about frustration, err, Fenestration…  You tell me if you’ve had an experience like this before.

First off, this is Fenestration:

Fenestration.JPG

Fenestration stands 68 inches tall and 88 inches wide.

I hate her!

I mean, she’s nice and all, but I hate her because of the bad memories that come with her as a result of a bad decision on my part, and my inability to be mean / stand up for myself.

When my wife and I purchased our previous house, Fenestration was hanging in the family room over the couch.  They room had a built-in wall unit on one wall, a built-in fireplace on the other wall, and a window on the third wall.  With 12 foot ceilings, Fenestration made the room.

But it wasn’t ours… It was art which belonged to the previous owner.

On moving day, the previous owner asked me if we had any interest in Fenestration, because it was too big for his new condo, and it really made the room.

I agreed, and figured that after buying the house, it was a nice throw in which I could always sell if we found something nicer.

“Great!” he said… “Just give me $200 bucks for it.”

<screecchhhh>

“What? $200 bucks???  I don’t want it, thanks anyways”, was my reply.

“No, you should keep it”, he declared.

“Okay, but I’m not paying $200 bucks for it”, was my response.

Apparently, I wasn’t clear, because I had no intention on paying him for this painting and he expected $200 from me, that he showed up at the house 6 times over the next 2 weeks asking for the $200.

I finally told him to come get the painting, but he somehow talked me out of that.

So I caved…

Gave him $200.

Told my wife he backed off his price.

She didn’t buy that story for a second.

So Fenestration hung on the wall for almost 5-years at that house, reminding me that I should have told him to take the damn thing or better, to just throw it in since we had bought his damn house.

Then we moved again… 5 years ago…

One of the last things I moved was Fenestration!

Rode down the main street at 2 in the morning with Fenestration flapping up and down due to the wind.  She refused to break… Damn her!

And now in our new house, Fenestration lives in the basement playroom beside the treadmill and under the hanging TV.  I use that treadmill twice a week, and each time I curse Fenestration!

I tried to sell Fenestration recently, asking $200.01 for the painting and had some quick responses.  One asked me to take $50, the other $150.  Neither deals went through.

I even go an offer from Nigeria to sell Fenestration for $10,000, but I balked at giving them my bank details, social insurance number and PIN number.

This summer, I will sell Fenestration!  I have to.  But I will always have this post to remind me about her, and of course, my wife and he story which might start like this; “… remember that time you stupidly…”

Manchester Tragedy Crossed The Line


What happened last night in Manchester, England crossed the line.

The cowardly killing of innocent children – mainly girls – by a (hate to quote the US President, but I have to) LOSER, has repulsed pretty much every living and breathing person with a heart and a pulse.

The fact that this loser waited until the end of the show…

Ah, forget it.

He’s a loser.  A murderer.  A coward.  He deserves to be dead.  His victims do not.  He’s not going to heaven, he’s not getting any virgins.  He’s going to rot like the worthless piece of trash that he was.

Now the UK needs to do this right and they need to go round up anyone and everyone who knew him, who taught him, who called him a friend, or a family and they need to send the message that friends of losers and family of losers and teachers of losers are losers too.

The UK need to act fast and act swiftly, and go through their list of “suspected” losers and round them up now.  Screw their human rights.  Honestly.  They’re on the government’s watch list not because they’ve been good citizens but because they’re potential criminals, talking to bad evil guys and because they’re going to do something bad.

It’s time to take action for the safety of society.  Reasoning and rationalizing, sympathizing and understanding, banning and stereotyping and not the options that are going to bring a close to this problem.

Speaking up and being a solid contributing member of society will.

To each and every hero who helped the sick, dying, hurt and scared last night, I say thank you a thousand times.  It’s your courage and your kindness and your compassion which keep everyone’s faith in society.

If I believed in hell, I’d say rot in hell, losers.

I just hope and pray that we can continue to keep our kids safe, teach them right from wrong, and that we need to be a kind, supporting, inclusive society so losers don’t feel that they need to cowardly take their own lives and those of little girls and other people.

 

No Tres-Passing… Once, Twice or even Three Times…


It’s amazing what you get from a 6-year-old who blends the English language with another language and processes it using their special wit and humour.

While stopped at a red light, my daughter must have noticed a sign which read;

She asked me; “What does No Trespassing mean, Daddy?”

“It means you are not allowed on that property / land… Why? Where did you see that?” I asked.

“Oh, over there, in the construction site” she answered.

Then she continued… “But I thought “trespassing” meant you had to pass the place 3 times… Like Uno, Dues, Tres… you know, Daddy… Tres-passing…”

“Ah, I know dear… Very clever!”

I love it.