Posted in Daddy, family, Life, sleep, Stewie, urbandaddyblog

Happy 6th Birthday Stewie!


Happy Birthday
Happy 6th Birthday Stewie!

Stewie!

Finally you are 6-years-old today (tonight to be more specific). Wow.

To be honest, it kind of feels like you’ve been 6 for a long time already.   You and you almost 8-year-old brother are often mistaken for twins.  You eat the most at one seating than your family, including me, and I’ve been known to pack back the food in my day.  You are strong like a bull, like your father, which you proved to us and a bunch of 6-year-old’s when you singlehandedly helped your team win a tug-of-war where you were the anchor.  You are driven, determined, serious, focussed and everything else that people look at and follow up with “wow”.  Quite frankly if I didn’t see your birth with my own eyes, I would have thought you were switched at birth.

I mean you are the reason why I herniated the disc in my back – because until you were 10 months old, you refused to sleep more than 2-3 hours at a time.  I carried you morning, noon and night – even though all you wanted was food and mummy.   Mummy also had Linus to take care of, so it was me or the cry-way.  Tough luck for you!   You were stuck with me.

Looking back now I should have known how you would be at 6-years-old… When you were born – a planned home birth – your breathing was shallow so the mid-wives stepped out of our bedroom to call 911 (forgetting that our parents were on the main floor listening and becoming quite worried – I remember my mother calling me as the mid-wives were explaining that calling for backup just in case was a standard practice from babies with shallow breathing – asking me if everything was alright because she heard the call, whereas we did not.  But after seeing what you did when you were given oxygen by the mid-wives – you ripped the tube from your mouth over and over again, we all knew you would be just fine!  You didn’t want it.  You didn’t need it.  You didn’t have it.

Fast forward to today and you are the same size and weight as your 7-year-old brother.  You look older than you are, you act older than you are and you have an old soul who comes across as a kind, compassionate boy who asks really great questions – some not so great mind you (If Big Show fought all the birds in the world, who would win?).

You love school but get frustrated that you’re not learning fast enough – like after the 2nd day when you wanted to quit school because you were colouring with crayons and you could do that at home, you certainly didn’t need to go to school for that – and you get frustrated when your classmates talk during class or (gasp) try to talk to you when there is work to be done.  You also somehow failed to mention to us last year that you were reading at a beginning grade 2 level when you were finishing senior kindergarten.  You excel at karate and swimming.  You are a trusting friend until someone does you wrong, then you have a memory of an elephant, yet your big brother is your best friend and your worst enemy at the same time.  You two fight, then within a few minutes you’ve made up and are playing together again like nothing happened.

You have a very strong sense of justice, and as a result you always protect your brother and sister and I’ve often told the story about how, when you were 2-years-old, a 6-year-old boy took your brother’s balloon. After he had asked for it back, unsuccessfully, you stepped in and grabbed this boy by the shirt, looked him in the eyes and said “I’m going to throw you in the garbage!”  He handed you the balloon and quickly walked away.  You passed that balloon to your brother and went on playing like nothing happened.

You are a piano whiz, and you said you want to try the violin and learn your way up, trying all the string instruments, until you get to the big ones, like a cello.

When asked what you want to be when you grow up, you replied with; “Everything!” I finally got you to confirm it was because you wanted to know what you would really be good at want to do for the rest of your life.

When I blog about things you have said, like punching G-d, my hits go through the roof.  You’re very funny, and the reason we started a Twitter account for you, called @LittleBoyPurple which we don’t update any more, but you probably will one day because you’re a hoot!

So, son, I want to wish you a very happy 6th birthday.  I love you and please, keep feeding me the material, and let me know when that middle child syndrome has set in.  🙂

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Posted in family, Life, Linus

Please do not call your child a “Dumb Ass”


I accidentially called my son a “Dumb Ass” on the weekend.

Not because he opened the back door before the house alarm was disabled, not because he constantly makes his brother cry out, “NO LINUS”, and certainly not because he puts more effort into being a pain in the ass, than being a good kid… I actually don’t know why I called him that, I think it just slipped out.

To be honest – that excuse sucks – “I don’t know”. It’s an excuse I hear from him all the time.

Me: “Linus, why did you try to push your brother off the kitchen stool?”
Linus: “I don’t know”.

Me: “Linus, why did you push that girl at school?”
Linus: “I don’t know”.

Me: “Linus, why did you use a screwdriver and etch your name into your brother’s wall, then blame it on him when you know he can’t write?”
Linus: “I don’t know”.

Well, I know why I called him that and why he frustrates me so much. IT’s because he reminds me too much of me when I was that age – save for the fact that his is smarter and way cuter.

I don’t want him struggling through life being the class clown – with people laughing at him instead of with him – then getting older without having any friends and having people look at you like your a giant loser / idiot / dumb ass day in and day out. It’s hard work!

The main differences I see right away is that this boy has a LOT of confidence and we encourage him to ne his own boy, but he has got to be respectful, which I was, but he is not! That is my only must for him. He must behave and be kind. I expect it from him and we battle over this. His biggest issues to date surround respecting others personal space.

But enought about Linus…

In general, feel it IS better to be a dumb ass than a smart ass, right?!?

So who else is a dumb ass… Let me tell you who. The woman in the Tim Horton’s drive-through who parked on the other side of the path and walked over to the microphone to place her very LONG, complicated coffee / lunch order. If she really wanted to walk, and order something that crazy, she should have gone inside. It’s called a drive-through, not a drive in, park, get out, order and hold up everyone else-through… dumb ass.

Then again, when she went to pick up and pay for her food, she parked far enough to the side that she had to again get out of her car to grab her food and pay, but close enough that when she opened her door she smashed it up against the brick wall. Ouch. Dumb ass indeed.

And then there was a family a Home Depot… I was there to get a key for our house for our nanny who lost hers. While there I saw they had some beautiful raspberry and grape plants that were huge, on sale, and already flowering so I picked up 6 of them.

They are heavy.

I went to the checkout line and witnessed this exchange;

An elderly woman who appeared to have severe athritis was in line with a potted flower and 2 bags of soil.

A very tall, pretty woman walked over to her with a packet of seeds in her hand and asked the woman if she would mind, if she went ahead of her.

The elderly woman agreed.

Then once in line, this womans father rolled up with his trolly full of plants and soil and together they explained to the elderly woman that they were together.

The elderly woman was frustrated but let them go ahead, the whole time I was behind the elderly woman holding 6 heavy plants.

Man these people took forever. The cashier was in training and once they were finally checked out, this family – now 4 of them – needed help getting their stuff to their car. So after much debate (I would have said, take your fucking plants to your fucking car and get the fuck out of here – or something like that), the son went and got their car and did what I have never seen anyone do before…

He backed his SUV up over the sidewalk, in between the aisles of plants and right up to the exit of the garden centre so that neither he, nor anyone else could get out.

Then he opened the trunk and sat inside while they waited for someone to come put their stuff inside.

After a good 5 minutes, the father grabbed the stuff and tossed it inside, but then the entire family went back inside the store.

Dumbfounded, we all stood outside realizing that no one could escape the garden centre until the truck was moved and the new cashier was going to shit his pants because now the elderly woman needed help getting those bags of soil to her car.

Finally someone much more senior showed up, saw the car, freaked out that it was there, then proceeded to walky-talky the store to have it removed.

By that time, but the woman and Ihave managed to wiggle though the plants area and escaprre for light, fresh air and food and water.

That, my friends, makes this family a family of dumb-asses.

Agree?