Frenzied Daddy

Is it true that girls grow up to marry their dads? To look for, in a partner, similar qualities to what they had in their fathers?

I compare myself to my Dad In Law, Rich, and I see some similarities- we both make sacrifices to “take care of” our families, we’re both engaged with our spouses (and kids). We’re both “family guys” – our aspiration is to take care of our families, not to make a million dollars or rule the world. Of course, there are some differences. He mumbles was in the Navy, for instance.

If this is true- what qualities would the TT or the DQ see in me that she would want to have in a partner? And what qualities do I have in me that I wouldn’t want them to think are appropriate? I don’t (seriously) beat them, for instance. What about you? What do you see in your women and their fathers, and what do you see in yourself?

On reflection, I don’t think this is the first time I’ve contemplated this.

I almost deleted this photo. In the thumbnail it looks like a photo of something I’d never be able to shoot; maybe a … well I’ll let you figure out what it looks like. But it is in fact, not only a totally mundane shot but I don’t think I meant to actually shoot the camera. I was abusing the sensor light to make it easier for someone else to do something. (Yep, puposefully vague ).

Never take 40 or so vanilla wafers (generic is ok), mash them into crumbs, add half a stick of butter and some sugar and press into a pie dish, then bake at 350 for about 9 minutes.

Never, ever, slice three ripe bananas on to the top of the crust. Never, ever, dump a cup or so of fresh blueberries onto the bananas. And don’t ever slice up another cup of strawberries and put them on top of the blueberries.

Whatever you do, don’t take a package of pudding mix and mix it with a little less milk than the directions say (2.5 cups rather than 3) and pour it over the fresh fruits. Don’t put it into the fridge until it more or less solidifies, at the same time taking a tub of cool whip out of the freezer.

Don’t smear the thawed cool whip over the set pudding.

No, don’t do any of that. Make the kids do it.

(ps, don’t dunk the left over nilla wafers into the cool whip to test its thawedness. Nope.)
(pps, no I don’t really consider banana cream pie to be a serving of fruit)

And getting bigger. I’ll have to stop calling her the Tiny Tyrant (TT). “MB” (miss bossy) is a little too close to “Miss B” and “Ms B.” You folks have any suggestions?

Miss B is back from Washington. She had a great time- visited Forks (where Twilight was filmed) and hung out with a few fostered cats. She came back all relaxed, refreshed, and ready to rumble with Miss K. On one hand, they’re doing a great job playing with each other, but on the other hand, sometimes it sounds like two moutain lions in a wet sack. Normal for kids, eh?

This morning I realized why yesterday my brain wasn’t working quite right. I woke up with one of those dagger-in-me-right-eye headaches. It’s been so long since I’ve had one of those that I didn’t recognize the symptoms. So most of the day I was kind of surly and out of sorts, and couldn’t exactly place my finger on why.

This headache is different from the “omigod i need caffeine” headache. That one is more of a sick feeling and a dull pounding, roaring in my head kind of headache. The dagger in my eye one is the one where I put my hand over my right eye to feel better. It really does feel like something’s sticking in my head. This morning, I dosed up with ibuprofen, antihistamine and pseudopseudofed and went back to bed. After an hour’s sleep, I felt surprisingly better. My brain usually feels like mush after one of those headaches, which is why they’re so bad for me; the day before, it feels like it’s not working and the day after it feels exhausted and bruised.

To all of you who’ve suffered with me the last few days, I’m sorry. I’ll try to be better for at lest the next five or six minutes.

Miss K requested a chocolate cake, with white frosting and red trim. And roses; she wants roses like she sees on the Dairy Queen posters. You know, those little fondant jobbies.

This coming-home-late’s got my schedule all frickenfracked and I’m starting to freak out about her birthday cake. Of course we want it to be delicious. So I stopped at the Tulip Bakery to place her order. The doors right in the front were locked, but the ones next to them were open. I went in and ordered her cake, and it’ll be ready Saturday.

I wonder why the claim check says Tre Bone…

I didn’t sleep well this weekend. Ms B woke me up saying I was snoring more loudly than usual. Probably an allergy issue making me roll over and then my apnea kicks me in the O₂. So I was moving slowly this morning. Miss B is off to visit her aunts Linda and Adrienne in sunny Washington. Miss K was sleeping peacefully at 8. I turned on the radio to wake her and went off to take a shower. I came back and she was still asleep. I let her sleep until 8:30, guaranteeing I’d be late to work, but she still didn’t move. At this point I shouldered my responsibility and woke her up. I gave her a couple of minutes and then tried to dress her. We fought. We wrestled her pajamas off of her. Finally, when she was half naked, I held up the pants I had selected. And she threw another fit. Irritated by having to fight again, I told her she had until I counted to three to find a pair of pants. She darted into her room, and grabbed a pair of pants. Then we had another fight about going to the neighbor’s for babysitting, her crying that she missed her sister and her mother. I tried distracting her with her soccer ball but she didn’t want to take that with her. I went to find her shoes and by the time I got back, she was no longer crying, but getting Diego into his little jeep with the trailer.

I read an interesting article in Wired… ok, it’s true- I wouldn’t be telling you about a boring article I read in Wired, now would I? Anyway, it purported to be about “Google versus Facebook,” and how Google approaches the web from one direction (data) and Facebook from another (connections). But the more interesting part was a characterization of how people use “the internet” and “facebook” differently.

Most obviously, people use their real names on Facebook, and not “on the internet.” When someone suggests something to another person on Facebook, it’s one human to another – there’s less anonymousness. This makes the trust level of suggestions a lot higher there. As opposed to here, where I’m (mostly) “just a guy” and I refer to my wife as Ms B, and my kids as Miss B and Miss K (or the DQ and TT).

Part of this is the ability to ignore and block people on Facebook.

It’s a really interesting difference, and I plan to keep watching it.

It’s not often that Miss K and I get away on our own. Today, I finished some work for a client and took a break by taking Miss K to the Salmon Street fountain.

Our trip was another example of a flaw in my fathering. I have a hard time entertaining the kids without “doing something with them,” meaning “get out of the house and go somewhere.” I’m not sure where it comes from- my own dad would spend an afternoon chasing me to Australia so I could get my two armies a turn, while he got the rest of the world, until he won the risk game. Or just “hanging out.” Or whatever. It’s hard for me to interact with my kids in the house. Anyway.

She was surprised to see the fountain. I don’t think she’s ever been there. I’d have pictures but I learned too late that the camera was powerless. She didn’t have a swimsuit or even a towel. She did ask if she could “get all wet” and I said “of course” and then sat back and enjoyed her enjoyment of the fountain. She got nice and wet and very cold. Then she finally said it was time to go home. We stopped for another first; the “Dog House” on Burnside (which is now called Frank-N-Furter). She had a regular with ketchup. I had a Polish with brown mustard and sauerkraut (my favorite). She was impressed by the ‘dog.

We got home and she fell asleep in the living room. She feels a little warm; maybe she’s not feeling too well. But she had a nice afternoon, and it was good to get away.