Frenzied Daddy

Another one of those mornings where I have to balance between dad-the-teddy-bear who likes to play with his kids and dad-the-grizzly-bear who needs to get to work. It’s frustrating sometimes that while I want to play with the TT and she wants to play with me (this is her last full week before she starts Kindergarten next friday), I do have other obligations and responsibilities that she just doesn’t cotton to. Like going to work.

Anyway; I’m here now and workin like the dickens. Hope she has a nice time at the neighbor’s.

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 ).

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?

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.

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.

too quiet, if you ask me. Which you didn’t.

The girls are gone to Grandma and Grandpa’s house, leaving myself and Ms B alone. Days on end without hearing “DAAAAAADDDY” or even “what’s for dinner” or *gasp* “I’m hungry.” What’s a guy to do?

Well, I don’t mind telling you. I’m playing on the xbox, I’m surfing the internets, and I’m enjoying the peace and quiet. But on the other hand, it’s hard to think of what I’m “supposed to do next.” I guess I’d better learn to figure it out because college for Miss B is coming, and someday the girls will move out of the house. And my empty nest will be this quiet all the time.

Well – I’m off to read a book, and build some more websites. There’s always room for more websites. Talk atcha soon!

It’s unusual; for the first time in 2 or 3 years I’m having to “go to work” and it’s more than just going downstairs to my cave. No kids, no cats, the dogs aren’t barking. A guy could get used to this.

I’m parking the car downtown. It’s expensive (a monthly pass will be $100), but it’s slightly more than a bus pass. And the $25 I’m spending on parking (above and beyond the bus pass) is well-worth my time I’d spend on the bus. Imagine an extra two hours of travel per day. On the plus side, the parking garage is about 15 minutes from home. I head across the St John’s Bridge, down Highway 30, across the bump at the turn off to the dump, and head down Naito (Front) to get to the mounted police stables. I turn right there and head across the train tracks, parking in the smart park. It’s quick and painless.

The smart park is kind of small though. I almost put a dent in the Explorer yesterday, as I backed out of a spot watching the car next to me (on the inside of the turn) to make sure I was missing it, I got past it and stopped, only to see that I was a thin centimeter from the pillar on the other side. Whoops! I’m learning to park in places where it’ll be easy to pull out of; so I’m on the third floor usually.

It’s about a fifteen minute walk to work from there. I thought it was half a mile, but Google Maps says it’s closer to a quarter. If I swing up and around Jamison Square, it’s a half mile. As I get better at this, I’m trying to walk it faster and faster. Jogging, carrying my lunch sack and cuppa joe, is messy.

The girls are adapting … somewhat. Miss K doesn’t want to go to the sitter every day. I can understand that, and for the past year she’s been home with me. But we all have to make sacrifices. Miss B is also unenthusiastic about the sitter, but I can’t leave her alone that long in the house. Soon we’ll find stuff for them to do.