Showing posts with label old dad. Show all posts
Showing posts with label old dad. Show all posts

Thursday, July 23, 2015

Things Dad Says....Over and Over and Over




I’m as popular with my kids as Ariana Grande at a bicentennial celebration. 

Why? Because I say the word “no” one million times a week. 

“No” is programmed into a parent’s DNA. It might not be the first word children say when they begin talking, but I have to believe it is the first word they understand.

Baby begins to cry? “Shh. Shh. No, no little one.” Baby grabs something that can kill them? “No!” Baby latches on to breast with the suction strength of an industrial Hoover? “Nooo!” Baby experiences explosive ass disorder? “Oh “Nnnoooo!!!!” 
  
It doesn’t stop at “no.” I am a human “repeat” button. In fact, I wish I had a string attached to my chest that I could pull every time I needed to utter one of my frequent sayings:

“Why are you being so loud? Use your inside voice.”

“Stop hurting your brother!”

“That is NOT how we act.”

“Did you wipe?”

You say it over and over and hope it sinks in. Usually, it does not.

Tyson has a new thing. He has this puzzle-like book, with the puzzle pieces being farm animals.  He’ll pick up the piece and ask, in his broken-English, barely-above-a-whisper baby gibberish, “Where does the cow go?” He wants you to repeat it to him – “Where does the cow go?” Then he takes it to the book and puts it in its place and shows you where it goes. Then he repeats the same thing with the horse and the pig and so on, and so on.

So I have said “Where does the cow go?” “Where does the horse go?” “Where does the rooster go?” “Where does the pig go?” a million times each in the past couple of weeks.

Forget reading a book. Forget watching a movie. (Why the hell do I pay for Direct TV?) I spend too much time pretending like I don’t know the cow goes into the freaking cow slot on the puzzle!

It got me thinking about all the other things I say over and over in the quest to keep my children on the straight and narrow – or simply from killing themselves. I’m sure my “sayings” are creating more bad blood with my kids than you might find at a Taylor Swift concert, but I am going to keep doing it.

Because my goal is to keep them ALIVE. And out of jail.
 
In that order.

Here are some of my most popular hits:

Stop hurting your brother!: My daughter thinks it is funny to squeeze her brother… really hard. Or to press down on his head…really hard. Or to lay on him in a way that will certainly suffocate him in about two and a half minutes. I don’t find it as funny, and neither does he.

Use your words.: I learned this from my wife. Apparently, this is something teachers use with young kids. I had never heard it in the 35 years before I met her, but now I use it several times a day.
  
My daughter has a tremendous vocabulary and is a verbal butterfly, flitting from topic to topic with ease. Yet, at times, she thinks it is ok to communicate with the world in guttural sounds. Usually this happens when she is trying to fill quiet periods. She doesn’t like quiet. So, I spend a lot of time telling her to use her words or not say anything at all. She usually chooses to do neither.

Don’t put that in your mouth!: I spend an inordinate amount of time trying to keep my kids from choking to death. They have no qualms about putting anything into their mouth. Caps. Rocks. Coins. Whole cupcakes. My wife once ate a dog turd – mistaking it for a tootsie roll – when she was a kid, so they clearly take after her.
     
You are fine.: My kids are as graceful as a hippopotamus on ice. They fall and start crying as often as one of those Real Housewives tries to attack a co-star. What is a daddy to do? I’m not raising any wimps. “You are fine.”

It will work until a bone is broken.

That is NOT how we act!: This almost exclusively applies to Sydney. With Tyson, I just say “no.” He is not old enough to understand the whole idea behind good and bad behavior. Sydney is. But understanding and obeying are two different things. No, it is not appropriate to color in daddy’s books. Or on the walls. No, you can’t soak the dog with that water gun. No, I would rather you didn’t scream and cry and throw a kicking tantrum while we are shopping at Krogers. Or while we are walking from the car to the house and our neighbors are all out in their yards doing nice, civil family things.

Did you wipe?: Self-explanatory.

Stay away from the edge of the pool!: I know this is a first-world problem, but I swear kids have no sense of how close death is. It is always right around the corner, people! Neither of my kids can swim. That doesn’t keep them from dancing around the edge like Rumer Willis.

They also will do this with two 100-pound dogs frolicking in their direction, dogs whom I happen to know would have no issue knocking a toddler into the water if said toddler were between them and 1) any morsel of food, 2) a nice pat on the head from their owner, 3) any critter that dared enter our back yard or 4) an ominous leaf floating in the pool that is no doubt a threat to said 100-pound dogs.

Don’t interrupt when I am talking to other adults.: Sydney commands attention 24-7. If you have a friend over and feel like having a normal conversation – well, that is the best time for her to start asking a million questions. “Dad, do snakes bite?” “Dad, why does Siri talk funny when she answers our questions?” “Dad, what Palace Pet would you want to be?”

She asks even if she knows the answers. “Dad, what color is your black shirt?”

Don’t interrupt when I am on the phone.:  She desperately wants you to understand that what she has to say is the most important thing in the world. If this means singing a made-up, gibberish song at the top of her voice while you are on the phone for work, well, so be it.

Don’t be so loud!: Outside of “no,” by far the most used in our house. I’m a loud talker and so is my wife, so this should not be a surprise. Sydney speaks at the same decibel level as a 12-gauge shotgun blast. It is annoying in the house. It is worse in public: “Dad, I need a wipe!”

That’s the current list. I am sure I will have to add a few dozen to this list by the time they are teens. It won’t make me popular. But it might just get them into adulthood.

Saturday, May 18, 2013

Tyson is Tougher than the Toilet Paper

The food solution the hospital is feeding Tyson costs $1,200 a day.

Yes, you read that right.

Now, I could scream that the manufacturer is doing the typical thing every medical supplier does and is raking in outrageous profits. Or, I could loudly lament how the hospital is marking it up a ridiculous amount to get its huge profit from the insurance company.

Instead, I am only going to say four words: thank God for Anthem.

I am a notorious hater of insurance companies. Have been since I was 24 and my insurance company dropped me after three accidents in a span of a couple years. All the accidents were someone else's fault. Excuse me, but I thought that was the definition of insurance? It is there when you need it.

My hatred has only grown deeper over the years as I have seen people with cancer or other serious diseases dropped from coverage while watching insurance companies rake in HUNDREDS OF BILLIONS in profits in a SINGLE year.

But today, I am only happy to be insured. They are there when I need them. In the best-case scenario, it looks like my son's first stay in the hospital will be at least three weeks in the Cardiac Intensive Care Unit. If he ends up needing that first operation, it will be worse. Then, he has a pretty major operation about six months from now.

Can you say half a million? Let's say he spends a total of 60 days in at an average cost of $5,000 a day (the going rate?). That's $300,000 right there. Throw in a couple surgeries by one of the best pediatric health surgeons in the world and you're looking at half a mill.

Thank God for Anthem.

What if I worked at Wal-Mart? Or Papa Johns? Or one of the hundreds of thousands of businesses in this nation that doesn't agree to split the cost of group (ie cheaper, because you buy it in bulk) health care with its employees?

I'd be up poop creek without a paddle. All because I didn't have my crap together coming out of high school and skipped college (or couldn't afford it), instead choosing to go to work for one of the largest corporations in America and maybe work my way up the ladder.

Thank God for health care insurance. I'll pay my deductible -- not an easy task in itself -- and go on with my life. I can't help but feel empathy for others who may be in this situation but not have the same peace of mind.

By the way, everything in this hospital is top-notch. Every doctor and nurse so far has had tremendous knowledge and bedside manner. The equipment is state-of-the-art. The facility is modern and clean. Even the cleaning folks stop and talk to you and ask how the boy is doing. It is easy to see why this is rated the third best Children's Hospital in the nation. I LOVE Cincinnati Children's Hospital Medical Center.

But about the toilet paper.

I used to work for the county, and in an attempt to save money, administrators made a decision to go to cheaper toilet paper. It is the kind that tears as you are rolling it off the spool. It disintegrates in your hand and you have to use three times as much just to ensure a good wipe. Not sure how that saves money.

When I got a new job, one of my greatest joys was saying goodbye to that toilet tissue.

Not so fast. It has returned to haunt me at Children's. I'm spending many hours bedside in the CICU. That requires an occasional trip to the bathroom. This top-notch facility in every way is letting me down on those occasions.

I have a few friends who work here. I can only hope the administration has higher quality toilet tissue.

For those who dialed in for a Tyson update and not a speech on health insurance or toilet paper, he is holding his own. They are now feeding him and are going to take a few weeks to determine if he can live with the narrowing in his aorta, since it is not as bad as they once thought. Basically, it has to be wide enough to ensure blood is distributed equally between his body and lungs. If that happens, he can go home and they will make any necessary repairs when they do the big surgery in 6-8 months.

If his body cannot handle it, they will either go in and surgically repair the narrowing or they will place a band on another part of his heart that will apply a corresponding equal restriction, thereby equalizing blood flow.

The bottom line is the kid has fought his way to best-case scenario so far. I can't begin to explain how that feels. Doctors are very happy with his progress. 

He still has a big hill to climb. I am not getting over joyed on this -- he still will have open-heart surgery where they will literally change the anatomy of his heart with a scalpel and other material. That's scary. 

But he has proven to be strong and a fighter in every way. That gives me great hope that he shall overcome. 

Thanks for all the prayers and good thoughts. 

They are working.