Archive for November, 2013


Alpha Tween is Kind of a Dumbass

Alpha Tween isn’t really a dumbass. He’s not even a clutz.

He just keeps breaking things.

Well OK, this time it ended up being a sprained wrist, but still there we were in the ER again.

The ER physicians assistant we saw (do you ever see a doctor in the ER anymore?) was very unclear—even when I pressed a bit. It seems like because they aren’t doctors, they don’t want to be definitive.

She made it sound as if he either re-broke the same part of the hand or the break wasn’t fully healed which would be incredibly frustrating because it’s not like the orthopedist we saw last time didn’t examine him when his cast was going to come off.

We finally made it to the orthopedist and LOW AND BEHOLD the wrist is strained not broken and it turns out that non-pedes doctors and nurses have issues reading x-rays for kids which is why you always have to go elsewhere for a second look. So she saw the old break, healed, and thought it was broken again.

I think because, again, she was incredibly unclear.

So that’s why they were dumbasses.

Here’s why he is a dumbass and why having kids can be incredibly frustrating and more expensive than it should be.

In injury took place in dance class—yes, he broke something in dance clas. The kids were doing some sort of choreography which involved a—I guess the best way to describe it is a “ring-around-the-rosy” type thing where the kids spun in a big circle.

Alpha was in his high-top sneakers (he loves them way more than I have ever loved a sneaker) and was having problem doing the moves.

It makes sense—basketball shoes are for gripping and there is a certain amount of sliding and flexibility dance requires which you can’t pull off in grippy shoes.

His solution? Take the shoes off.

Unfortunately for all of us, he kept on his socks. On the tile floor.

If this sounds like a recipe for disaster, I assure you it was.

Suffice to say, the kid lost his grip on his partners, slipped completely and fell. He told me there was a moment where he remembered you’re supposed to fall on your butt, however he wasn’t in a position to twist that way.

He also said someone once told him you should fall on your shoulder—I don’t know about you but that seems like a great way to crack a collarbone.

Anyway, he put his hand down to break his fall and it immediately felt a sharp pain. Long story short, he ended up in the nurses’ office as the pain grew over the course of the day.

We were lucky it wasn’t broken because that would have cost more money, more than likely.

This is now two severe injuries this fall, three in just over 365 days. All on the right side of the body which is odd, save for the fact that the right side is his dominant side.

Here’s the kicker: only one of these injuries was due to sports, or more specifically, football. Two of them were school related in classes involving body movement like dance.

So I think forget concussion issues in youth football—ban dance in schools!

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HAPPY BIRTHDAY ALPHA TWEEN (now please go rake the leaves)

Happy Birthday Stinker!

Happy Birthday Stinker!

Twelve years ago today, my wife woke me up from a sound sleep to let me know she was having contractions.

I told her that, if she didn’t mind, I was going to sleep just a little longer.

That she didn’t kill me is a miracle—that she actually agreed to the request for a few minutes is a testament to how labor can throw a woman off.

In my defense, it was going to be a long day so extra sleep was going to be vital!

Alpha Tween is 12 today.

There has been no job so insane, so challenging, so harried—and so wonderful—as the job of raising my sons have been.

I love this kid, both for the child he still is, as well as the man he’s becoming.

And he is becoming a man. Slowly but surely, he’s shaping into the individual he’ll be as a grown up. You can still see the boy—the goofy, still-playing-Pokemon kid who can be entranced by Disney animated films as easily as Shaun of the Dead or The Lord of the Rings trilogy.

I couldn’t have predicted any of this. I might have hoped, but never could I have predicted what he was going to be. He wants to write, he loves playing football, loves sports but is cerebral.  The kid who started growing his hair long “to show us he could play football with long hair” and the young man who decided—on his own—to grow it long enough to donate.

I don’t know what’s coming next.Every day he does something new we didn’t see coming.

But what I do know—what I can never wrap my head around—is how much I love him. What’s the saying?

“I love you more today than I did yesterday, but not half as much as I will tomorrow?”

Every day I love this child more and I know “every day” means “for the rest of our lives.”

I never thought my heart could be more full than it was the day I married my wife. Yet the day I held my son in my arms for the first time, saw his face and little toes and hands, the day he peed on me (that deserves it’s own entry later on today or this weekend)—that was the day when I learned my heart can be filled beyond anything I’d ever imagined.

I’m sure I’ll learn it again tomorrow.

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It’s a Dad Knock Life

Every Sunday I retreat to my office to watch football.

For my job. Really, I swear. It’s a hardship.

This weekend, after she had come into the office to talk several times, my wife told me she was closing the door to stop herself (and more importantly, the kids) from interrupting me from my vital work.

(Seriously, it is work.)

That really didn’t stop the interruptions, though it limited them.

After interruption 1,746, there came a knock on the office door.

Me: *sigh* Yes?

The door opens and The Professor’s head pokes in.

Me: What do you need, bub?

Professor: Well…….why do you have the door closed?

Me: Mom closed it so I wouldn’t be interrupted while I work.

Professor: Oh. Is that something that happens?

I stared at him, figuring he was making a joke. He was not.

I love my son. Sometimes I might want to strangle him, but I love my son.

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What I’m Into:

Reading: Dead Beat by Jim Butcher Listening to: The Heist, Macklemore Watching: Damages