Tag: angst

Dad Brog (#154): It kills me to see kids practicing shooter lockdown drills

~ dannyhong ~ Leave a comment

I remember watching this episode of Sacha Baron Cohen’s Who Is America, and getting a good chuckle out of the clowning on America’s obsession with firearms to the point where we should start arming our children as early as possible.  But mostly I always love how no matter how much people in Washington have been aware of Sacha Baron Cohen, known bureaucrats still keep falling into his traps of showing up on his shows and conducting rigged interviews, seemingly somehow oblivious to the fact that they are being made fun of for being, well, white guys.

The other night I was looking through some of the photos that #2’s pre-K posts to a private Facebook group for the parents, and there was a picture of the class huddled in a corner of the room, head down, knees up, tucked as tightly as they could.  All families know that the school does conduct routine fire, safety and lockdown drills, but this was the first time that I’ve actually seen any photo evidence of what was obviously the active shooter lockdown drill, and let me tell you how much it kills my soul to see a bunch of 4-5 year olds having to practice defending their lives.

In one hand, it’s better to be safe than sorry, and to have a modicum of idea of what to do in the event that such a scenario were to come to fruition, but in the other hand, it’s depressing and sad to think that kids have to practice this in the first place, because guns are more available than Nintendo Switch 2’s, and school shootings have now achieved a frequency in which it’s long past being not an if, but when, the next one is going to occur.

Regardless, it all amounts to all schools, of children of all ages, now having to spend a chunk of time periodically simulating what they would do in the event of a real active shooter situation, as if, if one were ever to occur, most people wouldn’t just flat out panic and fall back onto running and hiding as best to protect themselves above anyone else over some protocol.

And seeing a photo of #2’s class all huddled in a corner, as far away from the windows as they can be, set me off.  They’re a bunch of pre-K kids aged 4-5 – yes, jokes aside about how they can be obnoxious brats at times, it would take the sickest of fucks to be going after kids this young and still mostly so innocent to the world.

It just fills me with piss and bile at society that this is even a thing and being a parent it’s a hopeless feeling of having no real power beyond just hoping that your kids don’t ever become the unlucky winners any of the next school shooting sweepstakes.

Dad Brog (#153): the State of Parenting

~ dannyhong ~ Leave a comment

I realize that as the passage of time has progressed over the last five years, the frequency in which I’ve written these very dad-centric brog posts have petered off.  As much as how things change, the amount in which I write is one of those things that I don’t want to ever fall into that category, but such can’t necessarily be said about the topics in which I do write about.

However, over the last few weeks, part of my chaotic morning routine includes checking the sheets of both my kids when I wake them up, because this household is now diaper-free, and has been for the better part of the last few months now, and now we’re at the stage of life where they’re going to bed without any safety nets, and bedwetting is very much in play. 

I realize that at one point I probably was planning on making a dad post about the glory about no longer needing diapers at all, but it’s been pretty seamless into feeling relief, mostly financial, at the fact that we don’t have to participate in the escalating cost of diapers and always needing them, but going into night-training where there are periods of time in which we have more wet beds than not in the mornings, and the new aggravation and disappointment of having to do laundry just about every single day has taken its place.

But yeah, we’re trying everything we can at this point to expedite the process, like cutting off water consumption at a certain time, repeatedly taking them to the bathroom before lights out, and even trying to incentivize having as many dry nights as possible to get each kid closer to upgrading to big kids’ beds, to the point where we’ve even taken them to a store to look at beds to give them understanding of what awaits once they get their bedwetting under control.

However, like I said, there are times in which it feels like it’s never going to improve although I know it eventually will.  At the time I’m writing this, both kids are on like a four-day streak in the wrong direction, with sheets being wet every morning, and there’s a part of me that’s debating on whether or not to have the kids go back into overnights although I definitely won’t cave, I’d be lying if I didn’t think it.

Unsolicited parenting tip for those going through a similar journey: dog pads.  Stashed under the fitted sheet primarily where the child sleeps, they’re low profile and effective at preventing any overnight leakage from soaking into the mattress itself.  Costco has the biggest bang for the buck, and if you’re like me, you’re going to need them during this stretch.  Perhaps in the future there will be a dad brog championing the lack of need for these that I’ll never get to.

Otherwise, as mentioned in the dad brog prior to this one, my eldest is now in kindergarten, officially in elementary school.  #2 still has one more year of pre-K to complete before joining her sister, and my wallet will definitely be thrilled to not have to pay the cost of private pre-K, but it doesn’t change the fact that it is a truly fantastic school to send my kids to.

But as a dad to a five and four year olds, I have to admit that this is probably one of the hardest stretches of being a parent I’ve felt in a while.  Mostly on account of the fact that my kids are at an age where they’re tapping into their wills, which are extremely strong, and it results in a lot of just not listening, a lot of fighting, and a whole lot of exasperation on my end.

I admit to getting flustered and frustrated more than I want to be, but it’s like asking my kids to do anything is usually like having to ask no less than 13 times, occasionally requiring some sort of bargaining or threatening to leave without them, which results in a separate meltdown, and if I weren’t afraid of losing my hair, I’d be pulling it out on a regular basis.

Bath time, bed time, time to go, time to do anything usually results in a whole lot of defiance if not straight up not listening, and I’m finding myself exasperated pretty much any time I have to try and get my kids to do anything.  Getting them to leave a store, while holding my hands in the parking lot, while trying to steer a shopping cart – by the time I’m in the driver’s seat pulling out, I’m pissed and sweaty and not wanting to speak to my kids, and my kids are upset that I’ve probably had to raise my voice at them because they’re not listening.

And then after bedtime when the dust settles, I think about how much I love my kids and how shitty I feel about having ever gotten exasperated with them.  Their motives aren’t ever malicious or remotely detrimental, it’s usually they just want to explore, experience or spend more time with the family instead of going to bed or getting into the car, or being told what to do, regardless of it’s for safety purposes or not.

Yet when it inevitably happens the following day, and then the day after that, it’s like the cycle that keeps perpetuating itself.  I love my kids more than anything on the planet, but damn if they don’t get on my nerves sometimes, and I can’t help but feel exasperated when they just don’t listen to anything.

I know most everything when it comes to parenting happens in phases and all things that annoy will eventually come to pass eventually, but I’ll be the first to admit that this current juncture of parenting definitely has been patience-testing almost as much as how things were pre-pandemic, pre-au pair, when I was having to do double duty, an inordinate amount of time.

And then I’m sure there will come a point in my life where I’ll look back at miss these young formative years, and try to remember all the good times that came from them as opposed to all of the stuff that I let bother me, and maybe then I’ll write Dad Brog #181 then.

The eternal struggle of making the best of my time

~ dannyhong ~ Leave a comment

Earlier in the week, mythical wife sprung on me that her parents would take the girls for the holiday weekend, as she wanted to go on a road trip to visit friends out of state.  The thought of a 13+ hour road trip each way was about as appealing as doing yard work, but the difference is that the yard work would always need to be addressed so long story short, I opted to stay home, completely alone and have myself a staycation.

I don’t think it’s hard to imagine that this was not a bad thing at all in my head.

However, as is often the eternal struggle for me, is fear of letting such freedom squander and my mind is always racing at trying to make sure every meal and every hour is made to be as “worth it” as I can, before my life reverts back to stressed out anxiety dad mode, and I hope to have at least one notable accomplishment during my solitude.

At the very least I can say that I’ve had a very accomplished break, as I ran a great time for my Virtual Peachtree Road Race, getting back to a sub-60 minute 10K (57:52) and I got to do it on the Silver Comet Trail, which is pretty much my favorite place to run.

Furthermore, I did tackle the aforementioned hard work, cutting the grass in not just my front and back yards, but as well as the field adjacent to my home that I’m responsible for and was hoping my now-former landscapers would tackle for my for a flat cost but clearly didn’t like the idea and has since ghosted both me and my neighbors who used them.

Needless to say, I think I actually pushed myself physically to oblivion; I mean I made the conscious decision to do yard work after running a 10K like a fucking idiot, but I thought I could handle it as long as I stayed hydrated and took some breaks.  But by the time I was done with the lawn, my body was exhausted, I had sweat buckets, twice now, and I was at the point where just about every bodily movement was resulting in Charley horse-like cramps in places I didn’t even know could cramp, like my toes and obliques.

However, I probably accomplished more in a single morning than lots of people would have done throughout a long weekend.  That’s just how I roll, where I want to accomplish all my shit as soon as humanly possible, so that I can then loaf and do more self-gratifying things for the rest of the weekend; even if it put me in some legit bodily pain.

But then becomes the real challenge, of not squandering the time I have.  After a nap, which is a rarity in my world in itself, I wanted to make sure the meals I ate were quality and whatever television or movies I watched were good.  The clock of my staycation was ticking, and the anxiousness to make the most of it was already creeping in.

At one point I felt myself getting extra antsy because I felt I was starting to squander my solo time, and I was paralyzed by indecision on feeling like I needed to do something but what, but then I began to ask myself of what was so good about going out and eating out if there was no real motivation beyond not wanting to waste the time. At some point, forcing outings becomes the waste of time and worse off, a waste of money if I’m doing it for the sake of going out.

Places these days don’t want people loitering around anymore. America in general doesn’t want to make places where people hang out and meander anymore. I racked my brain to think of places where I could nurse a cup of coffee or take my raptop and write or something, but aside from the few Starbucks that are always slammed, nothing came to mind and I realized that going out just isn’t always worth it.

This time last year, I made a post about how if I had a gun to my head and was told to relax, I’d probably be toast, and although the same applies to the present, I think I’m doing better than last.  On top of the shit I’ve already been productive with, I’ve had some good meals, explored some restaurants and watched a lot of television; some good, others regrettable, but I’ll probably post about the latter since I have some feelings about it, and I still have the time to do so.

Maybe I’ll go to the pool. That’s something I haven’t done in eons, at least not without having to keep watch on two little humans to not drown or hurt themselves.

Duct tape is useless and overrated

~ dannyhong ~ Leave a comment

So, I fell through the ceiling of my attic and created an abomination of a mess in my bedroom walk-in closet.  The good news is that I fell in a manner where there was a truss between my legs that broke me from falling all the way into the floor below, and it was like an extreme version of a top-rope crotching spot in wrestling, and I was fortunate to have taken the impact on my inner thigh and not full on in the nuggets.

The bad news, aside from the giant fucking hole in my ceiling, is the disaster of insulation, attic dust and drywall debris that rained in, in my closet.  Again, I should feel fortunate that I fell through my closet and not one of my children’s bedrooms, so that I couldn’t have be beholden to the hours in which they are awake in order for me to address the damage.  Also, the vast majority of shit impacted by the debris was my shit and not mythical wife’s shit, because I’d feel awful if my own malady dirtied up anyone’s belongings other than my own.

All things considered, given the circumstances, I did manage to close up the hole and begin repairs in a fairly expedient and timely manner.  Initially, I was worried that I’d have to rush out to buy some new drywall and hang it in the awkward upside down manner that it had to go up, but I was able to salvage the pieces that snapped and nail them back into place, and I was fortunate to have had the materials from a previous drywall patch job to make a first pass at taping and filling cracks and for all intents and purposes, closing up the hole in the ceiling.

What I found to be frighteningly alarming was the fact that in the area in which I fell through, when I was assessing the damages, it was apparent that drywall throughout my home is held primarily in place with primarily glue.  I’m no builder, so I don’t know if that’s acceptable and is the norm, but I only counted two reinforcing nails in the large area in which I fell through.

Needless to say, I put about 15 nails, into the studs when rehanging the drywall pieces.  It probably won’t stop me from punching  through again should such fate befall me, but the goal is to ensure that this shit stays up.

This will be a multi-day project that I frankly do not need on top of my ordinarily chaotic, packed and excessively stressful life, but I’m trying to find the silver linings in that nobody was hurt, I had tools necessary to begin repairs, and the hole is closed.  I’ll be hunky-dory when it’s painted and looks somewhat passably finished.

But back to the subject of this post, this whole unfortunate tale, stems from the fact that duct tape is fucking useless, and among the many things that I’ve learned throughout my life about how much homeownership sucks, duct tape sucking, has shot up very high in the rankings, to where I genuinely question, what the fuck the point of the product is in the first place.

My house is over 30 years old, and despite the fact that the last time I had an HVAC unit installed, the fuckhead company said the attic ducts were in perfectly fine shape.  Twice now, I’ve had duct pipes disconnect, most likely due to age and previously poor installation, leading to rooms in my home getting denied air flow.  In both cases, I’ve been able to temporarily alleviate the issues by taping the ever-living fuck out of the pipes to get them to reconnect.

However, the key word in that statement is temporarily because despite the fact that I was using a whole lot of duct tape to address duct problems, the shit never lasts at all, and the pipes disconnect, and we’re back to square one of having a disconnected pipe and air conditioned air blowing out uselessly into the attic.

And this is where I’m scratching my head at the sheer ineffectiveness of duct tape as a whole.  I just don’t get it, the shit is called duct tape, designed to aid in the repairs of ducts, and the shit just doesn’t work.  I understand that my attic can get warm and heat has the ability to ruin anything on a long enough timeline, but I’d like to think a product meant to help out things that primarily live in places like attics and crawlspaces where the temperatures will fluctuate to the extremes, should be able to fucking handle it.

I thought it might’ve been a brand thing, because at one point, I probably used some private label duct tape from Harbor Freight, but there’ve been times where I’ve used Duck Tape-branded duct tape, and the result is the same.  I’ve used 3M, which tries to brand themselves as the Rolls Royce of the industry, but same thing, if not maybe lasting a little bit longer.

The funny thing is that duct tape isn’t just useless with dealing with ducts.  In all the years in which I used to make costume props and crafting in general, duct tape is about as ineffective in other logical uses, than it is at leading with actual duct work.  Lots of handsy creative types or enthusiasts of DIY, love to extol duct tape as some sort of miracle connectivity tool.  But whether it’s taping some random craft together, or like when I hit a deer last Thanksgiving and I needed to hold my bumper in place, duct tape is basically nothing more than a short-term, temporary solve, barely good enough to kept something held together until a more effective or permanent fix can be brought into the equation.

The point remains that duct tape is fucking useless for its named purpose, and equally useless in just about any other application.  I need to remember this the next time I’m at a hardware store or in a position where I need to consider options when it comes to having one thing remained attached to another.  If the shit weren’t so useless, I wouldn’t have to constantly be going up into my attic to fix disconnected vents, and the chances of me falling through the ceiling would have been greatly reduced.

Homeownership fucking sucks.

Life as The Janitor class

~ dannyhong ~ Leave a comment

Like many topics that swirl around in my head that I think about writing a post about, there are times in which I feel like I have to be in the right mood and/or headspace to optimally write about a particular one.

Considering #1 peed all over her bed because we’re still in the process of night potty training her, and #2 decided to obliterate her night-time diaper, probably because I’ve let the kids eat some fairly rich foods over the holiday weekend, which meant I had to clean everything up in the tiny window of time in which is usually spent ushering the girls downstairs for breakfast, I think I’m in the right frame of mind to write about this one finally.

A long time ago, my friends and I played this one board game; I think it was Nemesis Lockdown, because it’s the only board game that I can Google that sounds like what I’m trying to recollect.  Among the playable classes was The Janitor, and that stands out because I’d never heard of a game that took such realism into consideration to where they’d force a player(s) to take on the role of an actual custodian.

And it wasn’t a case of where it was a class in name, and that The Janitor was more a metaphor in that they CLEANED UP THE OPPOSITION or anything remotely more audibly interesting than what actual janitors do.  No, The Janitor class was an actual janitor, where their primary action is to, eliminate waste, that other players and the monster classes leave behind in their wake.  Like, the typical turn for The Janitor was, movement phase towards a tile where waste was, and action phase, the act of cleaning up said waste.  No cool special talent, no hidden bonus to where they could one-shot a baddie, their sole existence in the game was to shuffle around the board, cleaning up after everyone else.

Here’s the twist to the game – if The Janitor were ever to be eliminated, the clock in which the game comes to an end would accelerate to an insurmountable speed.  The game was set up to where there was no way for The Janitor to ever stay on top of the amount of waste that other players and enemies generate, and required tactical management and prioritization of waste disposal.  Smart, cerebral players learn and know how to manage waste disposal to where it doesn’t hinder the survival cause too much.

But if The Janitor were killed, there is no more player who can eliminate any waste, and after every player phase, more and more waste accumulates in the base, and eventually the map becomes immovable.  Either players trap themselves in a prison of waste, or they’re forced to evacuate the base to where monsters would more than likely overwhelm and kill them, but either way, the game ends much faster after the elimination of The Janitor than if they live.

That’s basically what swirls through my head on a daily basis when I spend an absurdly inordinate amount of time of my life cleaning up after other people.  I try not to think about it too much, but the reality is that so many people in my life are basically slobs.  Family, friends, my own household, it’s like everyone I know has way more shit than they know what to do with, and as a result, it’s just piles of said shit all over the place.  And it’s like I’m not only a player who has my own set of tasks and duties to do, but I’m also The Janitor on top of it all, and having to do all of the tasks and duties of The Janitor, except I still only have the number of movement and action moves of one player.

It’s often overwhelming and always frustrating, and I try on a daily basis to keep my head above water over the endlessly growing piles of waste that accumulate and clog up my board in an endless cycle.  More often than not, I don’t get to do any of the actions of my primary class, because I’m using all of my actions being The Janitor, cleaning up the endless shit that keeps materializing around me, while having to be tactical and cerebral on what has to go versus what I can push off onto a later player phase.

And if I were to ever be killed or eliminate from the game?  There’s absolutely no doubt that the same thing would happen to my home as what would happen in the game when The Janitor is removed from play.  Shit would start to accumulate and accumulate, and with nobody to give a shit about actually cleaning up and eliminating some of it on a regular basis, the home would eventually become overwhelmed, and I don’t even want to think about what would happen if that were the case.

In the past, I used to be critical of Marie Kondo and her whole spiel of get the fuck rid of everything.  I criticized her Netflix show but watched more episodes than I care to admit, and then laughed when she had kids and admitted to being just like all of us other parents who get overwhelmed and start accumulating more shit than she knew what to do with.

But as my life has progressed through the 2020’s, the more I wish my life were closer to being able to pulling a KonMari than not.  I’d probably need an entire dumpster to purge my home of all the shit that I know we don’t need, and pretty much only then, would The Janitor be able to take a backseat to whatever class I’m really meant to be, I don’t know fucking know anymore, because I’ve been The Janitor for so long now that I guess I don’t really have another player class anymore.

The peace of mind of the long way

~ dannyhong ~ Leave a comment

I hate commuting.  I often lament that among the great things that happened during the pandemic was the dramatic reduction of traffic across the board, and when I was one of the poor unfortunate souls who had to begin returning to the office, commuting wasn’t so bad because there were still a whole lot of lucky schmucks who were still allowed to work remotely and didn’t add to the cars on the road.

Nowadays, traffic is right back to the same shitshow things were before the pandemic, and unlike the days when I wasn’t married and didn’t have kids, I can’t be an early bird, and willingly head out to the office at a nice early time in order to have a more peaceful commute.  No, I have to leave at a strict time, determined by how long it should take me to get to the office, and basically into the teeth of the morning rush hour.

Honestly, I actually have it kind of good, in terms of mileage.  My commute is basically 7-8 miles each way, no highway driving, but it still takes the better part of 30 minutes to traverse it, because of fucking traffic.

Worst of all is the final mile of my drive, where there are some mornings where that last mile takes as much time as all the other distance before it, just because of the sheer overpopulated massive of human existence that clogs up the roads, right in front of my god damn building.  Frankly, this daily malady of the final mile is largely in part why I’m so salty about commuting, and why the thought of driving into the office four days a week is always met with a sneer.

My office park is made up of several buildings and has about four entry points.  However, it’s also close enough to the interstates to where the main roads just outside of the complex are often completely clogged by hordes of assholes trying to subvert the highway, preventing people who are just trying to get into the complex from being able to get in, not without waiting through numerous lights and taking some creative detouring just to get to work.

But recently, I accidentally came across an alternate route, that perhaps it’s still too early to tell, but in the few times that I’ve used it, has been a refreshing breath of fresh air, and has alleviated a tremendous amount of commuting anxiety from my daily list of grievances.

One of the access points has a two lane left turn into the grounds, but everyone camps the right lane, because there’s a fairly immediate right turn upon turning in.  Anyone who is in the left lane is obviously a supervillain akin to Thanos who will definitively try to force their way into the right and cut in front of others like the galaxy’s biggest dick.

The other day, I got in the left lane, solely because I wanted to just make the light, and the time math dictated that it would be more efficient to make my left, camp in a parking lot for a minute while the mass of humanity that wanted to make their immediate right turns made their right turns, and then leisurely hop in the back of the line.  But I also had the wherewithal to give a quick glance to Google Maps, and I saw that even if I didn’t make the immediate right everyone was preparing to bully me out from making, the road would ultimately loop and eventually connect to a road that I needed to get on anyway, so I thought, hm, let’s just see where this takes us.

It’s slightly longer, maybe adds a minute or three to my overall drive, but so far, has shown to be sparsely used, no speed bumps to further stress out my 13-year old whip, and by virtue of taking this road instead of the routes that 95% of other commuters that work in my office park take, seems to get me out of the traffic light rhythm from all the other clusterfucks of entry points, so I’ve been able to leisurely cruise into the parking garage without any slow fucks trolling in front of me or any tryhard assholes tailgating behind me.

But most importantly, it has completely removed the mentally stressful need to fight and battle to get into the office complex, which is a tremendous weight lifted off my mind.  I’m often time the guy who will take back roads and alternate routes that might be longer, but if it keeps me moving and is less stressful, they’re worth it.  I’m just very pleased to have found an alternate route on my tedious commute to the office, and I’m hoping it continues to be the refreshing change of pace that will help calm down the stress of commuting for years to come.

Dad Brog #148: an example of having to take it on the chin

~ dannyhong ~ Leave a comment

I don’t really know anything about Judaism, but for whatever reason, my kids have the entire week off because of Passover.  I don’t really know anything about Passover either, but far be it for me to question any religion’s stuff beyond the fact that my kids are off school, but some of my colleagues at work who are Jewish are all in the office like it’s any other day of the week.

The thing is we’re a week removed from a week in which both mythical wife was off on spring break on account of being a teacher, and the au pair was off on spring break on account of her being a student and going to school.  In previous years at my kids’ preschool, they’ve usually just aligned with the county school schedule, and this is the first time that I can recollect them having a separate Passover week off.  This has never been an issue in any of the previous years that my kids have been going to their school, but for whatever reason, here we are, this year.

All I know is that it really sucks because as is often times the case, I’m the one who has to take it on the chin and alter my days in order to accommodate this misalignment of time off, and further illustrate that I don’t get time off, ever, and this is just my life and I really have no other choice but to cope with it.

So, for this week, I have to stay home with my kids until my au pair gets home from class to which then I have to go into the office late, play catchup the entire days, and probably have to stay late a little bit to make up for lost time, so that I don’t fall behind on more of my shit later on.

Yeah, I know it doesn’t seem fair, but there’s little sense in calling it out because nobody listens or would be willing to do anything about it.  So it’s just grin and bear it, and make the best of my shitty situation where I don’t ever get a fucking break, and try to take solace in the fact that I can spend a little bit of extra time with my kids and try to push out of my mind the meetings I may be missing and the optics that goes along with flaky attendance, even if I do manage to get all my shit done.

As I’ve opined a thousand times, I would just like a little bit of help and a little bit of breaks from having to be the hard fucking hyper carry in my household.