Dad Brog (#123): I hate daylight savings so much

Whomever came up with the idea of daylight savings is an asshole. Google says the concept was originally credited to Benjamin Franklin, but the modern concept is “credited to George Hudson, an entomologist from New Zealand, who in 1895 ‘proposed a two-hour time shift so he’d have more after-work hours of sunshine to go bug hunting in the summer,’”

My knee-jerk reaction is to say that neither of these guys probably had any children, but to avoid being too reactionary, it turns out George Hudson had a daughter, and Ben Franklin had several kids, legitimate or not, it’s irrelevant to this discussion.  But Hudson existed around in the late 1800s where his wife was probably the one who had to do all of the parenting while this dork played with bugs all day and extra-day and into the night. 

And Ben Franklin had fucking slaves, who probably did all of the parenting for him, so it’s probably a safe bet that neither of these cocksuckers had to deal with the backlash that comes with fucking with clocks and messing up the routines of young children.

Today, my kids were up at like 6:20 am, and I had no milk ready for them, no breakfast ready for them, and we had company whom I didn’t properly brief on the morning routine, so my kids were either pissed and screaming about the lack of food waiting for them, and/or running amok around the house because everything was awry as a result of daylight fucking savings.

People who try to defend it because of a single extra hour of sleep, obviously have no children, or kids that are grown past the age where they’re on strict circadian rhythms.  Parents of my circumstances don’t get an extra hour of sleep and in fact probably lose a net of like 4-5 hours over the span of the next week as toddlers’ rhythms adjust to the dumbass rule, and come March when we lose the fucking hour back, we’re all fucked all over again, but ironically thinking about it, losing the hour probably is the one time in which parents are benefitting from their kids snoozing past their routines for a little bit in most cases but that’s not the point, which is daylight savings fucking blows.

In the few minutes of reprieve that came when getting some food on plates in front of the kids, I shot a quick text to my friends’ group chat, and stated that I would vote for the orange guy in charge if he swore he would get rid of daylight savings.  Because it’s such an archaic, bullshit mandate that modern civilization is still beholden to, and I’m baffled at why that is.

So some shithead in New Zealand wanted to chase bugs for an extra hour or two every day, why the fuck does this asshole get to dictate how the rest of the entire fucking planet should be conducting time?  So some farmers have to do some work in the dark, big fucking whoop, chalk it up to seasonal changes, and adjust according to the calendar, I can adjust to my fucking potatoes or corn being at a higher price point at certain times of the year if it means I don’t have to deal with the fucking that changing clocks entails.

The point is, daylight savings is fucking stupid, and I hate it so much.  Even before kids, I wasn’t really that keen on it, because by the time we’re all talking about how it’s happening, I’m already dreading the Saturday in March when we lose it, and knowing that I’m going to wake up on a Sunday morning feeling like a small hangover, worse if I actually were in a situation where I could end up with an actual one on top.  But now that I have kids, daylight savings is a fucking nightmare, and I feel like if I’m ever in a position to where I could visit the graves of Benjamin Franklin or the NZ bug dork, I’d piss all over them just to express my disdain for their stupid concept.

Dad Brog (#122): the endlessly scary world we live in

I got an email from my kids’ preschool, stating that due to current events happening in Israel, the school would be taking measures to increase the presence of security on site.  You see, my children attend a preschool at a Jewish temple, not because we have any modicum of interest in religion, but solely based on the fact that it’s a well-rated preschool with a proven track record of taking fantastic care of children.

Sure enough, the next time I had the opportunity to drop the girls off myself, there were extra security vehicles in the parking lot, and although I knew this was coming, it still pained me to the heart to see the entire temple feel the need for increased security due to happenings halfway across the planet.

Don’t get me wrong, I know Jews have had perhaps the rawest deal in human history.  I’ve been doing a little side project which basically entails reading up on the events and happenings of every single date, and I’m not kidding when I can say that sparingly, does a day go by, where at some point in history, I don’t come across an event there weren’t a number of Jewish people who were killed, primarily just for the fact that they were Jewish.  And I’m not talking about just World War II, all throughout history, basically since the Judaism was invented, at some point in time on every single day, Jews have been persecuted and/or killed just for being Jewish.

But back to my tiny little world here, it’s absolutely mortifying to think that there would be people so radicalized, so hateful or so just plain misguided, that they’d take action against a freaking preschool, full of children ranging from ages 1-5.  A bunch of kids who are all yet still so pure and innocent and don’t even understand that horrific things are happening in Israel.  Not that anyone is deserving of being attacked with the intention to kill, especially these kids should not be targeted and I’m not just saying it because my kids are also students there.  They’re all just kids, and it takes a real sick fuck to go after them.

It’s just really, really scary to think that my kids’ school even feels the need to shore up their security, and I don’t blame them at all.  It wasn’t even a year ago where another Jewish temple not that far from where I am, had bigots demonstrating right outside their property, brandishing actual Nazi swastikas, with absolutely no fear of doing so without needing to protect their identities.  I know the Jewish community has had it bad historically, and I don’t question one bit when they feel the need to beef up.

I don’t follow the news because my plate is always so full without the feeling of needing to be up-to-date in current events, not to mention that the news is always just so god damn depressing as it is, that I don’t want to hear of such shit in my life, so I’m actually quite uneducated on the specifics on what’s happening out in Israel.  But from what bits and pieces I hear from my friends’ groups chatter, it doesn’t really seem more of anything outside the ordinary from how Jews have had it historically, which is, always a sad thing to hear.  And it’s absolutely frightening to think that it’s why my kids’ school thousands of miles and a continent away, still feels concerned about their safety.  😞

Dad Brog (#121): When we do what our parents did

#2 is sick and honestly in perspective it hasn’t been nearly as terrible as it’s been in the years past with the girls getting sick all the time.  Perhaps the world has kind of caught up to the backlog of colds, flus and other gross ailments and bugs.  Perhaps my kids’ immune systems have grown stronger from the onslaughts of colds, flus and other gross ailments and bugs over their short existences.  Maybe both.

Back to the point though, my youngest is sick right now, and it’s never easy on the soul as a parent when your kid is struggling through fever, discomfort and a body in revolt.  Nothing wants to be kept down, but she needs to stay hydrated, but consuming anything too fast results in it coming back up, so it’s a delicate game of trying to feed slow and steady so she doesn’t starve, but not too much lest it all comes back up and defeats the purpose.

Feed a cold, starve a fever, is what I always remember hearing.  I sure as heck didn’t really feel like eating when I was ailing just days prior.

Regardless, I felt it was probably best to keep any foods simple and stay away from the dairy and yogurts that my kids tend to eat when things are normal, but the options weren’t that many at my house which hasn’t yet fully reset and restocked since we returned from vacation.

That being said, given the circumstances of #2’s condition, I decided to take a page out of my mom’s book and take a stab at making jook (죽) which is basically a porridge made out of rice, or as lesser Asians know it as congee.  It was something my mom often made for me when I was a kid and suffering from keeping anything complex down, and I had memories of just how soothing it could be when you weren’t feeling well.

It also didn’t help-actually helped that I woke up at 5:30 this morning for no real reason, so I had an adequate amount of time to simmer and render down the rice and liquid before the kids woke up, and make a halfway passable 죽.  The real question mark was going to be, would my kids like it?  They’re at a finicky eating stage in life currently, but they do like it when I make fried rice, so there’s a chance that they might like rice in a different presentation, right??

Fortunately, after some morning snuggles, an explanation that the following recipe is something that halmoni (grandma) made for me when I was a kid, and I was going to make it for her, #2 actually ended up liking the 죽, much to my joyful satisfaction.  I mean, it’s basically mushy rice in a porridge consistency, and it takes to the same flavors as any ordinary rice.  So with a drop or two of soy sauce to give it some flavor, it has the same taste, but also goes down really smooth and is easy to digest, and I’m hoping that the pot of the 죽 I made can last another day or two and by then I hope she’s all better.

Unsurprisingly, #1 saw what her sister was eating and was curious, and turns out that she thought it was pretty good as well.  Great knowledge to have for when inevitably she gets sick too, that both my kids like the same stuff that I liked when I was a kid, and it does make me happy to do something like my mom did for me, for my own kids when they’re sick.

Dad Brog (#120): the 2023 Famiry Disney Trip

Typically, I imagine a lot of people look forward to taking a week off and going down to Disney World with their families.  But a lot of people also aren’t stodgy curmudgeons who is always financially paranoid and also knows just how much work two toddlers are regardless of how many adults are going to be involved in the trip, so personally it’s not so much that I was gleefully looking forward to taking a week off at the Happiest Place on Earth™ as much as I was just mentally trying to psych myself up for the sheer amount of, lift, that would entail on a trip as such.

I mean, two of the things that are basically atop of my general pet peeve list these days are crowds and being up against a clock, and Disney trips are typically nothing but dealing with gargantuan crowds and always being up against a clock since there are fast passes, lightning lanes, genie passes or whatever else that puts clocks on top of everyone’s heads.  Not to mention despite the fact that the weather is just now finally starting to cool off in Georgia, we head down to Florida, where it’s still going to be 90F+ every day, along with the daily Florida rains to contend with, and it’s like asking myself, why do we keep coming back to Florida over and over again?

Regardless, I don’t want to be a total curmudgeon that brings down those all around me, so I did my best to be optimistic that things were going to be okay, and I deliberately planned absolutely nothing at all for myself, since trips like these really are for my kids above all else.  Because if I had any real allusions that I would have any actual time for anything that I wanted to do, I would be cranky in the very likely chance that they did not occur.

Overall, it was probably for the best that I went into the trip with such gameplan, because by simply rolling with the general agenda that mythical wife had set up and just reacting to what was in front of me, I can say that I think the trip went well, I didn’t burn out too much, and most importantly, I think my kids had a really great time, and I can take some really positive and core memories out of the trip as a whole.

Sure there were a few moments where I get fried where I feel like I’m the only one watching the kids while everyone around me is constantly shopping or indulging themselves while the girls grow restless and cranky and I’m the only one seemingly caring, but frankly this is often the case regardless of if we’re in Disney or Florida or anywhere really.

It’s the moments where I’m with my kids and I see them getting enjoyment or having fun in ways that aren’t available to them back at home, that make trips like these worth it, no matter how much angst or frustration I deal with at any other point during them.  Seeing my kids’ faces light up when they meet their favorite (current) Disney princess, or they get to eat something that we normally don’t let them eat at home, these are the true core memories that emerge from a trip while any of the fleeting frustration or grumpiness about daily changing sleeping arrangements get dumped into forgotten memories by the end of the trip.

But my god, I think the pinnacle of this trip for me, was seeing just how mind-blown and enthralled both of my girls were, when they experienced the big slide at our resort.  I had no real intention of letting either of them go down it, thinking they were too young or too small to handle it.  I figured the baby slide that was like 6 feet and a gentle, straight slope would be the highlight of their trip, and they seemed to like it fine, going down it like 30 times each, with me catching them at the bottom of it every time.

Then I noticed that some kids not much bigger or older than #1 coming down the big slide, and I’m asking the lifeguard if there was any age or size restrictions on it, to which they responded that there weren’t, other than kids like mine needing life jackets for safety reasons.  I stood at the bottom of the slide watching kids come down, and sure enough it wasn’t long before not just #1, but #2 wanted to try the slide, so it was the moment of truth to see if they could handle it or not, since we had the au pair who could catch them at the bottom while I took them up top.

Surely, one or both of my kids would be traumatized, or be that kid at the water park who puts on the hand brakes and gets themselves stuck and makes a scene, right??  I let #1 down the slide first, and she did a little bit of braking for herself, but otherwise went down the slide without any other incident.  #2, I had more concern for, being smaller and fragile, but when I set her on her way, watching her go down the slide, the smile on her face, man, was totally one of those things where if I could bottle that kind of joy and enjoyment and sell it to others, I would be rich three times over.

After sliding down myself to get my kids’ opinions on the slide, they were absolutely beside themselves and practically begging to get back up the stairs and go down the slide again, and again, and again, to which the au pair and I obliged and took turns at taking them up while the other caught them at the bottom.

After the 6th or 7th trip down the slide, I’m asking myself, why bother with exorbitant admission into the parks, when they’ve clearly found the highlight of their trip from one of our resort’s amenities?

Either way, that was probably my favorite memory of this year’s Disney trip.  I know that in future years, things will continue to get easier as my kids grow, and their sleeping arrangements change and settle, and we’ll need less and less assistance, but I can still say that this year’s trip wasn’t nearly as exhaustingly clunky as the one prior.

But of course, nothing can go too smooth, and despite the fact that the travel was going fairly smooth, it naturally came crashing to a literal stop, as it wasn’t until we started getting closer to Atlanta did we start to hit catastrophic traffic not just once, but two times, once in fucking McDonough, which is basically like the Gwinnett County that’s south of the city instead of north of it, and then naturally there’s a great big old nothing-caused turd of standstill traffic traversing through the actual City of Atlanta.

And I still don’t know what it was, although I suspect it might’ve been an excess of sun exposure, but I got waylaid pretty hard at the very end of the trip, dealing with a fever and body aches on the drive back, as well as throughout the weekend concluding our trip.

Overall, I’d say the trip was still pretty good though.  Several good memories were made with my family, and fewer things snap me out of grumpy moods than seeing my girls being filled with joy.  One of these years I’ll actually get to enjoy Food & Wine again, but I wouldn’t trade fun time with my kids for anything, so no regrets with forfeiting something I’ve done countless times already for the comfort and safety of my kids.

Dad Brog (#120): Hey look it’s me

I never thought I’d ever see such an accurate representation of me in a book, but considering the fact that there’s basically no such thing of a parenting story where there aren’t thousands of other parents who can’t relate, I suppose I shouldn’t be too surprised.  Frankly, I’m rather tickled at the notion that this picture is basically me to a tee, seeing as how it’s clearly an Asian dad with two daughters that surreptitiously look to be if anything at all, a similar gap in age as my own daughters.

Not that I want all my dad brogs to be nothing but giant written bitch-fests about the plight of my life as a dad, it’s safest to assume that when there is no news, it’s probably in an adequate state to where I don’t want to jump off a cliff.  I know that that’s not necessarily the best approach to when it comes to writing about my life as dad, but when things aren’t so bleak, then my mind is usually free to write about other things, like sports, wrestling or commentary about design or the bullshit of Atlanta.

Really though, things as a parent have been pretty steady.  Then again, I’m unfortunately in the office four days a week now, which really cuts in my ability to actually spend time with my children, but as the days go, I’m still the one waking up at 7 am every morning, every single day, week day or weekend, to make sure that breakfast is ready for the girls, and I get a little bit of time with them every morning before I go to the office, and by the time I get home, I have maybe an hour to 90 minutes of time before it’s bath and bed time.

On the same token, the kids are enrolled in pre-K and dance classes, which takes a tremendous toll on my family’s finances, but boredom is the penultimate enemy of toddlers, and I do like the idea that my kids have extracurriculars to explore and participate in, as opposed to being at home where they’re more likely to get bored and cranky as a result of boredom.

#1, aside from irrational meltdowns over the silliest shit, is pretty easy going as far as three-year olds come, and I’m proud of her daily growth and her demonstrative patience she shows for her little sister, and instead of resorting to biting and shoving first, she’s shown the ability to try and verbally attempt to discourage instead of going straight to physical action.

#2, however, as the story of my life goes, has been the more challenging child, and I have to often be reminded of how different my kids are and how normal that is, and to not compare apples to apples.  But with her, we’re dealing with a seemingly deliberate rebellion to potty training, and almost daily, we’re dealing with peeing and occasional pant-shitting, because she just won’t verbalize when she needs to go to the bathroom.

Sometimes it seems deliberate, and it really could be just that, but there was a period when she first began potty training that it seemed like she was a natural, solely because she had a big sister whom she watched and emulated, but over the last few weeks, there are times in which it seems like she is peeing or pooping outside of the potty, almost in an act of defiance, or jealousy to attention being given to her sister.

Furthermore, we’re dealing with a lot of picky eating habits with #2 lately, where there are times in which she just doesn’t eat.  I know I’m dealing with a toddler here, but wasting food drives me bonkers, and it’s hard to not take it personally considering I’m basically the only one who cooks in my household, and when my kids or honestly anyone I cook for, doesn’t at least appreciate the effort I put in for them, it really is disheartening.

I’m hoping in time all of these not-quite savory behaviors will correct themselves sooner rather than later, as both are rather important, but all things considered, the overall picture of my life as a parent right now, compared to where it was like a year ago is still glowing comparatively.  It’s like we’ve long passed the threshold where my first kid was basically being repeated with a second child, and we’re in a stage of life where #1 is experiencing new things on a regular basis and we as parents can see it through their eyes as well, and #2 has marched into territory in life where she’s as old as her sister was when she came into the world, and I have a really hard time believing that my kids are 3 and 2 respectively

Dad Brog (#119): Sometimes I’d rather not know

For quite some time, I’ve usually been that type of guy that just never goes to the doctor, unless something is actively wrong.  Never did any annual checkups, physicals or anything other than eye exams or going to urgent care for what always seems like prednisone whenever I go.  I often used to say this stemmed from not wanting to miss out on work on account of the long stretch when I was freelancing and contracting, and when I wasn’t working then I wasn’t earning, but the truth is that even when I had landed full-time work with actual benefits, I still didn’t go then either, even if I were paying for it.

Then I got married, and that didn’t really change, except for the fact that I now had a wife that encouraged me to go, but I still made excuses and dragged my feet and resisted going, because I just didn’t really want to.  I felt fine, I exercised regularly, and I didn’t eat like a shithead too much, so I never felt like it was worth going since I felt fine, strong and healthy.

But then I had children, and I crossed into 40, so I finally relented and made the effort to at the very least, have an annual, just to make sure things were copacetic.  And last year, it was about what I had suspected, I was pretty much fine, with no real concerns.  I had little reason to think it was going to be any different this year, but if that were the case then I wouldn’t be writing this post now, would I?

The TL;DR is that it turns out that I’ve put on a not-insubstantial amount of weight, and my blood pressure is kind of high.  The thing is that despite the weight gain, my clothes all fit the same, save for some tightness in the chests of my shirts, but my pants all still fit, I still use the same rung on my belts, and I don’t really feel any different than I did physically a year ago, or longer.

But I don’t want to be the asshole who gets all “uuhhhhhh muscle weighs more than fat brah” and humble brag that I’ve been hitting the weights, and that my weight gain is solely based on the fact that I’ve been going to the gym with consistency over the last two years, versus the nearly two-year stretch in which I dropped a lot of muscle mass because of COVID affecting my ability to hit a gym.  Of course, I did hit my share of lazy stretches where my household eats a bunch of fast food or dines out/takes out more than we really should, but I do like to believe that some of my weight gain really is having put on some muscle mass back on over the last year.

The bigger thing though, is the blood pressure reading, that was high enough to where the tech and my doctor wanted to point it out as being high.  My knee-jerk reaction was to ask just how much correlation there is between BP and stress, to which the answer was a high one, and I feel like I already know why I’m having elevated blood pressure.

Continue reading “Dad Brog (#119): Sometimes I’d rather not know”

Dad Brog (#118): What the future might feel like

This past Friday, I dropped my kids off at school for the first time this year, since I have to be in the office on Mondays and Wednesdays.  Obviously it’s important to me to be present and active in my children’s lives at these early stages of their life, even when doing little things like taking them to school on the days in which I work from home.

Despite the fact that our au pair said that #2 didn’t cry at all on the first or second day, naturally she busts out crying when I drop her off; I’m guessing their general separation anxiety they feel with me from time to time kicked in, and I’ve got a crying child being escorted into school.

Anyway, I get home from dropping the kids off, and I step inside from the garage, and it’s suddenly eerily quiet.  I told our au pair to take the morning off and relax, because I don’t want to be a clock watcher in regards to her working time, and there was little point for her to get up early for like 15 minutes when I was going to be the one taking her to school, so she was chilling up in her room, adding to the quiet calmness in my house.

It’s like I don’t think non-parents understand just how noisy and elevated excitement the presence of children are, much less two toddlers.  Even when they’re doing something quiet and calm, there’s always this metaphorical sense of bated breath, that at any given moment, one or both of the kids can go off the rails, the thumbing of running footsteps, anything in arm’s reach is in danger again, and it’s back to high-alert for the kid watchers.

Last school year, only #1 was in school, and regardless of how chill #2 typically was, it was still the duty of parenting that made me or whomever was watching, to have to be on readiness for, needing to parent, to where it still didn’t feel like the complete sense of calm that was felt when I got home from dropping them both off.

With no kids in the house, it’s like even the house itself was taking a giant exhale of relaxation.  The dog was chill, when our au pair came downstairs, she leisurely went into the sunroom to exercise.  I brewed a cup of coffee without having to watch over my shoulder, and it’s like for the first time in a long while, I felt like I could actually relax in my own home for a little bit, and it was of course, a really pleasant feeling.

And now that I’m back in the office four days a week, I’ve noticed that pretty much nobody does absolutely any work at all on Fridays, which doesn’t bother me one bit.  I haven’t had a Friday meeting in three weeks, and although I know that won’t always be the case, it’s been really nice not feeling tethered to my machine in preparation for a meeting.  That being said, it adds to the general and fairly sudden influx of going from stressful, hands-full high workload to suddenly relaxing calm on Friday.

I think in future Fridays, I may use the lax atmosphere to try and catch up with things around and outside the house that I simply can’t get to, because I’m pretty much always on kid-duty when I’m not in the office.  I got a chainsaw and a pressure washer for Christmas, and I haven’t been able to use either, and there’s a lot of shit outside that needs to be addressed that my landscapers won’t do unless I pay them moar, so it’s on me to try and do the other touchups around my property.  I’ve also got frames to hang, shit to clean and general housekeeping that I’d like to take care of, and I might start utilizing some of these kid-free Fridays to try and tackle things like this, because fuck, I don’t know how to actually relax, and always have to be accomplishing something.

Either way, it was a very surreal feeling when I got home from dropping the kids off, and I wonder if this is a small glimpse into the future.  And of course, there’s that emo-dad part of me that’s always melancholy and seeing every moment I’m away from my kids as a threatening sense of this is what it will be like when you’re empty nesting, no matter how much there are times in which I just want to turn off being on dad mode and just be by myself, staring at a wall and doing nothing.  But at the same time, I’m looking forward to future Fridays, because of the potential there might be for me to actually get some shit done at the house without having to worry about the kids.

In conclusion, WFH Fridays with the kids in school = a good thing!