Tag: dad

Dad Brog (#145): almost three years to the day

~ dannyhong ~ Leave a comment

I have this saying that it only snows once every five years in Georgia, but miraculously, we got snow today.  It wasn’t a huge amount, but enough to give a nice white blanket to the world around us, to where the girls could wake up, look out the window and be marveled by the sight of falling snow a bright white morning outside.

In preparation for the winter conditions, most of the state went into its typical overreaction of shutting everything down, but after the Snowpocalypse of 2013, I’m not going to complain about the state erring on the side of safety and precaution versus thinking it won’t be so bad and ending up being a national embarrassment all over again.  The government shut down, schools closed, dance class closed.  My waste management company straight up said they weren’t coming, with no makeup day planned.  Pest control company was scheduled to come, and they nope’d out, understandably.

But the best was my job, who graciously announced closure of the office on Friday in preparation for the wintery conditions.  The kicker?  Everyone works from home on Fridays anyway, so it’s basically the equivalent of allowing people to go to church on Sunday.

Regardless, with snow having arrived, it was my utmost priority to get outside and spend some time with the girls, since they basically will see snow only every five years for as long as we live in Georgia and the south.  So, channeling one of my all-time favorite Calvin & Hobbes strips, I didn’t wait to have to be coerced and swayed to play some hooky from work so I could play with my kids in the snow, I basically just checked in at 9, got myself dressed and ready for the cold, and was out the door and in the snow with the girls as soon as I could.

And let me say, how lucky we were to have gotten that real good type of snow, that’s perfect for snowballs, making snowmen and being all malleable and perfect.  Getting to build a snowman with my kids is a privilege I didn’t think about how lucky I am to get to do it, considering the lack of opportunities it’s more likely to be in coming years, and it brings me great joy just thinking about how I was able to do such.  And the fact that my house just happened to have an actual carrot and lumps of coal for traditional eyes and noses, how fortunate that all have lined up so well.

I decided to name our snowman “Jon Snow, king in the south;” the girls were not impressed, and balked immediately. 

So I said okay, we can call him Aegon. 

They didn’t like that either.

But my au pair did have a wonderful idea, which was to recreate a photograph from when #2 wasn’t even a year old, when the last time snow fell on Georgia.  And it was from this, did I realize that it’s almost been exactly three years since the last snowfall.  Otherwise, I will never say no when the opportunity to do a timelapse photo.

#2 usually isn’t a fan of smiling for cameras, but clearly the arrival of snow seemed to elicit such a genuine happy response that here we are.  Best snow day ever.

The year-end post, circa 2025

~ dannyhong ~ Leave a comment

It’s that time of the year in which I begin to look back on a year as a whole, and determine whether or not it was a “bad year” or just another year.  Not to sound too pessimistic and nihilistic than I already to and serve as just a reminder, but the idea and fantasy of “good years” seems a bit outlandish and not really within the realms of reality, at least when you look at the type of person I am and the state of the world currently.

So when I try and reflect on 2024 as a whole, I don’t have much good to say about it.  Frankly, with a few exceptions and caveats to coming unsurprisingly overarching blanket statement, 2024 was not a particularly great year.  Other than the obvious results of the presidential election and the inane bullshit that led up to it, there weren’t any epic catastrophes that I was really aware of, but the rest of the year just felt like a death by a thousand cuts kind of year, where there was just way more negative bullshit that nicked and jabbed all year long to lead to where I’m feeling beaten and exasperated with life and the state of existence now at the end of it, than had there been a lot less.

The thing is, above all else, I’ve been pondering on whether this was just a down year, or rather just symptoms of being in my 40s, where it seems like the difficulty of life jumped exponentially, from where it was in my 20s and 30s.  There’s not a day that goes by where I don’t think to myself, when did life become so difficult to where it feels like every single task in every single day begins to feel like pulling teeth?

I have this conversation occasionally with my sister and some of my similar-aged friends, but I’m curious to whether or not this is just a rough patch in all our lives collectively, or if this is something of a rite of passage for all people who hit their 40s, and things just start taking a turn for the worst more often than not.

Being in your 40s means everyone’s parents are now well into their twilight years, and in the landscapes of our lives, death’s presence grows and occupies a larger space than in our younger years.  I think about if every generation goes through this, which they most undoubtedly do, however, the generations of now and tomorrow live in a way more connected world where information is immediate and accessible, so the news, usually bad news, travels quicker, and it’s way easier now to be exposed and be aware of it all, more than it’s ever been in generations past.

Continue reading “The year-end post, circa 2025” →

Dad Brog (#144) – Watch what you say, lest the sponges absorb

~ dannyhong ~ Leave a comment

Among the numerous gifts that the girls had received over Christmas, was this little toy nail salon by Melissa & Doug™, propagating stereotypes of Asian business owners in America.  I’m not the type of dad that’s too manly and too masculine to play with whaterver my kids want to play, so I joined them at the kitchen table to demonstrate what I know about the nail salon business, not to mentioned the set does actually give a pretty detailed ordered list of what is perceived as the typical, getting nails done routine.

Naturally, I couldn’t just play with my kids without injecting a little bit of my customary humor into the scenario, so I would jokingly mention that during various parts of the getting nails done journey, this is where we (the one doing the nails) speak in a different language, not mentioning that the speaking being done, is talking shit about the customer right to their face, among their peers, because everyone knows all these Vietnamese and Korean yentas pull this shit and have been doing so since the dawn of the business model.

I nearly lost it when I switched roles with #1, and she was the one doing my nails, and how she would girl-splain to her little sister the order of tasks during getting nails done, and when she got to the part of primpting the cuticles and drying nails, she said “this is where we speak a different language now” and I actually did lose it, thinking back to the moment.

And then I sighed and had to remind myself that I really have to be careful of the things I say around my kids, because they are sponges and absorb everything they hear from their surroundings, and it really doesn’t take more than hearing something once or twice before they do so, and begin formulating how they can use it themselves.

For years, I’ve always referred to the second Christmas tree that we put in the upstairs landing of my home as “the jihad tree,” because it’s the tree where mythical wife has a jihad against any ornaments that aren’t Disney related for the bigger, fancier primary Christmas tree that resides downstairs, are allowed to be hung and displayed on, and I’ve made it my own personal tradition to deliberately amass the gaudiest and silliest and most unwanted ornaments from the discount bins from the year before to be hung on it.

Considering my kids go to school at a Jewish establishment, I figure it’s for the best that they don’t pick up on the terminology of jihads, and worse off explain it to their peers and teachers that we have a jihad tree at home, so it’s been referred to simply as “dada’s tree” instead.

Unfortunately, the worst was when my kids picked up on the slip up of profanity, and I remember hearing on the monitor during their quiet time, my oldest saying the word “fuck” and my eyes bugging out of my head at realizing what she had said.  Or when the kids picked up on “damn it” and blurted it out themselves.

There was a period of time when I, wouldn’t necessarily let it fly, but I would let it slide, banking on the then-notion that they were too young to pick up on it, or its context, but those days are long behind us.  Now it’s onto “oh poop” or other innocuous remarks, where I still don’t really want them to pick up on the context of them, but at least they’re not going to get us as parents a stern nasty eyeballing if they were to repeat them out in public.

Either way, it’s a good thing that they can’t read, much less know that dada has a brog that’s been up and running for 23+ years.  I can’t imagine the day they eventually realize and learn about it, and if they care to read about the journey of my life through my brog, realizing that their dad sure wrote a ton of shit and profanity, even if he tried his best to suppress it in speech while they were growing up.  But one of these days, that bridge will be built and eventually crossed, but I’ll deal with it when that time arrives; probably with a brog post.

I hate to admit it, but I support this

~ dannyhong ~ Leave a comment

Yahoo – orange guy vows to end daylight savings time, citing it as ‘inconvenient‘ and ‘very costly’

I don’t hide the fact that I’m not a fan of the orange guy, or really any politics for that matter, but especially since I had children, I’ve always bemoaned how much I loathe daylight savings, and would tongue-in-cheek say that I would support anyone who worked in favor of eliminating it.

All because some farmers in like 1069AD felt it was too dangerous to be out doing their shit in the pitch darkness of an early morning, the whole world had to deal with this bullshit concept.  Don’t get me wrong, farmers and agriculture are undoubtedly important to the functionality of civilization, but I feel like there have been enough studies done throughout modern times that have debunked the real need for it in the grand spectrum of things.

Clearly, those who are not in agreement of the lack of necessity of daylight savings are not parents, or apparently, rich white 1%-ers whom seem to be the ones trying to justify the elimination of it in, citing it as a hinderance to earning potential. 

I don’t get to capitalize on the bonus hour, because I have young children who don’t know what daylight savings is, and neither do their circadian rhythms are, so it usually ends up as a morning where they naturally wake up at 6:45 am because their bodies think it’s 7:45 am, with the difference is that my phone has adjusted for the hour change, and I’m getting up at the same time they are, with the difference is that breakfast is not ready, I haven’t had coffee or a bathroom break, dog hasn’t eaten or gone out, and it’s just a colossal shitshow that takes days of adjustment.

And then the spring forward, not only am I exhausted from losing an hour, the kids are tired and groggy from losing theirs, and everyone has a miserable day, capped off with the fact that there’s school and work the following day and it’s no longer the life where I can just sleep in on every single weekend day of my life like I used to prior to having children.

Screw the farmers, and parents who are afraid of their kids having to stand at bus stops in the darkness, need to work with their communities and neighborhoods to improve infrastructure, or have better thought out locations for bus stops and use their heads and common sense to get out of the way of moving vehicles.

All I’ve always said is that I don’t care if we stay in daylight savings or spring forward, I honestly don’t know the official designation between the two, I just want to outright eliminate the shifting of an hours twice a year bullshit, and never have to deal with it again. And if it makes me an asshole to stand on the side with those arrogant rich white fuckheads, so be it, because I fucking hate daylight savings and want it gone as much as they do.

Dad Brog (#143): the surprisingly emotional aftermath

~ dannyhong ~ Leave a comment

It’s not that I’ve gone around and had lengthy conversations about vasectomies leading into my own, but I still feel like there were a few things nobody talks about whenever the subject emerges.  I knew that the type of procedure I was going to have wasn’t going to be bad and in fact was probably one of the more efficient and painless ones, but I’m also someone who hasn’t ever had a surgery of any kind before in my life, so the feeling of being in a medical place for myself and laying back on a table for something done to me was completely foreign.

Not that I didn’t see this one coming, but it’s still very awkward to have people touching and handling your privates, and I found myself staring intently at the tiles on the ceiling and inadvertently holding my breath and feeling my legs go tense from time to time.  Felt like at times my junk were treated like Chinese stress balls the way they were being rolled around, and I get they’re feeling for any things out of the ordinary but was still a completely harrowing feeling all the same.

One thing that nobody that I’ve seen has talked about is the smell; and not from the standpoint that of being downstairs, the first bullet point on my pre-op instructions was to shower and shave fairly close to go-time, but the smell of things that are burned by the laser that my particular clinic was using.  I wasn’t entirely sure if it were errant hair or flesh or blood vessels, I didn’t look down at the procedure the entire time, but despite the fact that the local was doing a good job of nullifying feeling anything other than movement and the pressure of contact, it clearly doesn’t cancel out the scent of burning that emanated from the point of surgery.

However, what it all culminates in, and what serves as the impetus for this post was the surprising wave of emotions that seemed to bubble up after I was done with the procedure, which all in all wasn’t really painful as much as it was just awkward and comfortable as much as your junk being handled for 25 minutes could be.  But when I was done, walked out the door and into the car, I just felt almost like crying.  Don’t really know why, this was all part of the plan and I certainly don’t want to go through the rigors of having another baby, but all the same, this involuntary and reflexive wave of sadness just kind of washed up and I felt pretty sad.

I know I can be a headcase about things, but I feel like I’m kind of on my own here, at least as far as people I know who have also had vasectomies.  I asked a few of my friends if they felt sad afterward, and the consensus is pretty much no, so maybe it is just a me thing, but I’d wager that there are plenty of men out there who can relate, but then against we have people who lose their shit over the opening sequence of Up, and many who don’t too.

If I had to guess, it probably has to do with the sheer finality of the whole thing.  Sure, vasectomies are technically reversible, but it’s one of those things that just because they are doesn’t mean anyone wants to go through with it, and I’m at peace knowing I won’t father any more kids, but it’s just the fact that it’s a decision sealed with a laser that makes it feels a little heavy handed.  For all intents and purposes, this was done to be a permanent measure, and there’s something about said permanence that seems to trigger emotion within me.

Otherwise, what a day it’s been afterward.  Got to go to Willy’s and get some nachos, even if they were prepared horribly by some white guy that looked like Bill Burr, chilled at home while waiting to see if I would have any pain that wasn’t already there from going to the gym for the first time in a month, as my office was shut down due to malfunctioning elevators.  I took a nap for the first time in like forever, and woke up to discover that there was some pretty substantial leadership transitions going on at my company, and that another elevator malfunctioned and we might be back to another shutdown.

But the easy joke is that with me getting to rest, nap and eat rich food brought to me, is that I should have more vasectomies in the future to have these baller kinds of days, but at the same time, I don’t like feeling sad, so it’s really one of those weighing the pros and cons things, and that nothing in my life can happen without there being a correlating reaction somewhere else.

All the same, so ends my lineage as far as I’m concerned, it’ll be up to my kids and my sister’s kids in the future if there’s any hope for my family’s genetics to continue on.

Dad Brog (#142): Ending the pipeline

~ dannyhong ~ Leave a comment

I’m not really sure how this post is going to turn out, but there’s inherently a lot of thoughts swirling around my head to the point where I feel like I should write something about it, but I’m getting a vasectomy.

Despite the fact that mythical wife and I are most certainly, definitely, irrefutably done with having any kids, admittedly there’s still something there in the noggin about the sheer finality of getting the snip, and although they are supposedly reversible, the intent is clear – I am not going to have any more kids ever again.  This, was always part of the plan, and yet there’s something, perhaps it’s the fact that I’ll have to have a surgery and I’ve never had any sort of surgery in my life before, or maybe it’s just the finality of the intent and scenario of it that has me feeling a little weird.

Make no mistake though, I don’t want anymore kids.  We don’t want anymore kids, mythical wife and I.  There is a 0% chance that I’m going to chicken out and not go through with it, not to mention the fact that I’ll be out $300 if I did, and I fucking hate the idea of wasted money as much as anything else, but I’d be lying if I weren’t feeling some strange feelings of apprehension and melancholy about what I’m going to go through.

But despite all the weird feelings and emotions, I know it in my head that I’m 100% making the right call and I will have no regrets afterward.  I have my children, they’re perfect and they’re all I want, and I have no desire to father anymore kids in my life.  Despite how many times I’ve been strapped for cash in my life and despite the curiosity and the enticement of getting paid to pleasure myself, I’ve never donated sperm before; I don’t want any mystery kids borne of a random selection in a catalog to a woman I don’t know showing up in my life later on.  As far as I am concerned, my genetics are ending, and if there was ever some form or archaic desire for my family’s genes to continue on, then that’s up to my daughters to do, if they ever so choose to procreate in the future.

Plus, the world is going backwards, and somehow women pretty much have fewer reproductive rights than they did before I was born which is a whole other can of worms that tends to make me feel sad for my wife, my daughters, and all the women in the world that I have care for, so it genuinely feels like I’m doing my part of being responsible, and being an ally by going through with a vasectomy, especially since I am most definitely done with having any additional children.

The last thing my household needs to have in their lives is an oops situation, where corrective measures couldn’t be utilized without becoming a fugitive, and the only legal alternative is to have another child, that wasn’t planned for.  Absolutely not.

So yeah, I’m going under the knife (or laser or whatever), and despite the weird state of mind the whole thing has me feeling as the clock ticks closer to my appointment, I know it in my head and in my heart that it is the right thing to do, and I will have no regrets about it.  I have my perfect kids, don’t want more, and mythical wife has done enough as far as shouldering the pain in the ass burden when it comes to further responsibilities.

Can it be a HIPAA violation to be judgmental pricks?

~ dannyhong ~ Leave a comment

Like many people (should), I take my health seriously.  I exercise regularly, I’m (mostly) mindful of what I eat, I try to get a consistent amount of sleep each night, I drink lots of water, and I avoid sick people whenever I can, my own family notwithstanding.

However with kids, that last part becomes nigh impossible, especially when we get into the cold and flu season, and despite the fact that I’m not a fan of coughing and sneezing right into my face, they’re my kids, and it goes without saying a lot of times, exposure to airborne illness is unavoidable.

I woke up the other day with a tickle in my throat, and my head feeling like a bowling ball.  It stung when I swallowed, which was consistent from the night before where I began to suspect that I might be coming down with something.  During this time of the year, and especially when my kids are sick, I rinse out my sinuses multiple times a day, which is something I swear by and something I attribute my general ability to avoid getting sick to, but with as much coughing and sneezing I’ve had done in my face, even rinsing 3-4 times a day has its limitations.

My general modus operandi when it comes to the onset of sickness, is to go to urgent care and start medications as soon as I can.  Getting in front of sicknesses has worked wonders in the past, and it’s what I do in order to minimize sick time and more importantly, be up and healthy so that I can care for my kids.

It’s what I did this past weekend, and after my initial vitals were taken, where everything was normal like my blood pressure, temperature, pulse, etc, even I began to wonder if I had jumped the gun too early.  Clearly, I wasn’t the only one who was thinking this, because the NP who had seen me, I could feel the judgment coming from her that I was in pretty good shape to be coming into urgent care, and probably triggering her internal flags that I was probably some medication-seeking junkie or something.

She told me that Mucinex DM would be sufficient at dealing with what I thought was going to be the illness coming, and that over-the-counter drugs should counteract my symptoms.  But probably because I had paid my co-pay and I suspect this clinic has some arrangement with whatever manufacturer produces Prednisolone, they gave me a script for that to deal with the cough, that was just only happening occasionally to me, but #1 sounds like a nightmare, and that’s exactly what I didn’t want to happen to me.

As I was leaving my appointment, I was handed my discharge papers, and I noticed that on the front of it was stapled this little addition that I hadn’t gotten before: Antibiotics Aren’t Always the Answer, which was basically this condescending little FAQ that seemed directed to people like me who had the audacity to come to a place called urgent care, for symptoms remotely nowhere near urgent.

Here’s the thing though, if there were a place I could go to get immediate medical consult, and not have to wait 4-6 fucking weeks, I would go there.  But because there is not, I go to a place where I can get immediate consult, even if it’s called urgent care and my symptoms are not urgent.  Such is the nature of American healthcare, where we’ve been pigeonholed into such limited options.

But I interpreted this note on my papers as the NP’s way of trying to give me a gentle reminder that my issues weren’t severe and that she probably thinks I’m a person chasing prescription medication.  And honestly, I don’t really appreciate it.

She doesn’t know my circumstances.  A lot of people I know don’t understand my circumstances.

I am the primary caregiver for my kids.  I’m the one person who can’t afford to be shelved due to bullshit sicknesses because the world can’t mask up or stay home when they’re not feeling well.  Sure, there are others who can fill in when it’s necessary, but if it’s under my control to optimize my recovery time and get in front of things to stop them from escalating to an addling illness, I’m going to fucking do them.

Nobody else wakes up at 6:40 every single day of the week to make sure breakfast is made and lunches are prepared for school.  Nobody else gets up in the middle of the night when one my kids has a nightmare and needs comfort.  I’m the one who goes to the school for the kids’ activities and I’m the one who takes the kids out to the park or for Friday ice cream, or most anything that requires physical presence.

Needless to say, I wasn’t pleased with the passive aggressive insinuation that I was seeking medical attention unnecessarily.  I paid my co-pay, and I had every right to be there.  Furthermore, at the time I went, I was the only person waiting on any sort of consultation, it’s not like it was a packed clinic full of ailing people that I was cockblocking from getting critical treatment.  If they didn’t feel I needed to be there, they would be more than welcome to let me know this, refund my copay and send me off, with me eating the cost in time.

I do what I do in order to be in as tip-top condition as I can, all the time, in order to be the best dad that I can be for my kids, because the last thing I want is to be the dad that’s always sick, seldom capable, and never present.  Even if it means hitting up urgent care at the first sign of sickness, I’m not going to wait until any shit to get full blown before I pull the trigger and have to wait for medications to kick in, when I can act first and be the one doing any kicking to any ailments.  I’m going to do this every single time, and hopefully with less judgment in the future.