Show Your Face

I hate getting Christmas cards with pictures of just the kids.

I want to see the aging process in all it's glory. Added wrinkles, shiny heads, protruding tummies.

Give me the chance to comment and criticize, or every once in a while exclaim "damn they look good". (rare these days)

Parents show your face.

By the way, here is our card this year.

Not Until

We each have our own "things" that help usher in the Christmas Season. I have three, and without them it just isn't Christmas.

Cinnamon Rolls: Mindy made the first batch last night and as the smell wafted upstairs we all took in deep breaths and exclaimed. Classic to see a 1 year old copy this behavior.

Real Christmas Trees: Mindy has been asking for a fake tree for 14 years but so far I have won this battle. The smell, the sap, the needles everywhere - it's all part of it. I especially like that I only have to unload the tree and then watch football while Mindy strings hundreds of lights.

Watching Scrooge: I could almost give up everything else if I just get to watch my movie. The 1970 musical version with Albert Finney. Every year I envision the perfect setting for watching this movie. The fire going, a cup of hot Pero in hand, the family quietly lounging around. My ideal setting hasn't happened in a while, but every year I look forward to it hoping it will be the perfect experience. This year I am watching it Sunday afternoon.
Heaven help any Kid, Wife or Hometeacher who interrupts my movie and screws with me getting into the Christmas Spirit.

The Other Man

When I was a senior in High School I visited BYU while on a trip with my cousin who is my same age.

During the visit my cousin and I were wandering around the Freshman dorms when we were approached by two beautiful college girls who asked us for some help. These girls had the hood of their car up and were attempting to change the oil, but didn't know how. A potential "moment" for some high school kids. Changing the oil was the first step to a glorious night.

We sauntered over to the car and I took the lead and began looking around under the hood for something, anything that said oil. It couldn't be that hard I thought, although I had never in my life even looked under the hood of a car.

A few minutes later I walked away from those beautiful college girls thoroughly humiliated. I couldn't find the oil, not even the dip stick. Clueless, helpless.

This was the first of many embarassing and hapless attempts at being Handy. Blowing the circuity of an entire apartment complex, hitting myself in the head with a hammer. I could go on.

Which brings me to Bill. I often come home in the evening or on the weekend to find a man in my house doing odd jobs. Bill. Putting up child proof locks, replacing the garbage disposal, fixing the faucet. Many times I'm not even aware something was broken or needed to be done. Mindy doesn't even bother telling me anymore. She just calls Bill.

So I just nonchalantly say hi to Bill, grateful for the extra time I have to Blog.

Day Four - The Big Aha

With Mindy coming home tomorrow I thought I would reflect on what I had learned.

My Epiphany turns out to be something I had known once before but had forgotten. It takes being alone with the younger kids for several days. It's a powerful lesson because it makes me appreciate my wife more than ever. I am in awe at her sacrifice and selflessness and her time management.

So...My insight, my takeaway, the revelation: You just can't grab reading material and disappear for 1/2 an hour when you are alone with the kids.

Day Three - The Response

I had one of those days where everything went wrong, mostly regarding Christmas related activities. As each catastrophe stuck I thought well here is my blog topic for the day.

But in order to fix the many issues of the day I was out and about with the boys and of course ran into a few people I knew. They would ask where Mindy was and I would tell them. It was then that I got the response. And it was the same response whether a woman or a man: "I bet you can't wait until she gets home".

The first couple of times I got the response I chuckled of course and gave them a hearty "yeah it's rough...". But after three or four times.....

Does every Dad dread being stuck with their kids that bad? Or do we all just say that, you know, because that's what you say to a guy stuck with kids.

I am much nicer to my kids when I am alone with them, when they have no Ying to my Yang. It may also be because I notice what happened in their day. I could tell you everything Garrett did today, everything he said, what he ate and every time he went to the bathroom. There's not many days I can do that. It gives you better context for the tantrums and difficult moments.

So for a couple more days I will enjoy the simple things, like being there for every bowel movement.

Oh, I went to the Ward Christmas party tonight but I had to rush out into the hall during the nativity scene. Ryan was screaming at me "Mom, Mom, Mom!!".

Day Two - Stop Calling Me Mom

For weeks Ryan has been continuously yelling "Mom". Anytime he wants something eat, or has something to show her or just if Mindy wasn't looking at him he yelled "Mom" .

And I am honestly using the word yell, not just trying to be slightly dramatic. At all of 19 months he can belt out a raspy, guttural yell. Not a squeaky high-pitched scream. It really is like a little man yelling at you.

Mindy has been quite tramatized by this continual verbal assualt. But I have found it quite comical to arrive home from a quiet day at work and find a frazzled wife being chased around the house by a yelling toddler. And the only way to quiet him is to try and figure out what he wants and give it to him. For the few brief hours I was around it each day I chuckled.

Well today I stayed home from work to watch the boys. All day long I was yelled at. At first I laughed. Then I decided to try and "change" the behavior by ignoring him.

Now I just want to yell "Damn it stop calling me Mom"!

Day One - Survival

A good test of any man is when his wife leaves town. Will he wallow in squalor, eat like a college student and numb his senses with endless hours of TV?

What if the wife leaves a few kids behind?

Mindy left for New York on Wednesday taking Paige and Kate with her. They have big plans: Mary Poppins, Radio City Music Hall Christmas Spectacular, Ice Skating, American Doll Christmas show, The Empire State Building and the Statue of Liberty. This is kinda an annual trek for her to New York.

So I get to hold down the fort with the boys, age 3 and 1.

One hour before Mindy boarded the plane Wednesday evening the 1 year old breaks out in a fever. A little Advil for him and off she goes, I am sure with a little smirk. Now Eldon gets a real test, not just TV and pizza with the boys.

Sure to form Ryan was up several times last night with a fever. He kicked and tossed with me from 3am to 4am. Then the drugs kicked in.

I took him to the doc this morning and of course nothing seemed to be the matter. So the babysitter came over and off to work.

Just four more days to go. I'm thinking Taco Bell and The Office tonight.

Sweet Bowling Skills

During our family reunion this Thanksgiving we had a bowling expedition. The event was rather typical until my Nephew started trash talking about his skills as a bowler.

Now I had just bowled a 105 game, which is about on par for me. (105 is really bad) But I couldn't not respond to the trash talk. You see this little nephew owns his own bowling ball, so I threw down a challenge. Anybody who owns their own ball must be humiliated.

It was me, trash talker and his brother. The comments are flying as this nephew starts the game with a strike. But I channeled some King Pin vibe, a vision of who I could have been if I had been a child of the 70s or 60s or some era long ago when people bowled.

I started popping off strikes, and the nephew started missing. Final score: Eldon: 175, Trash talker: 114, Nephew 2: 112

By this time we have a little crowd starting to gather. Trash Talker starts taunting me for another game. No way I could ever bowl another game like that, it was just pure luck. Even though I knew he was right it was game on!!

What ensued was not bowling, but trash talking with a couple of pins falling here and there. As we get to the last frames it's a tight game, with both of us just hoping to break 100. The bowling league players a few lanes down couldn't understand all the cheering and excitement about such a pitiful display.

So the game comes down to one last bowl. My last bowl. The crowd has gathered, the banter is at full pitch. I have one single pin standing in the middle of the lane. If I knock it down, I win. Miss it and I lose.


Now look at Trash Talking nephew, the one in the middle. You tell me who knocked over that pin.

YES!!

Validation. I'm bad, uh huh

Just wish I hadn't dropped the winning pass in the Turkey Bowl the day before.