Even Jesus Had His Haters

By following back a traffic source, I came across this gem of a site. It seems users post the most awful link of the day, and someone came across my little piece of the net and nominated me. It was three years ago, so I guess I did not win, as I failed to receive my notification in the mail or cash prize. Here is how my nominator described this site:

http://www.myleftwinggirlfriend.blogspot.com/

I went looking for the left-wing analogue of http://myrightwingdad.blogspot.com/. I did not find that. (I suppose it may have been that at one time.) There is nothing here about politics, just one stay-at-home dad's self-pity and little-varnished desire to kill his disabled daughter.

Ouch.

A Month of No Nagging

An interesting article about nagging and trying to stop.

I think this relates to the Wife and I, but our issues are not nagging. A lesson in here for all married couples?

Two Months to the Baby

The Wife completes 7 months today. Two more months to go.

So far, everything has been good. I was a bit concerned, considering what happened last time (not that making it this far guarentees no problems). Anthing after 36 weeks is no problem, but thirty-two weeks is the big cut off. You can pretty much deliver anytime after 32 weeks with few problems. In truth, after 28 weeks the survival rate is still very good, although the baby may have to spend some time in hospital. Anyway, getting to 32 weeks with no problems usually means the baby will be healthy.


We still do not know the sex of the baby. I wanted to know, but she did not. I was bound to give it away, so it was just best not to know. Basic spy stuff: You can't give away what you don't know.


April 15th is the due date, and we are unlikely to go over it. With the Wife 40 years old and because she had a C-Sec last time, their can be risks. If you deliver naturally after a C-Sec, there is a 1% chance you can pop your scar. If that happens, it is unlikely they could get in there and close it up before you bleed out. We have not decided what we are going to do yet, but we will probably play it by ear. She may try to have it normally, but at the first sign of trouble, the knives will come out.

"Then You Cook the Fish!"

Sometimes, the Wife can be very frustrating.

I enjoy cooking, but it has to be my own meal idea. 

The Wife does not like seafood. She hates it. The only seafood she will eat is fish, and she is not a fan of that. I love seafood,  (I almost considered dumping the Wife when we first started dating because I would never be able to take her for sushi) except for fish which I can take or leave.

The Wife often comes up with meal ideas, usually good ones. Unfortunately, she tries to get me to cook her ideas. I usually don't listen. I need to be inspired and to make an idea my own for me to enjoy cooking it. 

So, when she comes up with a good meal idea, I usually tell her to do it herself, when it is her turn to cook.

The other day the Wife decided to make a fish dish. Neither of us are fans of fish, but it is good for you and is part of my diet, so I was game.

As an aside, the Wife has been very supportive of my diet, buying food and coming up with ideas to relieve my food monotony. It has been a great help.

As any man, I pride myself on being able to cook meat perfectly. The Wife acknowledges my superiority in this task, and she did so again, by asking me to cook the fish for her.

I am a firm believer in the old saying "Too many cooks, spoil the broth". If I am cooking, it is my meal and anyone else in the kitchen is working for me. The Wife seems to think the same way, as evidenced by her yelling at me when I occasionally open the oven door to see what smells so good on her night to cook.

I was reluctant to cook the fish, because when I cook I like to be in charge. However, she asked me and I caved, thinking I would just do the fish and be done.

The Wife is paranoid about under cooking things. She likes all her meat very well done. You cannot understand the pain I go through each summer as a barbecue a lovely piece of meat to perfection, nice and juicy, only to have her bring it back to me with a look of utter distaste, as if I had served her vomit, and ask me to burn all the flavour out of it. I keep cooking everything properly, hoping one day she will realize her error, and stop insisting everything be burned to a crisp. 

So with some trepidation, I agree to do the fish. I fry it up to perfection, cooked all the way through, somewhat proud at having cooked it perfectly, as I do not have much experience with fish. The wife says "Could you put it back in for a bit, it needs to be white all the way through and fake easily with a fork." I reply that it is perfectly cooked, white all the way through and I demonstrate how I can easily flake it with a fork. Now, I don't mind if you want something more cooked that it is (well, actually, I do mind considering it is cooked perfectly), but don't claim it does not meet your criteria when it clearly does.

Of course, this precipitates an argument where I make such statements as "If you want it burnt, just say so", "Don't tell me it is not done when it clearly is", "Why did you ask me to do it, then?" and the title of this post.

Big Announcement at the MLWGF House

The Wife is Pregnant.


We are just over 4 months into it. The baby is due in April 2012.


We have the next ultrasound at the end of the month. So far they have found only one, but last time at this time they thought it was one. No reason to expect more than one, but the Wife has been joking about it. 


I can't imagine what I would do if it was twins again.

Big Announcement Coming

I have not been posting to this blog much in the last few weeks. I have been writing on my other blog. I am going to start paying more attention to this blog and you will see a lot more posts in the next little bit.


But first, I am going to make a big announcement on Saturday, 19 November. It's not a cure for cancer or some big invention that will change the world. It is of a personal nature.


Feel free to guess in the coments.

The Household is Down

A bad last 2 days at the MLWGF household. 


The Wife is sick, some sort of stomach bug (throwing up). K was sick this morning, and I don't feel 100% (but I am still able to function). And J is still in the hospital (but doing well). 


I have not been able to visit, as I am taking care of the ones at home. I guess it is lucky that she is still in the hospital, as she might catch what we have.

Is She Trying to Piss Me Off?

This happens a lot and happened today while we were at the hospital. 

We are sitting down eating our lunch after visiting J in the hospital. I am enjoying my pizza and relaxing. K is eating her lunch. She is eating yogurt with large chunks of fruit in it and using a spoon. The fruit is big and she is having trouble getting it on the spoon and getting it into her mouth. Has she complained about it? No? Is she asking for help with it? No. But the Wife thinks she needs help so she goes and gets a fork to use and then tries to get the kid to use the fork.

I am not big on helping kids. I subscribe to the theory of supervised neglect. If a kid leaves the house without a coat and it is cold outside, nature will smarten them up. Eventually the kid will think to wear his/her coat without you having to tell them. Who wants a 17 year old son who still needs his mother to tell him to wear a coat? K is five, so you have to be a bit more careful, but the principle applies. I try to get her to think about what she needs, not tell her and then get it for her. For example, if it was me who noticed that she needed a fork, I would ask her, “Are you having trouble eating your fruit? Do you need a fork?” If she said yes, I would tell her that the forks were over there and she should go and get one.

Not the wife. With her its all “You need a fork, I will go get you one.” It bugs me, but hey, if she wants to spend all dinner getting up every 40 seconds to solve invented problems that is her business.

But then she tries to get me involved. Not one minute after she get the fork, K knocks it off the table and on to the floor. It is dirty and cannot be used. The wife asks me “Honey, will you get K a new fork?” Here I am, tired, just sitting down and enjoying my lunch, about to take a big bite out of my nice cheese pizza, and now I have to get up? I don't mind if she tries to help K, mother her, assuage her feelings of guilt for not staying home by smothering her and doing everything for her as if she was an invalid, but don't bring me into it.

This happens all the time and I am surprised how much it pisses me off. If I had a nickel for every time the wife asked be to get something for one of the kids within 15 seconds of me sitting down on the couch. She thinks its fair to force me to get something because she just got up to get something, when the kid could have got both of those things for herself, or didn't care about it anyway.

She never did use that fork.

Surprise Brithday for the Wife

This month the wife turned 40.

I decided to throw a surprise party for her. Actually, I have been planning it for over a year and was going to do it last year.

The wife is very suspicious. Any change in routine sets off her spider sense. Once that is going, she starts paying attention to other things and builds up to figuring what you are up to. As an example, if she is on the couch watching TV I might ask her if she wants something to drink. Her reply will most often be, "Yes, but you are not getting any tonight." I, of course, reply with righteous indignation. However, she would be correct as to my motives.

Suffice it to say, for a variety of reasons, she is very attuned to any changes in behaviour or activity. You can see that presented real challenges to pulling off a surprise party.

I thought about doing the surprise for her 39th, but that seemed sort of lame. So I started the planning last year. The party itself was very easy, BBQ in the backyard and invite all her friends. The hard part was keeping it secret.

To pull off the surprise I used a combination of secrecy and misdirection.

The first part was to say nothing to K. I forbid those who were helping me from saying the P word (party) in her presence. We had a family only party before the surprise party, and K gave away some of that. The wife even asked K some questions, trying to get information out of her. Luckily, K did not know anything and 4 year-olds have a problem with linear time. The wife told me later that when she hit up K for info, she said something about a party, but started giving her info about the family party, as if it was still to happen.

To help keep the surprise, all communication was done by email. I forbid anyone from calling me on the phone. Our phone saves all received calls, so I started deleting those on a regular basis, a few months prior, to build up a pattern. During the day as I surf the web, I usually keep my browser open and she often uses my login to surf when she comes home. I was sure I would forget and she would see my hotmail open with "Re: Surprise 40th birthday party" on an email header. I had to password protect my login. I thought this might be enough to set her on the trail, but I had a few things going for me. I had kept a password on my login before, and, just before I was going to put up the password, K got onto the laptop and closed all my tabs on a bunch of stuff I was reading. I made a big deal about this and then put on the password.

The misdirection was the most important part of the plan. She put on a surprise for my 40th, so no matter what, she was going to expect me to do the same. My plan was twofold. Have a family, low key party and rely on my reputation as a lazy, insensitive husband.

Her actual birthday was a week before the surprise. She had asked me to go to a dance with her the night before. She is always appreciative when I attend these functions, so that, plus a spa day I gave her (the thing to get her out of the house on the day) should be enough as a present. I got a friend of hers to go with her (to keep her under control), but even that raised suspicion. I had to coordinate with her to ensure we had our story straight, as the wife was sure to ask her. The story was I happened to bump into this friend and had mentioned to her that I had got the wife a spa day. The friend had then said that she had been wanting to go to a spa and would go with her. Again, as luck would have it, I actually bumped into her friend before this was to happen (although the story was already coordinated by email). One cannot just mention this to the wife. If you just start to tell her stuff, she will get suspicious as to why you are giving out this information. Luckily, I had K with me. One of my routines is to have K tell mommy what we did today. This was a great opportunity to get the information out that we had seen this friend and set up the plausible reason as to why she was going with the wife.

A funny bit to this saga, the friend who was to take her to the spa invited her for one of these Tupperware type parties (but it is not Tupperware, its something else that I cannot remember). The wife thought that this might be the surprise. She must have been so disappointed going into the party.

In conclusion, the surprise was a success. I think the wife is a bit upset that she was not able to figure it out. She prides herself on detecting these things. When I asked her if she was surprised, she played it down a bit, but I know I got her. She just doesn't want to admit it.

Future surprise notes: One may not wish to use a spa day where they get a deep tissue massage, to keep the surprisee away from the party. They tend to look tired and underwhelmed. Not the best way to act when you have 20+ people at your house.

Irony thy name is The Laugh Shop

The wife had her birthday on Friday, so I took her out for Indian food and to a local comedy club called The Laugh Shop.

Now, I have been to comedy clubs before. I wanted a seat not too far in the back so we could see, but not too close to the front, so as not to be in the firing line. Guess where they put us? The club is very small, so our table was to one side, practically on the stage. The light was shining in my eyes and it felt like we were on stage with the guy. There was another table beside us, in the same situation, however, those people did not show up. On the other side of the stage there was a large party so their tables were pushed together, out of the light. Even the front row, directly in front, was less obvious than us, as they were out of the light and much lower than the stage. Ironic.

I was the biggest target all night. To be fair, I offered us up when I volunteered that the wife was having a birthday. Of course, the guy focused on me instead.

His name was Mike and was from New York, and served as the opening act for the headliner. I actually thought he was funnier than the other guy.

After picking on some poor blue collar, already half in the bag already guy Trevor, he focused on me. His main thing was suggesting that I was "retarded", that I thought my family were pickles, and I was going to my house on the moon after the show. He called me "Pickle" all night and did the stereotypical mannerisms of a "retarded" person. The crowd thought it was funny. I, less so, seeing as I was the butt of the jokes.

As our daughter is severely mentally handicapped, the wife was not too impressed and was going to write about our situation on the back of the comment card. I stopped her. Some of you may know of a case brought up to a Human Rights Commission in B.C. where this comic made fun of some lesbians. Comedy can be hit and miss, but I would rather the guy be free to say what he wants. Writing on the comment card would do nothing, except perhaps for the owner to refuse some acts because they might offend. Being offended is a chance you take and I would rather take that chance than have censorship.

I did not get a chance to bring up the situation of our daughter. Too bad, I thought that would be really funny, in a put-the-comic-in-his-place sort of way.

The sad thing is, I wish and I pray that my daughter was only as mentally handicapped as the stereotype that Mike portrayed. Imagine if J could walk, talk, take interest in things and smile.

That is irony.

How you know there is nothing they can do for your child..

...when they start to focus on you.

Yesterday we took Jocelyn for her appointment with a specialist who focuses on the problems with her spine and hip. We got pretty much what we expected, but some, sort of good news. Although her spine is curving and will likely eventually bend her so it starts to compress her organs on that side, there is a small chance it may not progress any further. Also, it will take many years, (probably 4) before it gets that bad, so we have time. The same thing for her hip. Although it appears to be starting to dislocate, there is a chance it will progress no further. We have about 2 years before that becomes critical. We can pretend to be a normal family for a bit longer.

The real interesting part comes after talking about her. This is when he talks about us, the parents, and alternative therapies. Alternate therapies are those with no studies showing they work or do not work. Alternative therapies range from stretching (no studies prove that this will help with her hip) to all sorts of weird, witch doctor type stuff.

effect, something like 40% of people will report improvement from anything as long as they He did not propose or endorse any of these things. He made it clear it is up to us and that we must look at it. (The wife has been doing a lot of research on this stuff and seemed to know more about some of them than he did. Also, due to the placebobelieve it may help.) The only caution he gave us is the effect that alternative therapies can have on a marriage and families. There are people who have mortgaged their house to pay for this stuff. As well, usually one spouse wants to try anything while the other thinks there is no point, and this leads to serious problems when the family is poor and living on the street and one spouse thought it was a waste of money.

So, it seems that since there is very little we can do for our daughter, the biggest problem we face is dealing with the effects of that and the possible break up of our marriage/family.

For me, I want to do what is best for our daughter. To me, that seems to be making her as comfortable as possible. At this point, there is nothing we can do to treat her problem, only the symptoms. I am not willing to mortgage the farm when it won't address the problem.

If there was even a slim chance we could treat the situation with her brain, I might feel differently.

Trapped

I used to hear about how women could feel trapped staying at home. I would see/hear about shows, such as Oprah, where women would talk about how hard it was to be a stay at home parent. I would listen but never believe. I mean, stay at home, no stress from work, just throw in a few loads of laundry once in a while. How hard could that be?

I still believe it is easy in that respect, but it is the mental aspects that are the hardest.

You hear men (great fodder for comedy) talk about coming home from a hard day at work and the wife just laying into them about nothing, all mad about something very minor that happened days ago. They would chalk it up to hormones or something of that nature.

It's not hormonal, as I just experienced it.

For the last three hours I have been trying to get a few things done and make a few simple phone calls. Katherine has been very demanding of attention at the worst possible moments and cannot be distracted. I hate whining in children, and she can be very effective at it if she doesn't get what she wants.

After three hours of this I have a headache and I feel like I am going to snap. I just made a typo and I had an urge to throw this laptop.

I am angry. But I can't take it out on the children, because they do not know any better and then I would be a bad parent. The logical, or most readily available target is the wife.

If the wife can home right now I would find any excuse to start a fight so I could have an outlet.

Hopefully a telemarketer will call before she gets home so I can take it out on them.

Honey, if you are reading this at work, bring flowers.

Happy Birthday Twins!

This week, the girls' had their first birthday. What a disaster.

One year is a bit young to get the whole presents thing, so I did not expect much. Dirt on the floor is new and exciting to a one year old, so a present is not much different.

For those of you do not know, putting a sparkler on a cake for a one year old is not a good idea.

After that, things went a bit downhill. I opened the presents, but Katherine was still a bit upset. Only the cake calmed her down, as she proceeded to shove fistfuls, as much as she could hold in her hand.

Katherine gets upset at times, but it usually doesn't last very long. That night she spent 45 minutes to an hour screaming as we were trying to put her to sleep, and not normal screaming, but the extremely loud, "I am really upset", screaming. Nothing we did could calm her down. We eventually just had to put her down and let it run its course. That is the first time she has ever done anything like that.

First Birthday: Twins receive some books, stuffed animals, and a toy drum. Parents receive a screaming fit the likes of which they have never experienced before.

I guess we will call that even.

Home Alone: Day 5

The Wife comes home tomorrow.

Yesterday and today went very well. I think I have a hang of this Mr Mom stuff. In fact, I got the kitchen clean for the first time in a year.

It is easy to keep things in proper order when you are by yourself. When the Wife is here, she usually makes dinner. Unfortunately, she thinks that making dinner means that just about every pot, pan dish or utensil must be used. And she leaves them all piled up in the sink for me to deal with. I prefer to clean as I go, to keep my workspace in good order and minimize the mountain of dishes at the end.

I have a good feeling that I can handle when she gets back to work. I like to be organized, and the house is still disorganized from when we moved two years ago. I have been deferring to her when it comes to the house, but it's time for me to embrace the housewife job fully.

There's a new sheriff in town.

Home Alone: Day 4

Things are going well.

Thursday was horrible, as Katherine was in a mood and would not stop going to her sister to play with her. We are trying not to discourage her from interacting with Jocelyn, but it is hard when playing consist of steamrolling over her or lying on her face.

Other than that, I have not left the house since the Wife left. The weather has been poor, constant rain or very cloudy, so I have not been able to put Katherine in her pool. Today looks better, with more sun. We are all going out no matter what. I don't care if it is to buy toilet paper, but I am getting out of this house before I go squirrelly.

Home Alone: The Wife is Gone

Well, the wife finally left me.

No, you don’t get to collect on the pool. She left for a 5 day trip with a group she belongs to, so I am here, alone with the babies. I consider this a test for when she goes back to work at the end of the month. I just got back from two weeks away and she survived, so how hard could it be?

She left me with only one rule to follow. Well, actually, she left me with about a million small rules. Everything from who wears what, when who gets to eat what, to what shampoo to use between the hours to 3 and 5 am on days ending in Y. (I exaggerate on the last one, but only just.) Anyway, being a man, I mostly tuned it all out. Being a military man, I prefer my instructions simple and to the point. So I distilled the millions of little pieces of advice into one overall point, or, as we like to call it, mission:

Keep the babies alive until I return.

Piece of cake.

Guilt and the Modern Woman

Part of the reason I married the Wife is she lacks some of the stereotypical female traits that I find annoying.

Some women need a man. The Wife does not. She is very independent. We met in our 30's and I know she married me, not because she had to, but because she wanted to. Even the ticking of the biological clock is not a factor in her case, as I was the one who wanted to have kids, while she was a bit ambivalent about it.

However, there are some stereotypical biological imperatives that even she cannot overcome.

Guilt.

The wife has her thing once a week. In addition, one of us often goes out to shop or run errands while the other stays home with the kids. We used to try taking them both, but having twins is a license for anyone to come up to you and say "Twins! How cute. My friend/sister/relative has twins." I estimate anything we do with the girls takes at least 10% longer from people coming up to talk to you.

Although the Wife may not have had a strong biological drive to have kids, some of those drives kicked in after. Most strongly was guilt.

Once a week, when she goes out for the evening, she comes back feeling guilty that she has "abandoned" them, despite the fact that I also go out one evening a week. We both have personal things to do, and I often tell her to take some extra time for herself when she is picking up groceries to get her hair done, whatever she wants. She always comes back feeling guilty for leaving the kids for so long, despite the fact that it was my idea and it was only 2 hours. Believe me, I do not feel any guilt when I am away for a few hours and browsing through Best Buy.

I am not proud of it, but sometimes I will use this to my advantage and overstate how things were while she was gone. “This one wouldn’t stop crying, the other one wouldn’t settle down, I have a headache” etc. This is usually good for at least a clean up of the kitchen.

I expect this will become a high payoff strategy when the Wife goes back to work and I have them all day.

A Day with a Social Workers is Like a Day Without Sunshine

I don't like social workers.

No offense to good social workers out there, but our experience has not been very positive.

About a day and a half after Jocelyn was born, she started to have seizures and had to go on medication. This was the first sign that something more was wrong than could be explained away by birth stress. The doc was very honest with us about it, and the Wife broke down and started to cry. There was a social worker hovering in the background who just about pounced on her with "How do you feel? Do you want to talk about it?" I have just found out that the chance of my daughter surviving has gone down significantly, how do you think I feel about it? And why would I want to share that with I person I have not even met before?

Needless to say, with the exception of one, throughout this whole process I have not met a good social worker. They seem to hover around waiting for you to have an emotional breakdown so they can swoop in and save the day. And they expect that I can't wait to share my innermost feelings with a total stranger whom I will never see again. Or they are spies looking to see if you can't deal with your baby so the heavy hand of the state can snatch it away. Perhaps I am a bit paranoid, but it isn't paranoia if they are out to get you.

The one we did like was very unassuming, gave us her card and said to call if we needed anything. We are not going to call, but I appreciated her low key approach.

I see the Social Worker like the Grim Reaper. You know it's bad if the social worker shows up. It's a cue that the news is going to be bad and you will be upset. In fact, if they do show up, you probably should get upset, otherwise they might think you are some non-feeling monster and start looking into you more closely.

In these cases, it is the job of the Wife to be emotional while I play the strong, supportive husband.