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Father’s Day Tribute

Father’s Day Tribute


Written By Ally Loprete

Here’s to the Fathers who have been there for the good and the bad.
To the Father who wasn’t sure that he even wanted to become a father, but when he did, embraced it in a way that surprised everyone including himself.
To the Father who gets up early to go to work every day to a job that he may not like, working for people he may not like, battling traffic to get home to his family in time for dinner, only to have a screaming toddler shoved in his face accompanied with the words, “Here, YOU take him.”
To the Father, who despite how exhausted he may be, still finds the energy to read to his kids at night with incredible commitment to voice each character in the book.
To the Father who changes the dirty diaper of a colicky baby at 3 in the morning and still goes to work the next day.
To the Father who builds massive forts with his kids out of couch cushions, throw blankets and boxes- and then cleans it up before mommy goes ballistic.
To the Father who handles his wife’s emotions like a champ, and never complains of the mascara stains left on his shirt from the black tears.
To the Father who works overtime so that he can buy a prom dress for his daughter, or a new scooter for his son.
To the Father who takes off work early to watch his son play soccer and score the winning goal, or watch his daughter star in her school play.
To the Father who longs for their children to succeed and nods proudly when they do the right thing.
To the Father who gives up watching the world series to help his son or daughter study for a test.
To the Father who supports his wife when she decides she wants to stay home with the kids, even though it means losing half of the family income.
To the Father who boldly defends his home in the face of danger and arms himself with a Fungo baseball bat when “strange noises” are coming from downstairs.
To the Father who stays in his 3 year old’s room and waits until he falls asleep because he’s afraid of the dark – every night.
To the Father who prepares his children for life’s unexpected difficulties by teaching how to change a flat tire, repair a leaky pipe or clean up after an earthquake.
To the Father who teaches his family to laugh at themselves, and keep laughing when life gets complicated.
To the Father who teaches his daughter to ride a bike, and picks her up when she falls down and cries, and holds her for as long as she needs, before getting back up and trying again.
To the Father who surprises his children on Christmas morning by dressing up as Santa Claus and delivering all the toys they asked for personally.
To the Father who carries his son or daughter proudly on his shoulders so that they can have a good view of the parade.
To the Father whose children love him, and only want to grow up to be just like him so that one day they can make him a proud grandfather.
To the Grandfather who has finally earned the right to hold out his beautiful young grandchild to his son or daughter, and say, “Here, change this.”

To Fathers everywhere: We know it’s not the easiest job in the world, but we know you do it with every ounce of love that you have, and your children are shining examples of what you have given to them. Thank you.

An Open Letter To People Without Children from People with Children, Part 1

An Open Letter To People Without Children from People with Children, Part 1

Written by guest blogger, James C. Ferguson

I don’t want to get off on the wrong foot; I don’t want to draw a line in sand separating the people with children from the people without children. I am in no way attempting to say that either group is any way better than the other. Neither am I attempting to ostracize those who have chosen to not have children (or perhaps are unable to). I don’t want to be part of a clique; nor do I want want to judge. But I do feel that there are a few things that I need to share/point out/mention/underscore.

What follows is an informal, disorganized list of points to consider when dealing with either children or people with children. Berate these points, ignore them, embrace them – I don’t care. But here they are:

A.) Toddlers are not pets.

I’ve owned cats. Cats are wonderful. Feed ‘em twice a day, make sure their water bowl is always full, give them an overpriced plastic box to pee in and some furniture to shed on and they’ll be your best friend. But even if they don’t, you can have them put down without going to jail.

I’ve also owned dogs. They entail a little more responsibility than cats – principally due to the fact that for some unknown reason having a big plastic box in your house for your dog to pee in is considered “uncouth.” (The temptation to make a joke here about FOX News is almost overpowering.) Dogs need to be walked. And that requires some scheduling. Depending on the size of the dog’s bladder, maybe it’s a couple of times a day. Maybe it’s a few times a day. Whatever it is, it’s considerably easier than the constant twenty-four hour responsibility of taking care of a toddler.

“Twenty four hours?” you say, maybe just a wee bit snidely. “Don’t they sleep?”

Sure. When they’re not waking up at three A.M. to vomit on you. And themselves. And the floor. And that pile of overpriced toys manufactured in China.

So if you’re trying to make plans with somebody who has a toddler it’s likely they’re going to say something like this:

“We’d be happy to meet you for dinner but we can only from 5 to 6 because I need to have [insert toddler’s name here] home by 6:30 for his bath so that I have time to get him into his pajamas, read to him and have him in bed by 8 because I need to be in bed by 8:30 because he’s gonna be up at 5.”

Don’t react as if they’ve just told you they collect teeth. Don’t judge. Just roll with it, savoring the fact that you’re probably not going to find food in the laundry.

Toddlers live and breathe by their schedules like the state of California lives and breathes by its taxes. (And beaches. But mostly taxes.) To make plans with somebody who has a toddler is to completely and freely give oneself up to their toddler’s schedule. If this idea bothers you and you need to pretend you’re in control of your life, I’m going to suggest waiting until [insert toddler’s name here] is in college before attempting to spend any time with [insert toddler’s name here]’s parents. The good news is that by that time, the parents of [insert toddler’s name here] will be so worn down from raising him or her that they’ll be completely beaten down (translation: malleable); thus, subjugating them to your iron will should be a snap.

To be continued …
(More letters to come … )


James C. Ferguson lives in Los Angeles with his wife, daughter and two cats. James’ novel, Context Clues, is available on Amazon.com. And his film, Happy Holidays, is available at iTunes, Indiepix, Cinemanow, Caachi and Eyesoda. Additional information can be found on the Happy Holidays MySpace and Facebook web sites.

Here’s To The Moms

Here’s To The Moms


Written by Chris Loprete

It’s a scenario that’s happened countless times in the last 3 years and will no doubt happen countless times more. I get home from a tiring day of work only to have my wife shove my toddler son into my arms with a heavy sigh saying, “Thank God! Here. you take him for awhile.” and suddenly my work day has been extended for a few more hours. This has caused some very intense…uh…discussions between my wife and I. I thought why the heck should I have to pull double duty? I’m exhausted too. Can I sit and enjoy some mindless television entertainment for a few hours before I have to go out into the cold, cruel, working world again? It’s not that we don’t love our little boy or that he’s some kind of problem child. He’s my best friend and very well behaved (most of the time). It’s just that I didn’t get why my wife’s day was sooo much more exhausting than mine. I was the one getting up early, sitting in traffic and dealing with bosses, deadlines and the pressures of providing for my family. What’s so tough about occupation: homemaker?

Before all the ladies up and through this place start hatin’ on me, let me make my point which is this: Ooooooooh. I get it. See I’ve been a stay at home dad, Mr. Mom, “manny”, or whatever you want to call it for the last 2 weeks. My wife just gave birth to our 2nd little boy. Thank you. He’s the most beautiful baby that’s ever been born in the history of time. You heard me. My job has essentially been to cook, clean, chauffer, entertain and otherwise occupy our 3 year old son while my wife takes care of our newborn. So I’ve had a glimpse of what my better half does during the day for very little thanks and essentially no pay. Wow. There’s a reason why society dictates that the men go off to work every day. If it were up to us to raise the kids, they’d all be wearing pajamas, eating cheese sandwiches and watching Sportscenter all day. They should make a movie about a dad staying at home with his kids. Maybe get Michael Keaton to star in it. What? Really? When? Oh, I‘ll have to check it out.

Actually if I do say so myself, I’ve done an excellent job these past two weeks. But by 8:30 at night, I am 10 times more tired than I am after a normal day at the office. For instance I promise never to scoff when my wife tells me about her disastrous shopping trip to Costco with our son. Last week I treated the other shoppers to the wacky physical comedy of trying to maneuver a shopping cart filled with bulk groceries while chasing a 3 year old sprinting towards the hot dog booth. Trying to turn that cart quickly is like steering an ocean liner. No wonder the Titanic hit that iceberg. Yesterday I took my kid to Disneyland. By myself. Some friends from work said, “Geez. Aren’t you having the time of your life while we’re slaving away back here at work?” I say to them, “Think so? Wanna trade places for a day?” I do believe my wife has said the exact same thing to me during those intense discussions I was talking about before.

So raise a glass to the moms, guys. Out of the whole year they get ONE day set aside for them and it’s coming up. Make sure it’s a good one. They’ve earned it. Here’s to your mom, my mom, and the mothers of our children. And the next time your wife says, “I need a break.” believe me…she does.

And just because I can’t leave well enough alone, a note to the dads: Take heart. Our day is coming next month and we’ve earned it too.

Father’s Day Tribute

Bridge of Exhaustion

Written by Chris Loprete

Every summer during my childhood my family would drive 7 hours south to North Carolina from Pennsylvania. On the way we would have to cross over the Chesapeake Bay Bridge, a 17 mile long bridge that spans the picturesque Chesapeake Bay, in Virginia. There are 2 places along the span where the bridge goes under water and turns into a tunnel. It always looks so foreboding from the northern side. You can’t see the end of it and the bridge just disappears into water in 2 places. When we were halfway across, I always thought, “If this thing goes, we’re in real trouble.” and, “How do they get traffic through if there’s an accident? We could be here for hours.” Then when we got to terra firma on the other side, I always realized that I had just experienced the most thrilling part of the 7 hour trip and actually looked forward to that part of the drive every summer. Well, lately I’ve been feeling like I’m halfway across another bridge. This bridge is a “transitional” bridge with the young adult starting a family on one side and the middle aged family man on the other. Like the Chesapeake Bay Bridge, its long, I can’t see the other side and I may even go under water a couple of times. But I know that I really should relax, enjoy the ride and be confident that a sandy beach waits for me up ahead. To tell you truth though, I’m just plain exhausted.

I quote the late, great Madelaine Khan from Blazing Saddles, ”I’mmm soooo tired.” (cue the chorus of German soldiers). Now if you’re reading this blog, most likely you’re a mommy or daddy which means you’re saying, “Yeah. Cry me a river, dude. We’re all tired.” I KNOW! I’m not telling you anything you don’t know. I’m just telling you my own experiences. That’s why these blogs are so brilliant and relatable. I truly am a magnificent talent. Anywho…

I’m the happiest I’ve been in a year. I don’t want you to mistake my exhaustion for depression. And I’m not even THAT tired currently…although I was literally up all night nursing my wife through the granddaddy of all migraines so I guess I AM exhausted at this exact moment. Generally speaking though, I am not really that worn out. Still last Monday morning I woke up looking at another work week and I almost collapsed in the shower for some reason. I just started to anticipate the coming months and years and how draining it was going to be. We’re 6 weeks from giving birth to our 2nd child…a boy… who has a 3 year old brother…who has boundless energy. I’m truly excited for the arrival of the newest member of our club and am not half as scared I was when we had our first son, BUT I’m also anticipating the work that accompanies another infant and toddler. In addition we just put our house on the market which means it’s very possible that someone could make an offer soon. That would mean we would have about 4 weeks to find another place, pack up and move….and I told you about the baby coming in 6 weeks right? Well, it’s probably more like 4. So while I’m driving my wife to the hospital, I can say to her, “Okay hon, but let me stop and drop a couple of boxes off at the new home first.” To top it all off I have a creative job that I LOVE and while it is far from digging a ditch or working on the freeway, it is constantly busy and mentally draining. And of course I’m hoping that I will keep working my way up the ladder which means more responsibilities and harder deadlines.

Am I really writing a blog about being tired? Geez. Tune in next month for my compelling blog entitled, I’m Hungry!
I guess my point is this. When does it start to get easier? Or does it? Growing up, I never saw my parents sweat. Everything just seemed to be settled and pretty easy. A nice home, vacations, clothes on our back and food on our table. Were they just protecting us kids from their tough times and stressful worries? It’s very likely. I guess that’s one of the many perks of being a kid. So I guess my situation isn’t any different than normal families. It’s just that I want so badly to give my kids everything I had and never make them feel guilty or even let them see me work hard for it. I don’t think there’s a time in the foreseeable future when that will happen. I’m tired of struggling. I’m tired of working at settling down. I want to BE settled. When Braden was first born I had a difficult time crossing the bridge to fatherhood, but now that I’m on the other side, I love it and I’m ready to live that life fully. When can we start saving money instead of living paycheck to paycheck? When can we take a family vacation? When do my wife and I start getting invited to those fun suburban key parties like the ones they had in the 70’s?
(KIDDING!!!! Please don’t hate me for that last one. It was time for a joke.)
When do I join the middle class for real? I can’t blame it on the recession either. My wife and I have always worked in the entertainment industry. We’ve been in a recession since the day after our college graduation. I am so incredibly fortunate that I’m married to my best friend, have the greatest little boy in the world (better than yours. sorry), have a roof over my head and a job (to say nothing of the fact that I’m in the rare situation of having a job that I enjoy!) So don’t get me wrong. I count my blessings every day. I’m just….ready to get to the other side of the bridge. And really tired.

Please Forgive the Pregnancy Brain

Please Forgive the Pregnancy Brain

Written by Ally Loprete

I don’t know how many more times I will be able to get away with the excuse that I am pregnant every time I have a brain fart. Seriously, my brain seems to be functioning less and less the larger the baby in my belly grows. Does the bloat travel upward to our heads as well? I am a bit of ditz, anyway- as my closest friends will tell you. And it’s not for lack of trying, or lack of caring. In fact, I used to be quite sensitive to the blond hair on my head until I met my husband and he helped me learn to laugh at my malapropisms and idiosyncrasies. There. A perfect example of how I mix metaphors and folk lore.
It’s times like these that I notice the difference in the patience level among my friends who parents like me, and those that are not. Not that I blame them, as I know I had less patience before I became a parent. It’s not that I was an insensitive person, but looking back, I see how easy it was to be judgmental. If we witnessed children acting up in a restaurant, for example, my husband and I would whisper to each other that when we have kids, we would make sure that they would behave much better that that. We’d nit-pick at the parents who were obviously are not giving their children the correct attention or discipline. Looking back at that time and that old me, I want to reach back into the past and smack my face. How dare I? The truth is, I barely recognize the person that I was before I had children and perhaps those unsympathetic notions are punishing me today with a very active toddler, often difficult to control in public places.
I used to be embarrassed by loud childhood behavior and public temper tantrums- especially the ones where my son would lay down in a high traffic area out of protest for not wanting me to hold his hand and force him to go in MY direction rather than his own. After nearly a year of this, I stopped apologizing to the disapproving strangers while they stepped over the obviously “poor parented” child on the ground, and stopped caring altogether what they must think of me.
But back to me and the air in my brain.
It’s gotten significantly worse upon becoming a parent, beginning with my first pregnancy. The term is called Pregnancy Brain: a lapse in awareness because of the fatigue that comes with creating a child and the big belly that causes a disruption in balance resulting in complete and total clumbsiness. Once the baby is born, the brain then transforms to Mommy Brain: a lapse in awareness resulting from sleepless nights and lack of adult interaction during the work week.
Of course, just as my toddler began sleeping through the night and I began to meet other numbed brained parents with whom I might commiserate did I rediscover all that lost energy returning. Of course, I became pregnant again soon after. Hello, pregnancy brain, can’t say that I missed you, but welcome back.
It’s no easier the second time around, either. The only difference is that I have stopped apologizing for it, and I’ve accepted it as part of the 9 month cycle. This is not to say that I don’t use the Pregnancy Brain explanation on a daily basis. The thing that I’ve noticed is that I don’t even need to give the explanation to my parent friends. They just nod in empathy when I’ve forgotten something obviously simple, like …oh…my own son’s name, or the year we are living in, or how to write a proper sentence. They get it…because they’ve either been there, or they are there with me now and didn’t even notice.
Yet, for all my non-parent friends, who I love as much as I ever did, for whom I find myself envying now and again for the motor in their minds that is still operating at full functionality- I forgive you for not quite understanding, but appreciate your acceptance, nonetheless. It would appear that parenthood kills more brain cells than the occasional kegger.
How I Knew Not to Take My Four Year Old to see Coraline.

How I Knew Not to Take My Four Year Old to see Coraline.

Written by Guest Blogger, Chris Mancini
I read the book a few years ago. I knew what it was about. I knew the director Henry Selick has a dark streak and directed Tim Burton’s The Nightmare Before Christmas. To be honest, I couldn’t wait for this movie to come out. When my four year old daughter Bella saw the trailer she wanted to see the movie. I told her no, it would be too scary.
Now, you would have no idea of that from the trailer. It shows happy scenes and a little bit of danger. Standard kid fare, right? Not even close. Coraline is an animated gothic horror nightmare for children. In 3D. And it’s well, great. But I’m not going to let my daughter see it for at least a few more years. But at the time of the trailer I hadn’t even seen it myself yet, so how did I know? Because I knew the source material and I knew who the people involved were who made the movie, and I noticed the PG rating, although after seeing it, it was really a borderline PG-13.
The book was terrifying. Especially if you’re a parent. It’s about a little girl who disappears through a small door in their new home and meets her “other” mother and father who are much nicer to her, at first. The problem is they have dead black buttons for eyes. The creepiness is lightened slightly for the movie, but not much, that’s for sure. And to be truly effective, it shouldn’t have been. I was very impressed. But as a parent, it doesn’t help you how good a movie is if it’s inappropriate for your children. Your kid may like video games and enjoy Mario Kart but you don’t want them going to Vegas and playing video poker, do you? Technically, still a video game.
As usual, trailer editors and marketing departments have no idea what the content is that they’re trying to sell. So it’s up to us parents to not only filter content but to now also adjust for big studio incompetence as well. As if we didn’t have enough to do.
So know your books, know your shows and know your movies. And look, if you get stuck or miss something, just as me or any other parent who always seems to be talking about Aqua Teen Hunger Force or Battlestar Galactica. Trust me, we’ll know.
Coraline is an absolutely fantastic movie and I can’t recommend it enough. It will soon be a classic up there with the Nightmare Before Christmas. See it in 3D for the full effect. Just don’t take your little kids. Seriously. Don’t. Get a babysitter and leave them home with Wall-E.
Chris Mancini is a comedian and author. His first book “Pacify Me: A Handbook for the Freaked-Out New Dad” will be out June 2, just in time for Father’s day.http://www.daddyneedssomealonetime.blogspot.com/