Trip to the Pharmacy #2

The trouble with the pharmacy is that they know you really aren't going to go anywhere else because they have the medicine we need, and its not like I can whip up a batch of Amoxicillin in my kitchen. If I dislike a grocery store there are plenty of others to choose from. Pharmacies on the other hand leave us with fewer choices. Grocery stores are mostly open 24 hours, whereas pharmacies are closer to bankers hours.

So I pull up to our friendly neighborhood Walgreens around 7:00 last night and there were 4 cars in the drive through so I decided we would go inside (some of you may remember what happened the last time I took the kids inside the pharmacy). Antonio, Angelo and I went in and waited in line which apparently is of lower priority than the drive through line because we stood in line for 5 minutes and never saw a pharmacist. So like last time we went to the drink aisle and found a nice big bottle of cream soda...full of fast-acting sugar.

Now I will be the first to admit that I didn't have in mind what the end result would be. This was really half nagging kids (endlessly hearing "Daddy I'm thirsty") and half mad-science experiment (I wonder what would happen if I loaded the kids up on sugar and let them run free in Walgreens)? Well they were surprisingly tame for about two minutes until the liquid hyperactivity began to work its mojo. Still at the back of the line the kids slowly began to bounce up and down while fighting for sips of cream soda. Then as-expected the bouncing turned into jumping and stomping. Then the kids made their way over the the patient seating area where they began to jump up and down on the chairs while chanting "we love cream soda." Now I can stop this at anytime by enforcing my parental 1-2-3 magic, but I decide to stoke the flame by simply telling them that they are too loud...which never works but gives the outward appearance that I wanted them to stop when secretly I was telling them to jump higher and make more noise.

No sooner did this happen then I hear the pharmacist call for backup over the loudspeaker. I need Angie to the pharmacy we have a code cream soda...well maybe that's not verbatim but that's what I heard. Poor Angie. She began to pull people out of line in front of me and then while she wasn't even finished with the customer ahead of me she invited me up to claim our prescription. The prescription was sitting in the box behind her and she rung it up along with the cream soda which I was more than happy to pay for and we were on our way.

Yesterday marked the turning of a page for me as a father. I finally realized that I can harness the power of my children to get what I want out of people who otherwise would not care. Do I feel bad about that? No I don't. Because not only did I get my stuff faster, but so did everyone else in line. So the Walgreens staff had to witness my boys turn the pharmacy seating area into their own personal bounce house...the customers were all laughing and smiling at the antics anyway. In this instance I used a $1.39 bottle of cream soda as I would use my toll tag to breeze through the express lanes on the highway. People pay for convenience as evidenced by toll roads. Yesterday I made the pharmacist pay for my inconvenience and everyone waiting in line was better off for it.

Early Childhood Battle Tactics

My older two boys have definitely had it in for me the last week or so. I don't think they woke up with the mindset of trying to get under Daddy's skin, but I assure you that their tactics have been successful at achieving that end. Allow me to chronicle their battle tactics.

Day 1:
The enemy advanced stealthily downstairs around 6:30 AM.They began their reconnaissance mission by standing at the foot of the bed and observing the sleeping giants. They then proceeded to commence operation Rooster Crow by getting into a wrestling match at the bottom of the bed.Talk about a rude awakening.

Day 2:
Impelled by the success of operation Roster Crow the bandits setup their base camp in the play room upstairs and began hurtling toys down the stairs at 6:00 AM. New Winter Olympic sport: Matchbox car jump down the banister. The kicker was the minefield at the bottom of the stairs that prevented my bull rush attack and provided ample time for the enemy to retreat. Classic guerrilla warfare.

Day 3:
No rude awakening to speak of but this temporary armistice is tentative at best. We enjoy a mildly pleasant day until dinner time rolls around. Yes, dinner is still a chore. The boys can be well-behaved all day, but when we sit down at the table as a family prepare for a showdown.The boys simultaneously launch into operation Eat No Greens. Not only do they refuse to eat anything that never walked, flew or swam, but they even refuse to share space on the dinner plate with veggies. They even go so far as to push veggies off of their plates and onto the dinner table to avoid commingling. Apparently veggies now have cooties and the meat can't even touch the veggies lest the meat become contaminated. Early bedtimes ensue.

Day 4:
Full frontal assault by the enemy. The ceaseless bickering is enough to drive us insane. Luckily we have been expecting this battle for days and we are prepared. With wooden spoons in hand we relentlessly chase the heathens back up the stairs to their respective rooms where time outs and spankings abound.

Day 5:
The counter attack: Divide and Conquer. As parents we present a unified front, and having already discussed our battle plan (and scarcely being able to withstand the near constant barrage) we immediately launch into action at the first skirmish of the day. Our counter insurgency plan is simple: we will split up the boys and no longer allow them to play together. Amazingly this is worse for them than any other punishment we could imagine. Victory at last. The 5 Day War ends as abruptly as it began.

We thought the boys (not to mention ourselves) would enjoy some time apart since they are constantly at each others throats, but ultimately they longed for the camaraderie. I think they finally realized that they should treat each other a little better if for no other reason than to have someone to commiserate. This is one battle tactic that will remain in our parental repertoire for years to come.

Noisy Toys and No Off Switch

Another Christmas has come and gone and we are left with the remnants of ham, unnecessary desserts, and of course an overabundance of toys. I'm not complaining mind you, because we can now give F.A.O. Schwartz a run for its money with the stockpile of toys we have just inherited, however I do offer one complaint in the toy department and I think we should lay down some ground rules (and perhaps a few federal laws) before next Christmas rolls around.

1. Any relative that gives one of my children a noise-making toy will forfeit his/her invitation to all family events and/or be subject to torture treatment comprised of being placed in a straight-jacked and forced to listen to the noise-making toy for eight continuous hours. Decision to subject family members to noise torture will be at the sole discretion of Mommy and Daddy.
   
2. I propose a new federal law that prohibits the sale of noise-making toys without off-switches.Like ABS brakes and GFCI outlets this is a must have. What kind of person designs a child's toy without an off switch...a person who doesn't have any children.
3. Federal law number two. Only parents of children under 5 years of age may design toys for children under 5 years of age. If your children are older than 5 you have probably forgotten and must be replaced by someone with younger children who will then design the perfect toy.
4. Decibels will be regulated on all toys. Toy manufacturers can and should be fined for creating toys exceeding 50 decibels, which according to Dangerous Decibels is the sound of a "Quiet Suburb, Conversation at Home". The EPA will categorize all toys exceeding 50db as noise pollutants and regulate them as such under article For the Love of God, subsection Give me a Break, part Causes of Parental Insanity.
   
5. Toyicide will be a new word in the dictionary. Cause: Daddy trips over a noise-making toy with no off switch. Definition: to throw or slam said toy against a hard surface (or hit it with a hammer) with enough force to cause the internal components to rupture through the exoskeleton in an attempt to shut it off. Punishment can be levied up to and including the repurchase of said toy or a similar model. I personally prefer a similar model with an off-switch.

Here's looking forward to a new year filled with hope and quiet. I am hopeful that it will be quiet, but I don't really think that it will be. The Mother's Curse is alive and well in my home. I may have peace and quiet in about 17 years, but I won't be holding my breath for that. Happy New Year.

Anatomy of Laundry

With three boys laundry piles up quickly. I don't mind folding clothes especially if it can be done while catching up on my favorite TV shows. What amazes me is how long it takes to fold it all. I can fold my own clothes in 5 minutes or less. Why then does it take me 20 minutes to fold my children's clothes? Two words: Quantity and Ambiguity.

The quantity of little things (socks, undies etc.) is ridiculous. I swear my children go through their entire wardrobes weekly. Luckily the little stuff doesn't take up a lot of room or else we would have to buy a second dryer. As they approach high school this may become a reality, but at least for now we can delay that pruchase.
 
Add to this the ambiguity of sorting 4T from 5T and that's why it takes so darn long. I have to check the tag on every single pair of pants and every shirt to see who it belongs to. Note that this rarely applies to the baby because it is pretty easy to tell an 18-month outfit from a 4T or 5T, but every once in a while I catch myself doing it.
 
Also it is worth noting that when my clothes go in the laundry they are all right side out, with my boys not so much. My children must think that there is a little fairy who lives in the washer or dryer that magically turns their clothes right side out again. Well let me tell you there is no fairy but there is definitely a sucker!

I think I'm going to fold all of their clothes inside out just once. Would they attempt to wear them inside out at first? Do you think they would get the hint? I think this hypothesis is definitely worth testing.

Phrases Children Don't Understand

It never ceases to amaze me when parents awash with disappointment leer sternly at their children and say things that seem well-intentioned on the surface but in reality come out making the parent look dumber than the child. Here are the three I heard most recently.

How many times have do I have to tell you...

• What do you hope to accomplish by asking this question? Are you honestly asking your child a rhetorical question? Children don't understand sarcasm and they certainly don't understand which questions are meant to be answered and which are not. Plus if you actually have to ask how many times you have told them something then what you are doing definitely isn't working and I suggest an alternate strategy for getting through to them. 1-2-3 Magic works for us!
  

I can't take you anywhere

• Really? Anywhere? Now I know that this one is normally uttered out of complete exasperation but you would need a live in maid to rectify that situation. Until then please steer clear of the superlatives, because you know that you will be reloading the minivan tomorrow and repeating the process. Lather - Rinse - Repeat!
  

Focus (Thought not technically a phrase I felt it deserved honorable mention)

• Are you serious? Focus on what? I know it is a simple word, but unless I stick a chocolate bar in front of my kids they don't understand focus. A focused child is like a UFO sighting. I've heard that it happens, but I've never seen it in person.

Now I'm really going to have to watch out that I don't use these phrases lest I be chastised by my wife and friends who would not miss the opportunity to call me a hypocrite. Feel free to submit any phrases you feel deserving of lampooning to the Feats of Fatherhood page on Facebook.

Cleaning Up After Baby

When the time comes for baby to begin graduating from milk only to solid foods it is often a sad occasion since it marks the beginning of the end of cleanliness. Not that babies are 100% clean before they begin eating solid foods, since there is always a need to carry a burp rag for the inevitable spit up, but once they begin eating solid foods we go through more bibs and wet wipes than Joe's Crab Shack during Crabfest. Add to that the high chair/booster seat which might as well be hosed off after dinner due to the remnants of cereal, slobber, and other food scraps and one can understand why the introduction of solid foods is met by experienced parents with the slightest tinge of ire.

This period of decreasing cleanliness (or increased messiness depending on your outlook on life) can be enough to drive some parents crazy. It drove us crazy with our first child or two. Then we learned that the area within a 5 foot radius of baby will never be clean and it is futile to try and keep said area debris-free for extended periods of time. The best one can do is to keep the destruction zone to a minimum.

Here are some hard and fast rules for keeping that area as clean as possible:

1. Do not seat baby close to any walls. Walls will match whatever baby is having for dinner.
2. Do not seat baby close to your other children. Children will attempt to lovingly feed baby. This often resembles a force feeding and should be avoided at all costs.
3. Unless the feeder bib looks like a straight-jacket do not feed baby in clothes that you intend the baby to wear for more than the next 30 minutes.
4. Do not seat baby within arms length of the dinner table. Ever seen the movie trick where someone grabs the tablecloth and jerks it out from under the dishes? Yeah, it's kind of like that except the dishes come with it when the baby grabs the tablecloth.

The astute reader will notice that I have left few places safe to actually feed the baby. There are two places I can think of that will work nicely: outside or in the bathtub. These are the only safe places to feed baby. If you decide not to follow my rules you do so at your own risk.

For the record I have considered busting out the Christmas tree skirt and putting it under his chair when he eats just to make the cleanup easier. Could you imagine just being able to pick up the skirt and shake it off outside after dinner? No more sweeping and mopping under the baby's chair after meals! I think I've found the next great invention! Someone call Babies R Us.

Trip to the Pharmacy

Antonio had to get a prescription filled "after hours" last night so we (Antonio, Angelo and myself) went in search of a 24-hour pharmacy. They were behaving so wonderfully that I decided that they could each choose a candy bar to snack on while we waited the 45-minutes for the prescription to be filled. At that time of night I was floored to have such a long wait. I explained that my son was having an allergic reaction and would like to have the medication dispensed ASAP. She told me that there were several people ahead of me seeking flu medication. I thought to myself yes, but the people suffering from the flu won't unleash an unholy terror on this Walgreens like my two pre-schoolers will, especially after I amp them up with a little chocolate. I think she could see that in my eyes.

So we mosey on over to the candy aisle and proceed to engage in an endless ebb and flow of Angelo grabbing something and then Antonio choosing something different and then Angelo choosing what Antonio chose then Antonio changing his mind etc. Repeat this cycle for about 10-15 minutes all the while explaining to Angelo why he won't like licorice flavored candy straws, or jalapeno spiced nougat or whatever else they put within arms length of 3-year olds on the candy aisle. Did I mention this all took place within earshot of the pharmacy? Let's just say that I ended up making the executive decision to buy something for all appetites (a package of Riesen a roll of Sweettarts, a bottle of cream soda) and we called it quits.

I'm certain the pharmacist could hear this commotion because no sooner had we purchased our delectable desserts than I hear my name paged over the intercom. 45 minutes quickly turned into 15. Much to the surprise of the other waiting patrons we sashayed to the pharmacy paid and quickly left.

Flattery may get you everywhere, but screaming kids will get you whatever you want faster.