Daddy Day 2018
Mom went to help out a friend, so I got the chance to have the kids all to myself. This day will be epic.
I start it off preparing my infamous go-to breakfast. Country browns, sausage, and eggs.
Hattie ate her share and half of my share of the sausage. Once I showed her to dip the browns in ketchup, she ate some of them also. Keenan politely declined breakfast. Playing cars is way more important. No biggie, I put his plate out of the dogs reach and let him play. I’m thankful he didn’t call it yucky, because his little sister would have turned on me!
Hattie got ketchup all over herself, the table, the sliding glass door and the dog. So I run a bath for her, Keenan wanted to join, until he didn’t. He’s at an awkward age where there doesn’t need to be a real reason to whine. I let him know that he doesn’t HAVE to take a tubby… He half cries all the way back to the Hot Wheels, We Good!
I get Hattie in clothes and turn on Boomerang. Looney Tunes is my favorite!
Sidenote: We were watching an episode of Coyote and Road Runner a while back when Hattie started calling Wyle E. Coyote “Bubba” (our dog’s nickname) and Road Runner “Chicken.” After “Bubba fell off the cliff a couple times, Hattie goes “Oh, Bad Chicken!”
They settle in and are glued to the classics, so I get up to clean the kitchen up a bit. Y’know to Dad standards anyway! which never involves bleach or even counter wipedowns, but dishes are rinsed and in the washer, cast iron is wiped and oiled, and the remainder of the cold eggs and hasbrowns are in my belly! I manage to get a load of laundry in the wash, roughly 4 or 5 to go.
Hoping the naps would be the end result of TV time, I realized sometime around the Powerpuff Girls that it wasn’t going to happen! Restlessness caused rambunctiousness. Baby dolls were flying over the couch, sippy cups dumping on the linoleum, and Alexa was being used as a hockey puck. It’s wet and grey in January in the great PNW so I ask the kids if they want to walk to the park. They harmonized the “YAAAAAAAY!” How adorable.
Preparing these little wiggle worms for a trip to the park that will no doubt be wet and mucky is no easy task. Base layers then water proof layers followed by the shoe fight, yes, the shoe fight. You might think the rain boots are the obvious choice, but NOOOO! These little Assholes want the Chuck’s on or Hattie’s plastic princess heels?!?! I’m the grown up here, so I pack the poor choice shoes in my backpack to gratify the masses. I also pack a towel to dry the swings and slides, after all, this ain’t my first rodeo. We are all dressed appropriately and head to the laundry to switch and reload before the 3 block walk. Oh, and I collar up Bubba, he needs to get out too!
They were surprisingly obedient on the walk. I give Keenan a little freedom to walk ahead as long as he stops when I tell him and he waits for us to catch up. They both hold my hands as we cross the one crosswalk in our route. We get to the park with relative ease. The instant we are at the park though, Keenan is in sprint mode, Bubba is in shit mode, Hattie is trying to catch up with Keenan but she’s watching her feet instead of her brother, and I’m going cross-eyed trying to keep track of it all. No one is at the park so I let Bubba off leash, but watching closely for the dump, I can’t stand dog owners that leave feces where my kids play!
Meanwhile, Keenan’s found a shortcut (at least that’s what it sounds like he’s telling me), Hattie is at the Swings wanting a lift and a push. There’s the squat I was waiting for, I’m grabbing a hot turd with my green poop bag covered right hand while Bubba finds the energy of a pup to now run around the perimeter.
By the time I throw the bag of dog shit away, Hattie has found a “muddy puddle” to lay down in. That damn British pig is a terrible influence!
Where the hell is Keenan? Hattie points him out for me, he’s checking out the garbage can. Smart kid is reading off the letters painted on it. I’m impressed, half the time I can’t decipher graffiti, and who is this Amy chick anyways??
Both kids are corralled over to the swings, I get them going and then chase down the dog. He’s barking at one of the neighbors trying to unload groceries.
The kids swing for a few, I get them all excited by doing a few “follow them under” pushes. They both get such a huge kick out of those. I figure it’s about time to head back to the house when I see the teeth chatter. “You guys want to go home and get some soup?”
“Yeah, I want Lightning McQueen soup daddy!” Keenan keeps inventory of our pantry.
“Alright, Princess Ana soup it is!”
“No DOSTH! I said LIGHTNING!” I get called by my name every once in a while now. Did I mention that I’m carrying both of them and dragging the damn dog at this point? Well, I am.
I should probably learn to use the microwave to cook the kids their soup. I just like mine better boiled on the stovetop. Patience is thin and the force is strong with the eldest. I distract him with crayons and legal paper. I got two soups going, one pot of Lightning and one pot of tomato. Turns out both kids really wanted tomato. I can’t blame them, the odd shaped noodles do not enhance the flavor of this chicken noodle impostor! But at least they ate! I had some of the broth off the Lightning, washed it down with a Rainier. #proDADmove
I got about 2 hours to fold laundry and wash the remaining loads while the naps finally landed post lunch! I listened to roughly 4 chapters of the Surviving Home book while I was at it. I’m almost to book 4!
Keenan awoke, the crayon distraction fueled full on art dreams and he was determined to paint. I dug out the easels because I knew Hattie would have to join in once she got up. I tried my best to keep it a watercolor session, but Keenan kept telling me that Uncle Beau-Beau brought over “Nnnnneeeeeeeeeuuuuuuuwwwwwww paint!” Mom just rearranged the craft closet, luckily Keenan was able to point me in the right direction.
I need to invest in some smocks.
Keenan insists on a different palate that I initially brought out so I give this one to Hattie. I then get Keenan all set up with the perfect ROY G BIV. Now here is where I figured out that Keenan’s palate fight was a clever ploy. These little terrorists are distracting me on purpose!
The palate of 7 or 8 colors becomes a brownish mess in no time, Hattie hasn’t hit her paper once. However, her shirt, arms, neck and pants are covered. She was totally having fun until I laughed. Instant tears, now I feel bad. I quickly strip her down (and spray that Shout it out all over, cause I learned that last time!) and get her in the tub again. I really got to scrub ’cause I find paint in her hair along with full on sleeves!
All dried up, I get her in a new diaper, and I realize I haven’t heard from Keenan in a bit.
“It was Hattie”
“What was?” I say walking out of her room.
There is paint on the floors, paint on the dining room chairs, the table, the walls. There were painted pages wet side down on the couch and the kid table. DIVIDE & CONQUER I was totally a sucker!
“It’s okay Dosth, it was an accident!”
“I love you Keenan, Ya want a bath now?”