Month: September 2015

Just Another Day

I know we are busy. I know we start getting dressed in the mornings and try to eat at the same time. I am aware that the brain fog of early morning is nothing to be messed with but seriously… who left the half-eaten bowl of Froot Loops on the back of the toilet? Not cool.

I was interviewed by for the Dads In The Limelight Series. It was a good interview and timely for me because I am in one of those dreary cycles where I don’t feel like being awesome at anything. You can read the interview here.

Fun story from Labor Day Weekend: We arrived at the TN River just in time for the girls to go on a boat ride with the grandparents. The smallest child, Lady Bug, went on the boat in her cute little swimsuit and life jacket. She had those beefy little baby legs that are so cute and little round feet that make her waddle just a bit when she walks. They all got on the boat as we stayed behind to unload the van. When everyone returned they had been swimming in a playing in sand. Lady Bug’s diaper had taken on water and just like the Titanic, it fell apart and sank, so she was going commando in her swimsuit. No big deal. We could gamble on that for a few minutes.

The four girls sit down at the picnic table as we start to prepare little paper plates with fruits and chips for afternoon snacks. Supermom notices that there is a very large puddle forming under Lady Bug and sure enough she has peed. Just from a gut reaction I checked her swimsuit and found that she had also brewed up a number two. Once again we have a child isolated in the middle of a group of people while we decide how to handle an open-potty situation. We opted for the hose in the side of the yard. Spray them down and start over.

Another fun story: Supermom got a couple of tattoos from a good friend of mine who has worked hard and made a name for himself in the tattoo world. We didn’t test his mad skills in any way but I am really excited that he was able to do it.

The first one is for breast cancer and cute hearts.


The second is a semi-colon for a daily reminder to keep your head up and smile.


-Underdaddy to the rescue

Labor Day Weekend

We had a slam packed weekend and I haven’t had much time to sit and write anything out. There are some good stories and one involves diapers and boating.

We went to Discovery Park of America. Always a good time. We went up in a really tall tower where I faced my one true fear.

I can see our car from here!

I can see our car from here!

No, not heights.

Spawn of Satan under the glass floor. If it fell through I would have a fifty-fifty chance of dying from the impact.

Spawn of Satan under the glass floor. If it fell through I would have a fifty-fifty chance of dying from the impact.


Then we went inside to the space section and I had an interesting thought. This golden plate was attached to the Voyager probe in case aliens ever discover it so they can know where it came from and who we are. I think it was a little short sighted though.

Does anyone else think this look like someone walked in on the whitest couple in America having sex?

Does anyone else think this look like someone walked in on the whitest couple in America having sex?

What about the obesity epidemic or the fact that every person they will ever encounter has clothes. This will be helpful if they land at a friendly nudist colony. For true accuracy I think the figures needed to be in utility clothing and holding some sort of weaponry.

The outdoor portion of the Discovery Park had an old firehouse and one of my other deeply held fears presented itself.

Get off the pole!

Get off the pole! Quit smiling like that!

They looked entirely too comfortable thinking about swinging from that thing.


We spent the next day at the Tennessee River which has rock layers that contain lots and lots of fossils. One of our favorite things to do is look for cool plants and animals in the rock. Jane found a Trilobite almost immediately.


Trilobite Imprint

We had a pretty good haul at the end if the day.

Corals, a shell, and a volcanic rock.

Corals, a shell, and a volcanic rock.

The weekend was an awesome break from the newly established school routine.

I hope everyone had a good holiday. Back to the regular stuff later this week!


Butter Finger

She beckoned me from the top of the stairs. She might have said, “Dad!” but with the pacifier she sounds like a kidnap victim trying to talk through duct tape. “MMmm!” I notice she is pointing at the ceiling while walking down the stairs. How curious.

“What could be on the ceiling?” I thought to myself, “What could this small peach colored child possibly be pointing at with her abnormally large, dark brown finger?”

Maybe she wants one of something. Maybe she is telling me that I am number one. Maybe she is trying to dance disco style. Why is the finger brown?

Oh. Oh no.

“Mommy! Code brown!”

We quickly isolate the offending finger and the other hand just to be safe. I can smell the evidence. The small hope that I held out for her brown finger being melted chocolate quickly disappeared. Guess it is bath night. Judging from the size of the diaper, she was just trying to keep it from squeezing out the top. Lots of poop.

Pretty standard stuff really except for one thing. She had been playing in the playroom for the last thirty minutes and she had been alone. Hazmat level 3.

Armed with a bag of generic wipes I ventured into the crime scene. Time to remove the evidence.
I wonder to myself if serial killers feel like this when they are cleaning up blood spatter. The same principles apply.

1) If you miss any it will come back to haunt you.
2) When in doubt wipe it down and bleach it.
3) This will always be in the back of your mind. Others may forget. Evidence may dry up. You will live with this for a long time.
4) Stuffed animals and clothing can’t be trusted. Burn them.

The danger has passed and the house is sanitized. Fingernails have been scrubbed. Luckily the evidence in the playroom was minimal. I think she struck oil and immediately came for ass-istance. Good girl. Asking for help is a sign of maturity and strength.

If you have cleaned up a miniature Mr. Hanky murder scene, this post is for you. I have posts named Yard Biscuit and Couch Croissant so now Butter Finger goes in the file. You’re welcome.

-Underdaddy to the rescue.