The Man. The Myth. The Birthday Legend.

Oh dads.

If you are lucky enough to have one or have had one in your life, then you win. A familiar fixture on this blog and in my life, my dad celebrates his day of birth (along with his twin!) today. Aunt Crazy Pants once doled out advice that I didn’t think much of at the time when I was younger. She said (during some stupid crazy boy drama, no doubt) “No man will ever love you the way your dad loves you.”

This didn’t really dawn on me until I was an “adult” (a term I use for myself extremely loosely these days) and a dude I was living with said to me, “I can’t treat you like your dad treats you.”

BOY BYE.

I guess I never had to think about it because of the jackpot I scored when my dad chose to be mine. A knight in shining (well, in his case probably rusty) armour. A frugal on the allowance guy whose driving abilities were always affected by how loudly the radio was playing in unknown territory (TURN DOWN Q.102 GIRLS WE’RE IN DES MOINES!). A dad who commuted four hours daily to work but rarely missed an extra curricular activity. A dude who could scare boyfriends shitless with his size but is actually a giant, goofy Teddy Bear.

A father who not only duct taped my glasses together in the third grade (hence the short-lived nickname “Ducky” by the oh-so-sweet fellow 4th graders) but also uses the same magic to keep my bumper adhered to my car as an “adult”.

A dad who tells you to “tough it up” when you’re sitting in the superintendent’s office, holding a bloody chin after being hit in the face with a baseball bat during P.E. but remains strong and silent decades later when he’s driving you to the hospital after being raped.

So yeah, Aunt Crazy Pants and her advice rings true – best of luck to a dude ever living up to The Man, The Myth, My Legend.

Celebrating the Big Fella today, please join me as I share some of the valuable…

LESSONS FROM MY LEGEND


Image 90

You should always have your family’s back…

bl

     … even if they often attack.

Throw your hands up in the air…

wave

…and wave them like I just don’t care.

Even if you’re a dork inside…

...without my shades.

                                              

…it’s no matter if you’re cool on the outside.

The art of muscle blowing is unique.

blow

                      

and

                                       

still

Passed down to generations for upkeep.

Pink isn’t just for girls…

flex

…guys often put the color on for a whirl.

Sequins should be in my everyday attire…

love

     … as you gave me the first bedazzled top I ever acquired.

It’s OK to stand out in a crowd…

Dada C-Note

…just be sure to do it loud and proud.

Giving is better than receiving…

Image 91

…except when you let your three year old open your gift to be appeasing. 

The importance of slathering on sunscreen daily…

very

   …just be sure to not get too crazy.

The significance of jazz hands…

was

…often help when making demands.

It’s not a road trip…

check

…unless you have rot gut vodka and your finger to mix.

Reminding me there’s more than one fish in the sea…

fish

           …especially whenever a boy has been mean to me.

Being the life of the party…

never

                                    

…is like leading one big, fun army.

The duo that shoots shots together…

Wild Turkey

Image 11

Stays together.

…stays together.

It’s important to share…

at the

…even while pigging out at the Iowa State Fair.

It’s OK to relax…

after

…after a day has been crap.

You’ve carried me through physical hard times…

broken foot

         

broken ankle

…even if sometimes it was from too much self-inflicted wine.

Tipping my Skinny Pirates when my nails are drying…

treat

                         

…because you know there’s a silver lining.

Most importantly, not all heroes wear capes…

Not all

…just dads who pick us up no matter our proverbial scrapes. 

So let us all raise our glasses today…

cheers!

…and cheers your birthday away!

Those are just a few of my lessons from…

happy

 The Man. The Myth. The Legend.

Happy Birthday Dada!

Join the twins in a sing-a-long to Coo Coo…

(of course we do not have normal monikers such as Grandpa in my classy family)

We love you.

CBXB

CBXB!

The Birthday Legend

Oh dads.

If you are lucky enough to have one or have had one in your life, then you win. A familiar fixture on this blog and in my life, my dad celebrates his day of birth (along with his twin!) today. Aunt Crazy Pants once doled out advice that I didn’t think much of at the time when I was younger. She said (during some stupid crazy boy drama, no doubt) “No man will ever love you the way your dad loves you.”

This didn’t really dawn on me until I was an “adult” (a term I use for myself extremely loosely these days) and a dude I was living with said to me, “I can’t treat you like your dad treats you.”

BOY BYE.

I guess I never had to think about it because of the jackpot I scored when my dad chose to be mine. A knight in shining (well, in his case probably rusty) armour. A frugal on the allowance guy whose driving abilities were always affected by how loudly the radio was playing in unknown territory (TURN DOWN Q.102 GIRLS WE’RE IN DES MOINES!). A dad who commuted four hours daily to work but rarely missed an extra curricular activity. A dude who could scare boyfriends shitless with his size but is actually a giant, goofy Teddy Bear.

A father who not only duct taped my glasses together in the third grade (hence the short-lived nickname “Ducky” by the oh-so-sweet fellow 4th graders) but also uses the same magic to keep my bumper adhered to your car as an “adult”.

A dad who tells you to “tough it up” when you’re sitting in the superintendent’s office, holding a bloody chin after being hit in the face with a baseball bat during P.E. but remains strong and silent decades later when he’s driving you to the hospital after being raped.

So yeah, Aunt Crazy Pants and her advice rings true – best of luck to a dude ever living up to The Man, The Myth, My Legend.

Celebrating the Big Fella today, please join me as I share some of the valuable…

LESSONS FROM MY LEGEND


Image 90

You should always have your family’s back…

bl

       … even if they often attack.

Throw your hands up in the air…

wave

…and wave them like I just don’t care.

Even if you’re a dork inside…

...without my shades.

                                              

…it’s no matter if you’re cool on the outside.

The art of muscle blowing is unique.

blow

                       Passed down to generations…

and

                                              … and generations …

still

…to upkeep.

Pink isn’t just for girls…

flex

…guys often put the color on for a whirl.

Sequins should be in my everyday attire…

love

     … as you gave me the first bedazzled top I ever acquired.

It’s OK to stand out in a crowd…

Dada C-Note

…just be sure to do it loud and proud.

Giving is better than receiving…

Image 91

…except when you let your three year old open your gift to be appeasing. 

The importance of slathering on sunscreen daily…

very

   …just be sure to not get too crazy.

The significance of jazz hands…

was

…often help when making demands.

It’s not a road trip…

check

…unless you have rot gut vodka and your finger to mix.

Reminding me there’s more than one fish in the sea…

fish

           …especially whenever a boy has been mean to me.

Being the life of the party…

never

                                          …is like leading one big…

…fun army.

The duo that shoots shots together…

Wild Turkey

Image 11

Stays together.

…stays together.

It’s important to share…

at the

…even while pigging out at the Iowa State Fair.

It’s OK to relax…

after

…after a day has been crap.

You’ve carried me through physical hard times…

broken foot

         

broken ankle

…even if sometimes it was from too much self-inflicted wine.

Tipping my Skinny Pirates when my nails are drying…

treat

                         

…because you know there’s a silver lining.

Most importantly, not all heroes wear capes…

Not all

…just dads who pick us up no matter our proverbial scrapes. 

So let us all raise our glasses today…

cheers!

…and cheers your birthday away!

Those are just a few of my lessons from…

happy

 The Man. The Myth. The Legend.

Happy Birthday Dada!

Join the twins in a sing-a-long to Coo Coo…

(of course we do not have normal monikers such as Grandpa in my classy family)

We love you.

CBXB

CBXB!

The Man, The Myth, The Birthday Legend

Oh dads.

If you are lucky enough to have one or have had one in your life, then you win. A familiar fixture on this blog and in my life, my dad celebrates his day of birth (along with his twin!) today. Aunt Crazy Pants once doled out advice that I didn’t think much of at the time when I was younger. She said (during some stupid crazy boy drama, no doubt) “No man will ever love you the way your dad loves you.”

This didn’t really dawn on me until I was an “adult” (a term I use for myself extremely loosely these days) and a dude I was living with said to me, “I can’t treat you like your dad treats you.”

BOY BYE.

I guess I never had to think about it because of the jackpot I scored when my dad chose to be mine. A knight in shining (well, in his case probably rusty) armour. A frugal on the allowance guy whose driving abilities were always affected by how loudly the radio was playing in unknown territory (TURN DOWN Q.102 GIRLS WE’RE IN DES MOINES!). A dad who commuted four hours daily to work but rarely missed an extra curricular activity. A dude who could scare boyfriends shitless with his size but is actually a giant, goofy Teddy Bear.

A father who not only duct taped my glasses together in the third grade (hence the short-lived nickname “Ducky”) but also uses the same magic to keep my bumper adhered to your car as an “adult”.

A dad who tells you to “tough it up” when you’re sitting in the superintendent’s office, holding a bloody chin after being hit in the face with a baseball bat during PE but remains strong and silent decades later when he’s driving you to the hospital after being raped.

So yeah, Aunt Crazy Pants and her advice rings true – best of luck to a dude ever living up to The Man, The Myth, My Legend.

As we celebrate the Big Fella today, please join me as I share some of the valuable…

LESSONS FROM MY LEGEND


Image 90

You should always have your family’s back…

bl

       … even if they often attack.

Throw your hands up in the air…

wave

…and wave them like I just don’t care.

Even if you’re a dork inside…

...without my shades.

                                              

…it’s no matter if you’re cool on the outside.

The art of muscle blowing is unique.

blow

                       Passed down to generations…

and

                                              … and generations …

still

…to upkeep.

Pink isn’t just for girls…

flex

…guys often put the color on for a whirl.

Sequins should be in my everyday attire…

love

     … as you gave me the first bedazzled top I ever acquired.

It’s OK to stand out in a crowd…

Dada C-Note

…just be sure to do it loud and proud.

Giving is better than receiving…

Image 91

…except when you let your three year old open your gift to be appeasing. 

The importance of slathering on sunscreen daily…

very

                      …just be sure to not get too crazy.

The significance of jazz hands…

was

…often help when making demands.

It’s not a road trip…

check

…unless you have rot gut vodka and your finger to mix.

Reminding me there’s more than one fish in the sea…

fish

                …especially whenever a boy has been mean to me.

Being the life of the party…

never

                                          …is like leading one big…

                                                            …fun army.

The duo that shoots shots together…

Wild Turkey

Image 11

Stays together.

…stays together.

It’s important to share…

at the

                 …even while pigging out at the Iowa State Fair.

It’s OK to relax…

after

…after a day has been crap.

You’ve carried me through physical hard times…

broken foot

         

broken ankle

…even if sometimes it was from too much self-inflicted wine.

Tipping my Skinny Pirates when my nails are drying…

treat

                         

…because you know there’s a silver lining.

Most importantly, not all heroes wear capes…

Not all

…just dads who pick us up no matter our proverbial scrapes. 

So let us all raise our glasses today…

cheers!

…and cheers your birthday away!

Those are just a few of my lessons from…

happy

 The Man. The Myth. The Legend.

Happy Birthday Dada!

CBXB

CBXB!

My Pussy, the Bitch

Teddy Bear can really be a little bitch sometimes.

Missing man.

Worse than a junior high school girl hitting puberty.

And now that Ted has a partner in crime – New Cat – they can be such little bitches together.

Two times the trouble.

Two times the trouble.

The past few weeks, I might as well be getting up to nurse a fucking newborn because Mr. Bear starts meowing (in which he sounds like a tiny sheep) around 3am.

Then he comes in a little closer to the bed at 3:04 am.

A little louder and just out of arm’s reach at 3:07am.

I put the pillow over my head, turn my sound machine up and all of a sudden my little sheep cat is roaring his head off like a lion.

Fierce.

Fierce.

Then, because he idolizes his big bro, NC starts chiming in and together they sound like a jacked up version of a church choir.

And then bitches about it.

NOT pitch perfect.

When Tedstar first started doing this, I’d get my ass up to coax him back to bed but he wanted to play chase. Such fun every night at 3:13am.  I would go to pick him up and he’d run (for what seemed like his life – I might as well have been threatening to de-claw him with pliers) under the kitchen table. As soon as I’d crouch down by the table, he’d race into the bathroom behind the toilet, and so on…therefore, I started to ignore him.  Because he’s really just seeing if I will get up and give into him, right?

I never ever ever ever ever give in to this face. Ever.

I never ever, ever, ever, ever give in to this face.
Ever.

Well, this bitch means business. So much so, I was considering how to reupholster a section of my vintage sofa that used to belong to my Gma.  As I was getting my beauty sleep amid the white noise of my sound machine (on the highest volume setting) TB was up to no good (with assistance by Mr. Tuxedo, I’m sure).

Teddy Krueger’s version of a temper tantrum.

Of course I couldn’t find the little shits when I discovered this treasure and racked my brain contemplating how to patch this corner (the front, exposed so everyone can see it corner, naturally).  And I came up with a solution that fit right in with my eclectic, budget conscious household. Duct tape.

Leopard duct tape.

Growing up, I my dad taught me that duct tape can fix anything (even your big, fat glasses in 3rd grade. You simply put the duct tape over the piece that snapped off, which in my case was right in the middle, where the glasses sit on one’s nose and pretend as if nothing is wrong. Which is why much to my delight, I was nicknamed Ducky. Kids are so sweet).

Hello Gorgeous

Pre-Ducky break.

In my current case, applying my father’s knowledge, I found leopard duct tape and ‘reupholstered’ the corner of my couch.

Cheapest (and probably cheapest looking) DIY job ever! But it does the trick.

The $4 duct tape fix. Dad’s practical solution!

In reality, Teddy was just trying to help me spruce up my space a tad. Because once he got his claw stuck in the duct tape, he never set his sights on my couch again.

Oh, and those 3am wake up cries? Seems the cats were needing food, as I was forgetting to feed them before bed (guess this would be why I don’t have kids).

So now, I feed the damn pussies at night and all of my furniture has remained in tact.

For now.

CBXB

CBXB!

Weekend Winks – Football ‘n’ Flu

Funny how one minute we can be knocking back shots and the next be laid flat-out on the bathroom floor.

Shots

From this….

2.5 seconds flat. Not the four seasons but it will do.

…to this in 2.5 seconds flat.

It all started on a happy note Saturday.

With my Iowa Hawkeyes off on a bye week, I was headed to a tailgate for the Ole Miss vs. Alabama game. The hostess, Lady, is a Mississippi chick through and through and requested that I cheer on her team. But come to find out, I don’t own any navy (the horror reversecommuter!) so I concocted my own anti-Alabama attire with the help of some duct tape (which I’m sure assisted Ole Miss with their victory).

Tailgate attire

Classy dressing at its finest.

Ole Miss Baby

Lady and the duct taped Tramp.

As all of my friends are crazy about procreating, the tailgate was toddler friendly with much of the halftime show featuring free-flowing tears.

Tailgating with toddlers

Who needs a marching band when you have this for entertainment?

Feeling left out (and guilty) because I left my two-year-old feline at home (anybody know where I can get a cat papoose?), I scooped up a kid to feel included.

Even rented a baby.

Rent-a-baby looks natural on me, yes?

But all of the fun and games came to a crashing halt with the sudden regurgitation of everything I’d consumed over the weekend. First thinking it was food poisoning but quickly resigning to the fact that it was the stomach flu as I camped out on the bathroom floor overnight to alleviate my body from over exerting itself in the mad dash from my bed the toilet every 45 minutes.

Not the four seasons but it will do.

Not the Four Seasons but it will do.

In the wee hours of Sunday morning, I texted my buddy Camo to see if he had any anti-nausea medicine he could drop off the following day. Not only did he have quick dissolving tablets to trick my body into absorption (instead of the expulsion it was doing to everything else I tried), he delivered it at 4am along with some hydrating fluids.

Knight in shining Camo.

Knight in shining Camo.

Unable to watch TV due to pulsating eyelids, I kept up on highlights of a family wedding I was missing out on in Iowa.

Wedding shenanigns and photo bombs.

Wedding shenanigans and photo bombs.

When it came time to the caretaking, I’m sure you all know who was the first in line for snuggle duty.

Ted cold shouldering New Cat out of nursing duties.

Mr. Bear cold shouldering New Cat out of nursing responsibilities.

Even with all of the cat cuddles, my stomach still hated my guts. But my gal pal G (the one who fights 80-year-olds) left a sweet surprise outside of my door after she picked up a prescription for me.

My friends kick ass.

My friends kick ass.

And while still on the mend, I’m pretty sure my most demanding pussy will insist I stay home sick every day.

Hoarder.

Mother lover.

Here’s hoping your week has been and remains healthier than mine!

CBXB

CBXB!