Monday, April 29, 2013

Dear Sad Daughter in the Future

I was going to title this one A Letter to My Daughter Within a Letter to my Daughter Apologizing for My Not Understanding Her in the Future, but that was way too long and reminded me of the movie Inception, which, as good of a movie as that was, wasn't how I wanted to start this post off. So instead, I'm wasting time with a paragraph about it, because I have a hard time throwing things away. I'm a word hoarder. I have a problem. Anyway, on with the show...

Dear Duchess,

I had a ridiculous moment in the car on the way home from work on Friday. The Freshmen by The Verve Pipe was on the radio.

If you're not familiar with the song The Freshmen, and since you weren't a teenager in the 90's there's a good chance you're not, it is an overwrought ballady barf of a song about some teenagers who didn't take some advice and then one of them dies, or something, and at some point in a made up future the singer is wailing about how innocent they were, and how it wasn't their fault because they were MERELY FRESHMEN!!! HEYEEEEEAAAHEEEAAEEEAAAEAAEAAEAOOOOOHHHEEEAAEAAEAHH!!!

We all had this haircut in the 90's, and none of us smiled.

Anyway, I love that song. I love it because it takes me back to a very specific point in my life, where I too was innocent and nothing was my fault and things happened that seemed much more important than anyone besides me thought they were, and I couldn't control them, and that really upset me because we WERE MERELY FRESHMEN!!! HEEEYYAHEAAEAEAAEAAEAOOHHEEAAEAEAAEAAEAAAH!!!

So there I am, singing along to this wonderfully awful song, and the strangest thing happened. I thought of you and started tearing up a little in the car. Not two-year-old you, fifteen year old you.

Why? Well, I started getting teary-eyed because I realized at some point during the second chorus that I had almost completely forgotten how incredibly hard it was to be a teenager.

The stress and anxiety of those years hadn't touched my thoughts years. I am forgetting. And while some magical combination of perspective and senility has probably afforded me this wonderful gift, which I can only describe as "content happiness", it is tinged with sadness by the fact that by the time you reach your teenage years, I will have probably completely forgotten what being a teenager really felt like.

So before that part of me fades away completely, I join the Republican party and spend the rest of my days talking about how good, kind, and respectful everyone was when I was younger, please allow me a few minutes to let you know that I, too, was once where you are, and I ,too, was lonely. Then I'll tuck this letter away in the blog and someday you can pull it up on your iPillow and read it just before you cry yourself to sleep because you're sad about some incredibly important thing that future-me will not think is important in the slightest. So here you go – a letter from your dad while he still barely remembered what it was like to be a teenager.


Dear Duchess, (I call you Duchess on the blog because in 2013 we have this illusion we call privacy),

You know that thing that is going on that you think is the most important thing to happen in the history of you… or even of the world? You know, the one that has your stomach all balled up and tears leaking out from your eyes every time you tilt your head the wrong way? It's that problem that has everyone telling you that they know how you feel because they've experienced some bastardized form of said problem, and if you just give it some time everything will feel better and you'll look back on it and laugh. I need you to know something. It is the most important thing in the world, and knowing that someday you may or may not care about it isn't going to make you feel any better. Perspective is only valuable once you have it, and right about now your perspective is telling you "f*ck perspective". I'm on board with that. Because whether something is the end of the world, or it just feels like the end of the world, it still FEELS LIKE THE END OF THE WORLD!

Here's the hard part for me, not only can I not fix that thing that is eating you up inside – I'm probably too old and detached from what you're going through to even understand it. Old me is going to look at you, and tell you I love you, and you're going to scream at me that your life is over and that I will never understand, and you're right about at least half of that. I probably won't ever understand you. But I did once. I promise.

I parked my car in an alley once and screamed at the top of my lungs while repeatedly slamming my fists into the steering wheel. I sat, balled up, on the floor of my shower one time and cried until the water was ice cold. I wrote poems for girls. I dreamt of being liked and being popular and getting the part in the musical or the position on the football team. I longed for those I couldn't have and lost those who I did. I went through long patches of my life where I felt immensely lonely. And every time, I didn't know if it was the end of the world or if it just felt like it – and I didn't care. And it was only made worse by the fact that my awesome and loving parents just didn't get it. And now I'm the parent who doesn't get it. So I'm sorry.

I'm sorry that future me doesn't understand. 2013 me does. Maybe in the future you'll be able to upload a hologram of 2013 me and tell me about how much of a douche bag I've become. I'll compliment you on your laser hair and you'll complain about how future me hates that it cost $4,500 dollars. Then I'll go to give you a hug, and you'll go to hug me back and you'll fall on the floor because I'm a hologram. We'll laugh a little and that will make hologram-me happy, or at least appear happy since I most likely won't have emotions - because I'm a hologram. Then you'll say good night, turn hologram me off, and switch your iPillow to the classic rock station where, I hope to god, The Freshman by The Verve Pipe is playing. Because, while future me may not understand what you're going through, The Verve Pipe always will.

I love you honey,

Still Kind-of Cool Dad from 2013


Wednesday, April 24, 2013

How to Get What You Want From Customer Service

This is completely unrelated to parenting, but I wrote it this weekend and thought it might be helpful to share. Then,  I was going to make this one of those list articles where you have to click "next" at the bottom of every number, but I remembered that I hate those things and I'm not an a-hole. So instead, you get a super long scrolling article full of tips and tricks for getting what you want from customer service agents. And... uhm... less time on the phone arguing with customer service means more quality time you can spend with the kiddos. So there, it is about parenting. Huzzah!

Friday, April 19, 2013

By Trying to Get It Half Right, the BSA Gets It All Wrong

"Well, at least they're trying right?" That's what my wife said to me as I fumed back and forth in the kitchen after reading the BSA's proposal to allow LGBT youth in their organization, but to continue the ban on LGBT people in their leadership.

No. It's not enough. It is a half measure that is cruel and offensive to LGBT adults who would like to be an active part of their kids' lives. It is an open acknowledgement that the BSA thinks there is something inherently dangerous about LGBT adults. And if it isn't their sexual orientation, which would no longer be banned under the proposal–what else could it be but the long disproved and debunked assumption that homosexuals are predispositioned to molest children.

Sunday, April 14, 2013

McDonald's Post Update!

I felt super bad about running out of McDonald's the other night after "the incident" (see McDonald's blog from earlier). On top of that, a few people wrote to me and rightfully pointed out that leaving the McDonald's was not cool. Not only was it rude to make the McDonald's person clean it up, but it was a health hazard. I agree. I was not my best self. I panicked. I should have gone to the counter, asked for a rag and gone pee hunting. 

Thursday, April 11, 2013

Why We Can Never Go Back to McDonald's

Sometimes I worry about putting embarrassing stories about my kids on the internet. That's part of the reason I use pseudonyms. I don't want Captain's High School buddies to Google his name some day and find out that I surveyed the internet on whether or not to circumcise him. With that reasoning in mind, I am going to come right out and say that the story I am about to tell you definitely, absolutely, did not happen. I am making it all up. This definitely did not happen last night at the McDonald's by our house. 

Monday, April 8, 2013

After 5 Hours At the Zoo

After five hours at the zoo, Duchess was ready to leave. So I took another picture. 

Monday, April 1, 2013

Adventures With Cloth Diapers

Hi readers! Here's a post from Stevie. We got a present in the mail a few weeks ago from our friends at gDiapers. This is not a paid promotion and the opinions are ours. There was no pressure to even write the review. We could have just kept them. Heck, I probably could have written 1000 words about how much we hated cloth diapers, then posted a video of us burning them while dancing around the gDiaper fire in a circle, chanting something about how much we dislike their diapers- and the marketing people at gDiapers would probably be super nice. Good thing we FREAKING LOVE THEM. Anyway... on with the Stevie!

Dad (John)