on Saturday June 14, 2008

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Tiger Woods, I am convinced, is either one of three things A) an alien from outer space, B) the Devil, or C) the single most talented athlete the world has ever seen.  It is stupid how this guy rolls.  Did anyone see the third round coverage of the US Open?  Tiger was obviously laboring through the round as he continues to recover from a recent knee surgery and somehow this guy turns in a miraculous birdie on 17 and a stupid/crazy/amazing eagle on 18.  If you don't know anything about golf...trust me, this guy is on another planet.  He has the 54 hole lead at the Open and he clearly playing on one good leg.  Check the video if you don't believe me. 

Joeprah Says... User Comments (4) Favorite This Post (37)

on Saturday June 14, 2008

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Is this what society is saying to dads across America?  The answer seems to be a resounding yes.  If you have been shopping for a Father’s Day card for your husband/father/father-in-law you may have had to sift through the less than flattering clichés cards that portray dads in a none too favorable light.  Moms have to deal with cliché cards too, but theirs aren’t based on them being horrible people.  According to the cards, moms cook, clean, have rollers in their hair, juggle many things at once, and eat chocolate.  Dads on the other hand are very different.  According to the greeting cards I surveyed this year, dads are poor caregivers, drink in excess, constantly golf and or fish, pass gas constantly, grill food 24/7, seldom leave the cozy confines of their couch except to spend hours in the bathroom, and if they ever get lost on the way to the bathroom they never ever ask for directions. 

It’s like my mother-in-law in her generalization of me as a “big time fishermen.”  I have literally went fishing a handful of times in the sixteen years we have known each other but somehow that gets me a fishing trinket from her on days such as Father’s Day.  Using that logic I should really be getting gangster-rap T-shirts because I probably have actually listened to and liked six rap songs in that same time frame—which would decisively trump fishing as my bigger hobby. 

This whole “dads can’t do anything right” label is played.  It’s like domestic Swiss cheese—it just doesn’t make sense.  Enough’s enough already.  I know a lot of dads.  Of all the dads I have ever known in my life, I can’t think of more than like three that deserve some of these cliché cards.  One guy is divorced, another is in jail (but still not a bad guy), and another is a larger man that just has issues controlling his gas.  Does this make us all monsters?  Trust me; I like a good fart joke as much as the next guy and I think bodily functions are enthralling and comical on many levels.  I just don’t endorse the idea of buying a card, which is supposed to celebrate your father, which shows a lady with a gas mask on the front. 

I want some pregnancy cards to be released that say things like, “Congratulations You Smelly Cow,” or “Hemorrhoids are Nasty and So is Your Pregnant Gas.”   Pregnant ladies let gas pass like they are in some sick contest, well at least the ones I have met.  They are burping, farting, food devourers that mostly fall asleep, with their pants unzipped, in front of the TV.  Give a pregnant woman a beer and a roll of duct tape and there is your Father’s Day cliché.  Alas, according to Carlton Cards, she will at least ask for directions on her way to the ER.   

If you don’t trust me, I took a video camera with me into a local Target and Hallmark store to see what was out there.  The Hallmark store scored well in my opinion, where as the Target failed.  They had the fart cards, the lazy TV watching beer drinker cards, and the plethora of golfing cards.  Roll the tape!

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on Friday June 13, 2008

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Continued from:

Confessions of a Stay-at-Home Dad: Part I

Confessions of a Stay-at-Home Dad: Part II 

Confessions of a Stay-at-Home Dad: Part III 

Confessions of a Stay-at-Home Dad: Part IV

My first two years as a stay at home parent were eye-openers.  Although we were careful with Bella, I still had to run errands, buy groceries and other necessities, and take her to all her doctor appointments by myself.  With each stop at the store and each trip to the doctors, I became more and more confident and empowered as a dad.  By the time Bella was almost a year, I had joined a weekly neighborhood gathering of ladies and their kids in what was called the “Bagel Club.”  I thought the “Bagel Club” would be a playgroup where parents could watch their children play with other kids, all while socializing with other parental units.  Wrong.  I found that the Bagel Club was a forum for women to engage in gossip, gripe about their husbands, and inevitably talk about their pregnancies.  I often found myself a bystander in women-centric conversations centered around Oprah's celebrity interviews, which men in our neighborhood were hot, and moms’ self-deprecating remarks about their bodies.  I found myself more-or-less hanging out with the kids, instead of trying to sit in on mind-numbingly disturbing and foreign conversation. 

I was eventually convinced by the ladies in my neighborhood to run a community playgroup at a converted and recently-retired elementary school.  I was in charge of pulling out tumble mats and setting up toddler toys in a gymnasium.  After about two hours of play/droolfest, I had to sanitize the toys and put them away again.  I did all this with Bella at my side.  I really didn’t want to run the community playgroup, which was home to over 70 families, one day a week for two hours, but I had reasons for doing it.  I, of course, wanted Bella to be able to meet and play with as many kids as possible.  I also had another goal.  The goal in running the playgroup was to win favor with the ladies in my neighborhood so that they would eventually include me in their conversations.  No dice.  I was still an outsider looking in on a segment of society which was both new to me and increasingly annoying. 

It’s strange as a stay-at-home parent and what you remember, but one of the most vivid memories I have with my time alone with Bella was September 11^th, 2001.  I was in mine and Jodi’s bedroom sitting on the floor, watching Bob the Builder with Bella, when I heard the phone ring.  It was Jodi.  She asked if I had "heard what was happening.”  Nickelodeon doesn’t have newsbreaks, so all I knew was that Lofty had better get her act together.  She told me to put on the news and that there were planes flying into buildings.  She said some people were saying that we were under attack.  I put on the news and was unraveled.  I remember crying when the first tower came down.  That day still seems like a dream that I will never forget.  Bella was so beautiful and angelic in the midst of all the destruction and death.  The future never seemed so uncertain than it did then.  

Our lives were so busy then.  I was working in the evenings and weekends, bartending, just to make ends meet.  I started “chasing the money,” trying to make my time away from the family worth it so-to-speak.  Each bartending job eventually paid like the one previous (or worse), except that they were further and further from home.  I quit bartending for good in January of 2002.  I took a job at a local wine super store as a wine salesman.  From my years in the restaurant industry, I had built up quite an acumen and affinity when it came to wine.  The store was a two-minute drive up the road, and the work was more than tolerable.  I thrived in the laid-back atmosphere of retail.  The people and product all appealed to me, and although I only worked around twenty hours a week, it was great therapy.  

At this time I also took on the responsibility of watching another child twice a week.  I had started my own daycare service without even trying.  One of my wife’s co-workers had a four-year-old boy who was currently staying with his grandmother weekdays, when the dad worked.  The father was a single parent.  He wanted some diversity in his boy's childcare and the dad knew me through my wife and a basketball league we played in together, so he got a good sense of my character and asked if I would be interested in watching his son a couple days a week. 

As Bella turned two, I would take her on bike rides (I had attached a seat on the back of my bike for her), and we would go to a park about fifteen minutes up the road and do some fishing and throw rocks in the water.  Now, we had another person to do all those things with.  It was great.  The boy already knew how to ride a bike and in the alley and back road dominated row home community we lived in we would take a couple of rides a day.  We did breakfast and lunch together and I worked with him occasionally on some preschool books as he prepared for Kindergarten. 

I believe there is a reason for everything and I know that opportunity was given to me to help me prepare for the huge change that was coming my way in the form of baby #2.  As Jodi’s due date neared, I had to decline watching the boy in the summer, but I remember those days together, and I am still thankful for being respected enough as a parent to be given the chance to watch someone else’s child.  Watching another kid part-time, truthfully, was also wearing me out.  At this point I ran the community playgroup, worked at the wine store part-time, and ran a daycare twice a week.  I also kept hearing stories about how making the jump from one to two kids was shockingly difficult.  People said it was an exponential jump in work and responsibility. By this time it was late May and Jodi had about a month to go, but you can never predict that a baby will come early.

Mady was delivered the second week of June, healthy but small. 

Stay Tuned for the Next Installment

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Joeprah Says... User Comments (8) Favorite This Post (34)

on Thursday June 12, 2008

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 If you get a minute, click the photo to rate it  (10s are good).  I am in a monthly photo contest and the winner receives $500.  Thanks!

Joeprah Says... User Comments (6) Favorite This Post (35)

on Thursday June 12, 2008

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Have you ever wanted to add some extra style points to your blog and just don't know the first thing about it?  I have comprised an easy to swallow tutorial for those who use Blogger, Word Press and Joomla! so that they may be able to add "Drop Caps" to their blogs.  Why?  Because drop caps in all their various forms are cool.  It's a fact.  Drop caps are the over-sized-magazine-style letters that you see in print media and online media alike.  It can take a bland post and turn it into a thing of beauty--well, maybe just a little nicer. 

The Tutorial

Whether you use Word Press, Blogger, Joomla! or some other format for your blog you can easily install your own “Drop Cap” effect into any post you like by using the following CSS code.  CSS code (Cascading Style Sheet) can be manipulated in many different ways and the “Drop Cap” effect is merely one extension of this. 

Here is the CSS code you will need for "Drop Caps":

.dropcap {
         float: left;
         padding: 3px 3px 0 0;
         display: block;
         color: #b4b4b4;
         font: 50px/37px Georgia, Times, serif;
 }

  If you have a Blogger blog here is what you need to do to insert the code.

1. Go the "Dashboard" of your blog
2. Click "Layout"
3. Click "Edit HTML"
4. Before the tag  ]]></b:skin>  Insert the "Drop Cap" Code above
5. Save the Changes
6. Go to "Settings" tab
7. Go to "Formatting" tab
8. In "Post Template" at the bottom add the following code