Pancakes for Dinner
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About the Author: Suburban Dad has been married for 17 years to Suburban Mom. Together, they have been blessed with 2 children (Suburban Princess and Suburban Boy) and a dog. Residing in the northern suburbs of New York, Suburban Dad owns a house with a fence, some Suburban Dad toys which include a lawn mower, a chain saw a color TV and, though not particularly handy, a toolbox. He drives a car and, yes, a minivan. SD currently works from his home office (dining room table) in suburbia which enables him to squeeze in a sales career between coaching little league, doing the laundry and sometimes cooking dinner. Syrup or whipped cream on those pancakes?
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What I Did on My Summer Vacation: Part 1 (HPN to MCO)
It's hard to believe how fast the summer has gone or how busy it's
been. In fact, it's been sooo busy I can't believe we're still alive.
But what is summer without the usual ritual of a vacation? What would
we talk about and compare? What would we plan? What would we take
pictures of? What would the kids write about when they went back to
school? Normally, Suburban Dad's idea of a vacation equates to the
family driving 6 hours to visit my in-laws up in Buffalo, while I stay
back with Suburban Dog, drinking beer and watching sporting events. But
every summer, mainly because of the aforementioned questions, SD will
cave and join the multitudes on the vacation trail.
Truth be told, this summer really has been crazy. So crazy, in fact,
that even I was looking forward to getting away for a while.We have a
set vacation we've been doing for years, but this trip, we chose to do
something a little different. Since I live by the mantra that "change
is good-when you don't have any other option", I was up for a different
summer experience; one filled with fun and excitement; one that would
take us to new and unchartered lands.Overall, the trip was great and
I've actually learned a few things while going through the process.
Since Suburban Dad is all about helping people, I took it upon myself
to take some notes and put together a list of "travel tips"
to pass along. So, fasten your seatbelts and return your trays to their
upright positions. Power down all electronic devises (except this
computer), secure your carry ons and get ready for My Summer Vacation.
Like most Suburban families, Suburban Wife is the social director:she
does the research, makes the plans, and books the reservations. I just
agree with everything SW says then I tag along trying my best to
initiate embarrassment during the trip. You think I'm kidding? My
primary job duties during the pre-trip planning (and this is in writing
on Suburban Wife's vacation "Remember To-Do" list hanging on the
refrigerator) is to pack my stuff and make sure we have a cork screw.
Traditionally, we've been making the trek in the good old minivan down to Ocean City but, (Travel Tip #1)
with things so down in the airline and travel industry these days,
Suburban Wife was able to do some research online and book us a week in
Florida at Universal Park and The Hard Rock Hotel for about the same
price as a week in Maryland-airfare and rental car included. At least,
that's what I was told. I'll let you know when the Master Card bill
comes.
We flew out of Westchester Airport (Travel Tip #2).When
I told friends we were flying out of Westchester, all they could say
was GREAT DECISION.And, they were right. In fact, if you're booking a
winter vacation to Disney Land and the only flight available out of
Westchester Airport that day was a flight to Detroit, I would strongly
recommend that you amend your final vacation destination to the Great
Lake State. Just tell the wife and kids that you've heard Kalamazoo is
beautiful in January and you're dying to see it in full bloom.
I had no problem whatsoever sponging a ride to HPN.For those of you not
as travel-savy as Suburban Dad, HPN is the fancy 3 letter abbreviation
for Westchester County Airport used by the airlines to tag your luggage
and give it at least a 50/50 chance that it makes it onto and off of
the plan with you. LGA is LaGuardiA, EWR is NEWaRk.(I believe HPN
actually stands for WHite PlaiNs.The P and the N is for PlaNes and the
H is for, "Holy Crud, I can't believe how much easier it is to fly out
of White Planes".)
Suburban Grandpa dropped us off right at the entrance to the building.
I picked a beautiful flower and handed it to Suburban Wife, met a
security guard, then we went off to start our adventure (Travel Tip
#3-flowers are not for picking at HPN). At HPN, Ticketing, Baggage
Check-in and the Security Screening area combined is about the size of
the produce aisle in Shop Rite.The terminal is so small that there's
not enough room for everyone actually scheduled to fly out to be in the
sitting area.Passengers must wait for their flight to be posted on the
TV monitor before they will allow you to go through security and
proceed to the gate.
While going through airport security these days, remember, you?ll need
to be able to remove your shoes for checking, then get them back on
quickly so (Travel Tip #4), it is recommended you wear slip ons, or go "hip-hop" like Suburban Boy and just never tie your kicks.(Travel Tip #5)
If you are traveling with a young, Suburban Boy, it is a good idea for
him to wear his NEW sneakers and not the old disgusting ones that he
went swimming in last month, then hid in the hamper for a week.You
know, the ones that still stink to high heaven even though they've been
through the wash now 3 times?
One other little airline travel tip and this will save you money.The
airlines have dropped their ticket prices but are making up revenue by
charging you to check your luggage.(Travel Tip #6)Go
on-line to get your seat assignment and pay for your luggage the night
before.This will save you about $10 per bag and also give you a better
seat selection. Also, keep your "check in" bag under 50 lbs or the cost
goes up dramatically.
If you want to really make a killing; while the airlines seem to be
charging you to check your bags, they still allow you a "small carry on
per passenger" for free.Now, when I was flying more frequently and
checking luggage was free, there were pretty strict size limits on the
carry ons.These restrictions seem to be severely relaxed these days so
my advice to you is to pack a little extra in that carry on. Or, if
you're a gambler, (Travel Tip #7) say
"to hell with the check in" and just carry everything on. Honestly, I
could not believe the size of some of these free "carry ons" people
were allowed to have with them. I even swear, and it could be the 2 or
3 tequilas I had before boarding but, I swear I even saw one that bore
a strong resemblance to a grandmother as the family very discretely
rushed to cram it into the old overhead. Personally, I would have
checked her. I mean, what's the worst that could happen? So she ends up
in Cleveland for the night?
The flight took off on time and the kids were quiet and entertained
throughout most of it, partially thanks to the free satellite radio
offered on board. Just (Travel Tip
#8) bring your iPod buds in your "carry on" because the airlines were
out of headsets but the connection is the same as any you would use at
home. Thankfully, the cabin did not lose pressure and we did not have
to worry about on board day care or (Travel Tip #9)
taking care of ourselves before assisting the kids. In fact, the flight
went like a dream.Us and our luggage actually landed early in MCO
(Orlando, Florida-I have no idea where they get MC from). One call and
we were quickly whisked out to the rent-a-car building. Let the games
begin!
...to be continued.
Posted on Friday, September 25, 2009 @ 11:23 AM | 0 replies Start the Discussion |
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Finding Your Happy Place
Yeah, it's summer-the travel season!
Should you be starting your vacation in flight, probably the
scariest thing that could ever happen to you, aside from the stewardess
informing you that they just served the last ounce of alcohol and your choice
of beverage is now limited to half a can of warm cola or a cup of airline brand
coffee with non dairy creamer, would be for the cabin to lose pressure thus
causing those oxygen masks to drop down in front of you.Under these circumstances, we, as parents,
would probably be inclined to immediately get one of those suckers over our
child's face, then we would move on to masking ourselves-which professionals
say would absolutely be the wrong decision. In fact, in all of the pre-flight instructions I've ever sat through
patiently waiting for the in-flight attendant to bring me my vodka/tonic, they
have always in no uncertain terms, ordered us to take care of ourselves BEFORE
assisting our child. Travel gurus who
have racked up tons of frequent flyer mileage confirm my account to be true. But why?
This rule is in place for a very good reason, and it has
nothing to do with circumventing the almost certain shortage of day care that
would be available on the air plane should all of the parents expire in mid
flight and all of the children survive the tragedy.The rule is in place because we, as parents,
are much better suited to take care of our children AFTER we have first taken
care of ourselves; true in life as well as airplanes. But how do we do this? How do we take care of ourselves in everyday
life so that we are in the best state of mind to raise our kids? There are daily vitamins (Yuck and I'd forget).You could eat right (But then define right).Exercise regularly (Do I even need to
comment?). All very questionable and
complicated answers.The simple
solution is this:you need to find your Happy Place.
Now, by Happy Place,
I'm not talking about the power tool aisle at Home Depot, or bed on a rainy morning,
or even a secluded beach with margaritas and a swim suit model, I mean, Suburban
Wife.(Those are Happy Places reserved
for another day.)The Happy Place I'm talking about here is a
state of mind-a state of peacefulness, serenity, relaxation and positiveness. But how do you get there? How can we slow things down and remove
ourselves from the craziness so that we can easily find our Happy Place-putting ourselves in the
best mindset to patiently work with our children and help guide them through
their challenges? There's a different
answer for everybody and Suburban Dad found his answer just this past week.
The other day I had the privilege of meeting a fascinating
woman who taught me a way to relax my mind and cleanse it from stressful
thoughts-thoughts that fill a parent's head with negative energy, thus
increasing the day's stress level.She's
a mother, now grandmother, who has been involved with children and education at
many levels for a very long time.She is
also a cancer survivor and was widowed about 6 years ago.Simply put, she's been through the
ropes."Been there, done that", she
says. Through it all, she found solitude
and peace with everything she was encountering through her appreciation and
talent for art. Predominately water
colors and poetry. She even started a
blog as a way of sharing this great gift she had discovered within
herself. The blog is not a narrative of
her day or reflections of all the things gone right or wrong in the world,
rather, it's an escape- a digital collection of solitude and tranquility which
she loses herself in regularly.Writing
her blog, along with her other artistic projects, is the way she finds her Happy Place.This woman not only gifted me with a place to
visit each morning to get my day off on a relaxing, positive note, but she also
provided me with the idea of utilizing the arts, as a way of putting me in my own
Happy Place so that I can escape the
craziness and frustrations that bog me down and stress me out on a regular basis. How spiritual, I thought. How feng shui.But what medium should I use?
Well, I have always fancied myself a bit of a wordsmith, and
I always rocked when Suburban Princess was bringing home her rhyming exercises
in school.So poetry seemed like a
natural.Yes, poetry would be my escape- my
natural therapy; a way of expressing my thoughts and feelings and a way of
allowing myself to find my own Happy
Place so that I might go about my day in an energized, refreshed and
positive state of mind. Now, for you
non-creatives reading, we artists work best when focusing on the things we are
most passionate about so I figured I would start by reflecting on what means
the most to me: my suburban children.Happy
Place here I come. Read. Relax. Enjoy?..
Suburban
Boy
By Suburban Dad
I entered his bedroom and what do I see
Our picture from when his world revolved
around me
Memories storm back, my eyes start to well
All I can think is my God, what the heck is
that smell?
It seems like it's coming from under the bed
I move the end table, things fall on my head
Dirty boxer shorts, crunchy socks
Matchbox cars, old building blocks?
What WAS this?A donut, all fuzzy and green
Something else, the likes of which I've
never seen
My iPod buds?My face uncontrollably contorts
Half a bottle of Coke, last year's basket ball shorts?
A rubber band ball, a computer cord
Overdue library book, an old Halloween gourd
Fifteen stuffed animals, my adjustable
wrench
All under the bed, but, still, no cause for
that stench.
Something stinks I mumble getting up off the
floor
As I look to the left towards the closed closet
door.
Then I turn to the right focusing on his
hamper
I dig through the darkness, clothes getting
damper.
Finally, pew, stink, something is most unkind
I've located the source, though now
practically blind.
On the bottom, wet shorts and sneakers from
last week's secret swim
At a friend's house while wearing his
clothes he jumped in.
Picking up the whole pile, to the laundry
room I go
Screaming and swearing after stubbing my
toe.
Then into the May Tag where one cycle just
won't suffice
So I'm forced to wash everything, not once,
but twice.
Suburban
Princess
By Suburban Dad
I enter her bedroom, AAAAAAAAAAAAHH!!!!!!!
I'm not
entirely sure poetry is the right medium for me to find my Happy Place.I think I'll
try Play-Doh sculpting.
Posted on Tuesday, August 18, 2009 @ 10:21 AM | 1 reply View/Post Feedback |
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The Busy Game
I hate playing The Busy Game. No, it's not a game you play in the
pediatrician's office with your 3-year-old in an attempt to keep the child
distracted while they're waiting to get their shots.The Busy Game is a game grown-ups like to play
at barbeques and other social gatherings when we all get together, supposedly
to enjoy each other's company and to escape the busyness of parenting life.
The Busy Game begins when one person says, "Gosh, we
have been soooo busy", then drones on by itemizing their 'busy list' to other
adults in the circle.Their turn usually
concludes with some over exaggerated closing statement like "Whew, I can't
believe we're still alive." Then, the next person goes, trying their best to
top the previous player's list. The game
usually continues until one player's child inadvertently hits another's with a
Wiffle ball bat or until someone announces a party on their 'busy list' which another
player's child was not invited to-thus changing gears and launching the group
into a new barbeque game called Family Feud. C'mon, admit it, you've played this game
before.
Well, not to begin my own round of The Busy Game but,
gosh, I can't believe how busy this spring has been:two graduations, 2 communions, multiple
birthdays, sports, shows.We have been
soooo busy that Father's day, which, if memory serves me correct, used to be a
national holiday complete with store closings, parades and television specials,
was reduced to nothing more than a hot dog, some hugs and a handshake.Suburban Dad's Father's day weekend had an
aggressive agenda to say the least. But
I guess that's why we became fathers in the first place, right?
It was to begin Saturday with a 9am Suburban Boy
baseball practice, a 12 noon SB baseball game, a 3:30 dance recital staring Suburban
Princess, then a 7pm minor league baseball game in New Jersey where Suburban
Princess and her choral group were scheduled to sing the National Anthem.If the schedule itself was not crazy enough,
rain wreaked havoc on the days? events. So, Saturday went more like this: Got to 9am baseball ON TIME. Practice cancelled-rain.Batting cages at 11am for batting
practice.Got to 12 noon game ON
TIME. Game officially postponed at 12:30
due to showers.Got to 3:30 recital ON
TIME. Start of recital delayed until
4:10 (not sure why).Then, after a
series of mid show texts to our back stage star, pulled her and her friends out
before the finale? and left for the baseball game, so we would make it to New
Jersey ON TIME. Half way down to the
ball park the skies open up again and we got our call.Game and National Anthem performance rained
out.We ended the night in a local
restaurant with 3 other couples who had tied us in this very special Father's
Day edition of The Busy Game. Safely
indoors and finally in one place for a while, the dads proceeded to get sloshed.But this time the soaking had nothing to do
with rain.
The next morning was Father's day, let the
festivities begin: 7:30am hockey game, 9:15
church, 12noon baseball practice.Suburban Wife and Suburban Princess go to mall for Father's Day gifts
then to grocery store for supplies to make salads for the 4:00 Father's day barbeque
at Suburban Brother's place where Suburban Wife, Suburban Mom, Suburban Sister
and Suburban Sister-in-law played a spirited round of, you guessed it.Finally, back home at 9pm.What a Father's day weekend.Whew, I can't believe we're still alive!
Posted on Tuesday, July 07, 2009 @ 10:45 AM | 1 reply View/Post Feedback |
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The Best Man for the Job
Not sure if it made the major papers last week. Probably did not because of the repercussions things like this sometimes bring. But, just as our staggering economy is making a move toward recovery, just as layoffs seem to have slowed, just as my 401k finished the quarter slightly up, BAM!
Lunch Room Boycott Rocks Suburban School
SUBURBAN, NY: A food fight occurred last week in one of our suburban learning institutions leading to the school's knee-jerk reaction of assigned seating in the lunch room for the remainder of the year. Not an acceptable situation to the students so, my Suburban Princess and her friends organized a lunch room boycott where nobody was to buy lunch in the school cafeteria until the issue was amicably resolved. I wouldn't mind the schools reaction if the punishment fit the crime but, to be perfectly honest with you, this was as lamo a food fight as I have ever heard. A total of 1 hamburger and 1 small carton of milk were thrown by a total of 2 students. This wasn't a food fight, it was more like a food disagreement. What's more, if they called, Suburban Dog could have had the whole thing cleaned up in less than 15 seconds. I don't get it. John Belushi must be turning over in his grave.
I have to admire the kids-only 23 lunches were purchased the 1st day of the boycott according to Suburban Princess-twenty three lunches out of 300 and something students. (300 and something students-you gotta love SP's attention to detail.) But you do the math (and you don't have to be in the Gifted and Talented math class to figure this out): 23 lunches at $2.75 each = not enough money to make it worthwile opening the cafeteria. This had the makings of a real disaster. Imagine: pots of uneaten macaroni and cheese going soggy, thousands of chicken nuggets getting cold and hard, hundreds of pounds of lunch meat going bad. The school board had to act and, act quickly, or risk facing the wrath of the PTA (Parent Teacher Association), the NACSLLOA (National Association of the Cranky School Lunch Ladies of America) and maybe even the President of the United States.
Now, I can appreciate the economic strife this may cause and the jobs that are in jeopardy as a direct result of Princess and friend's actions, but the real victim in all of this is Suburban Dad. See, Suburban Mom's job in the morning is to make the breakfasts and Suburban Dad makes the lunches. If the kids buy lunch, SD gets to sleep an extra 15 minutes. THIS ISSUE CLEARLY HAD TO BE RESOLVED and I have all the confidence in the world that it will be. Why? Because, the girls are on it!
You read me right. Sorry dads. It pains me to say this to my fraternity of fathers (and I am not just kissing up) but if you want something done, give it to a woman-even if she's only a school girl. Don't believe me?
Another big event occurred in Suburbia this past week: It was my parent's 50th wedding anniversary. How did I know this? I knew this because my sister told me about it a few months ago, reminded me 4 weeks ago and then re-reminded me last weekend. My brother knew about it because she told him too. Now, for #50, we (Suburban Sister) talked about a few options but my parents really aren't into big fusses. They kept in touch with family and friends they wanted to keep in touch with and were probably not interested in seeing the "Weddings and Funerals" group that you are forced to spend time with whenever someone marries or kicks the bucket. So we (Suburban Sister) figured a party with the people that really mattered would be what the Suburban Parental Units would want. The event would be a surprise at Suburban Sister's house and Suburban Sister assigned the party responsibilities below while carefully taking into account each sibling's strengths and weaknesses:
To-Do list for Surprise Party
Suburban Sister Suburban Dad Suburban Brother
Host Party *Fruit Platter ***Cookies and Pastry
Plan Alibi **Music
Guest List
Invitations
RSVP's
Decorations
Paper Goods
Plan Menu
Find Caterer/Order Food
Pick Out and Order Cake
Beverages
Shop for and buy Gift
Set Up for Party
Clean Up after Party
*Fruit Platter cut and prepared by Suburban Wife.
**Music consisted of Suburban Dad bringing ipod and putting it on shuffle.
***Suburban Brother purchased cookies but forgot the pastry.
In case you missed it the first time: If you want something done, give it to a woman, or better yet, a mom. (And remember, I am not just kissing up.)
How'd the party go? Well, parents were surprised. Merriment ensued. A good time was had by all-thanks for asking. Don't hate me moms, I have since purchased and presented my sister with a gift certificate for dinner in thanks for all of her efforts. I've also assured her that she won't have to lift a finger for the parent's 100th anniversary. Suburban Dad will handle everything for that shin-dig.
Meanwhile, back at the boycott?I'm glad to announce that as of this Monday, the cafeteria crisis has been resolved and things are as they were at Suburban School. Lunch Ladies' jobs are secure, kids are buying lunch and eating with friends of their choice, 401k's went unaffected and Suburban Dad is getting his extra 15 minutes sleep. As for all of you moms who clearly have SD's support and undying admiration, you have 1 more thing to get done. Father's Day is just a few days away. Let the planning and the shopping and the madness begin!
Posted on Friday, June 12, 2009 @ 01:02 PM | 2 replies View/Post Feedback |
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Plan on Being Spontaneous
We plan way too much. We plan meals. We plan our finances. We plan vacations. We plan on attending. We plan on cleaning out the garage and we plan on getting back to you shortly. Research shows that this need to plan can be directly traced all the way back to our ancestors. For instance, my parents were always good planners. We took many vacations when I was growing up. We attended many gatherings. Our garage was always clean. And, even though my dad never made the money my wife and I make, my parents own a very similar suburban house as ours. They also own both of their cars, a condo in Florida, an unbelievable amount of cleaning solutions, and, until one of the recent hurricanes took its toll, a built in swimming pool. Oh, and my mom was a stay at home mom. My parents are enjoying the beautiful, suburban retirement that I doubt I will ever get to enjoy. So, I guess there's something to this planning thing. But parenting has never been more fast-paced and stressful than it is today. So, to survive in everyday life, parents, you'll need to plan on being more spontaneous; think on your feet, jump when the iron's hot, or you can plan on nothing getting done.
Case in point: Late for the bus, as usual, this morning. Suburban Princess walks out wearing jeans. Now, the radio said it was going to be 85 degrees today so I had to question the choice of wardrobe.
"I have no shorts," she replied.
"Well, we can go shopping over the weekend if you need."
"No," she abruptly cut me off. "I have shorts but not school shorts."
I look at Suburban Mom who informs me of the "finger tip rule". For you dads that aren't in the loop on this, you can have drinks in school, chew gum in school, eat in some classes in school, but you can only wear shorts to school if they cut off lower than your fingertips when your arms are hanging down.
"Hmmm, go put on the longest pair of clean shorts you have," I instructed her.
She returned wearing a pair that really weren't that short. Princess hung her arms down and said, "See"?
Her brother, who is much smaller than she, was standing next to me and getting a little anxious about missing the bus. I picked him up and held him next to his sister, shoulder to shoulder, with his feet dangling off the floor. I then instructed him to drop his arms down.
"You have 2 inches to spare, now get out there." And off they went. See, spontaneous solution, problem solved!
Spontaneity can save you all sorts of pain. It can bail you out of some uncomfortable situations as well. You just need to recognize when it offers a resolution to the issue at hand.
Example: One recent evening, my wife and son were out so I decided to take Suburban Dog for a walk through our neighborhood. The two returned just as I was turning off our street. It was a beautiful night so, they chased us down and joined us. Now, Suburban Mom has been hounding me for weeks, no, months, to have THE TALK with our son. Seems THE HEALTH CLASS has started already and I still haven't had THE TALK with him. She even went through the effort a few weeks ago of going to the library and taking out a book on "our changing bodies" so I could have a quick chat with him and give him this book. We of course, haven't really had that chat yet and she knew it. So, as nice as the evening walk was, my wife suggested quietly to me that this would be a good time to address things with him. When we came to a side street, she turned left to head back home. The boy and I stayed straight to, ummm, have our discussion.
I was trying to think of a way to bring it up but was drawing a complete blank. My son, then, starts to make these funny noises, clears his throat and spews some saliva onto the street. (Oh c'mon, moms- how disgusting can a kid's loogie really be?) Anyway, after doing this, he turns to me and asks, "Do you know what the difference between a boy and a girl is, dad?"
Ah, ha, I thought-spontaneous breakthrough, SCORE! "Why, no son. What's the difference?"
"When a girl gets a bad taste in her mouth, she brushes her teeth or chews gum. When a boy's mouth tastes bad, he just has to spit."
"Glad we finally had this chat, son. Let's stop for ice cream."
Posted on Sunday, May 31, 2009 @ 12:40 AM | 0 replies Start the Discussion |
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