Friends and Family

As Nita was getting Josephine ready for bed and I was tickling Connor in to breathlessness last night, he managed to get out our little safe phrase.  “I need a break.”  While he was recovering, he said, “Daddy I love you.”  I said, “Connor I love you too, you know that right?”  He said, “Yes!”  I pushed, “How do you know Daddy loves you?”  He said, “Because you are my friend.” 

I know this is a relatively short lived phase of absolute adoration and dependence and of course I am REALLY enjoying it, but I also know it is my responsibility to see the bigger picture.  Nita and I had an argument/discussion the other day about consistency and discipline.  We’re also interviewing new nanny candidates. (I know, but Amy is moving to Dallas, I swear we’re not running them off.  In fact I think it’s the opposite.  We find the best women with tons of upside and potential, and eventually someone else sees what we saw in these lovely and talented ladies and they move on to bigger and better things. Some marry millionaires). In any case the question of discipline came up. 

As we discussed our philosophy on positive reinforcement I also had to bring up that in the end, we are the adults and it is our moral obligation to both our children and society to not raise bratty kids.  This brought up the discussion in question when I told Nita to stop letting Connor play with my tools.  Because: a) My time is so limited now, when I want squeeze in a quick project I want to know where all my stuff is and not waste 20 minutes looking for something that is no longer where I left it; b) Connor has a zillion toys, a huge yard, and hundreds of books; c) As Mick Jagger said, “you can’t always get what you want; and d) he needs to learn that there are some things that adults do, say, and drink that are not appropriate for children.  I told her it takes no effort to be friends with a toddler, you give them everything they want.  The great parents are the ones that have children to say yes sir and no ma’am.  They call you by your last name.  (I still call my parent’s friends by their last names and I’m 42).  They come when you call them, not when they are done playing.  Nita is a little less consistent on this. 

We have our different styles for sure, and I’m not saying I’m always right or perfect.  For example, when Nita is juggling both kids and trying to do a third task, she’s more inclined to let Connor just hold or play with something that has piqued his curiosity to placate him for the moment to finish her task.  I will happily put on a video and give him a snack or some milk and go about my task.  She thinks he’s watching too much T.V. and I don’t want him playing with my tools, salt, pepper, scissors, staplers, etc.  We’re getting there.

The point is, I have an easier time telling Connor “no” and I’m more inclined to spend more time attempting to help him understand that what he’s doing is not appropriate.  And I know how important it is to teach these life lessons early, build a strong foundation, and help build character.  Connor knows when he’s done something wrong and when I reinforce it he sometimes gets upset.  I try to help him understand what he did was wrong and why.  And he definitely knows my “having fun” voice and my “right now mister” voice.  He does not get confused with me.  And he still smiles and runs into my arms every time I come home from work or from a trip.  Discipline does not mean you don’t love your children, it means the opposite.  I firmly believe that children are looking for boundaries and once established are more comfortable.  They know the line, check to see if it’s moved occasionally, but in the end like knowing where the edge of the earth is.  I’ve had my share of dumb ass moments through the years and thank God there were no camera phones and red light cameras back in the day, but all in all I was a pretty good kid.  I never missed a curfew and never got arrested… okay, never indicted. ;)  But I knew my limits and I didn’t wonder if, I knew there were consequences if I crossed the line. (All you veteran parents out there rolling your eyes, I know it doesn’t get easier, but this is my blog and the kids are young.  We’ll see what happens in a few years)

When heading over to a friend’s house for Game 5 of the World Series, another friend and I were talking about the discipline thing.  He said that too many of the women he’s been dating lately are “friends” with their kids.  The kids are brats, they have no respect for the parent unless they are being given exactly what they want (sounds like some folks on a famous street in NY, but I digress).”  We then told a few stories about the impact moments in our lives from our fathers.  They both included very attention getting scenarios shall we say and the lessons were clearly never forgotten.  And my love for my father and he for his is untarnished.  I miss dad so much I can’t even stand it sometimes and he died in 1996.  He was far from easy on me and I remember very clearly on time when I told him he wasn’t my friend. The scene was by the car in front of the garage.  I wanted to do something and he wouldn’t let me.  I said he just wanted to control me. He said he was trying to be my friend.  Then I said he wasn’t my friend.  He said, “Someday you’ll regret saying that.  Your dumbass friends only care what they can get from you today, I care about your future and everything you’ll ever be. I’m teaching you to be a man. I’m more of a friend than you’ll ever know.”

He was right, I still hear that conversation and it haunts me.  I am preparing myself for when Connor says it to me, and of course I’ll deserve it.  I may not deserve it for the moment when it’s delivered, but definitely for past sins.  In any case, I loved hearing Connor tell me that I was his friend last night.  But I know my job is bigger than being a buddy to a toddler.  Connor, I care about your future and everything you’ll ever be.  I hope that I’m teaching you to be a man and I hope someday you know how much of a friend I really am.”  Unfortunately Josie is so damn cute she gets everything she wants, I hope she marries a rich guy or life is going to be pretty down-hill from here.

Authors note: Nita was/is mad at me for this post.  I want to make the point that I was not being critical of her style specifically, but rather state the lessons my father taught me are key to my strategy with Connor.  I have very fond memories of mom slipping me a $20 here and there although she wasn't necessarily doing me any favors.  We've all heard the term, "Wait 'til your father gets home."  It doesn't mean mommy is weak, it just means that daddy metes out the punishment.  I was also trying to say that our home has a discipline strategy while many others are a free-for-all.  We've all seen the results of the misguided individuals who can't ever seem to get their stuff straight.  There are also many examples of folks who had good upbringings and the kids still strayed, and of course the opposite where kids from a free-for-all home became wonderful success stories.  In any case, Nita is a great mom and a wonderful parent, we both very much believe in action consequence. 

Three “Children.”

In the movie Rockstar Matthew Glave (playing “Izzy’s" brother) starts poking Mark Wahlberg.  Mark jumps up and pounds him. In the movie Stepbrothers, Will Farrel and John C Reilly lie in bed and threaten each other repeatedly, and eventually Farrell tries to bury Reilly alive.  (While searching for quotes from this movie, I was laughing hysterically in my office.  People probably think I’m nuts). Also, my best friends have kids that are just a tad older than Connor and Josephine and I’ve witnessed the interactions and more than likely peered into our future.  So I was completely shocked when Nita came into my home office the other day and said, “I need the camera.”  I curiously followed her into Connor’s room and there was Connor sleeping, and Josie was finger in his face about to wake him up. 

I thought Nita was insane.  I figured Connor would either throw a short right or mule-kick her across the room.  I prepared myself for this and hoped for the best.  Luckily, all he did was follow his training twice!  How good is that?  We’ve been trying to teach him not to push or kick Josie, slap things out of her hand, or grab things away from her that are his.  Instead he is supposed to ask for our help and we’ll take care of the situation.  Don’t y’all worry about Connor’s future; this is about not beating on his sister. I don’t plan on raising Gandhi and he will get some MMA learnin’ later.  In any case he opened his eyes and Josie was reaching for his lovie and he said, “MaaaaaaaaaahhhM! I need you! Tell Josie NO!”  This, by the way, is much easier to fix than a mule-kick.  It was pretty cute, Josephine then crawled up on his little bed and was pretty sweet. She loves her some Connor right now.

Remember how I mentioned that I always have some sort of project going on?  Well, a few years ago (if you are on the Christmas list you remember the story about “two Mexicans and a few beers?”  Well, the huge outdoor fireplace we built was used about four times.  Each time (since by definition it’s cold and windy) the smoke would end up blowing into the house or at least stay under the patio and we’d have to run the fans to help it dissipate.  So it was too smokey to really have any functional value.  Also a couple of years ago, for Christmas we got mom some gas fireplace logs and a burner.  Now whenever she wants a fire, she just turns the key and poof, instant fire.  When she’s done, click, she’s done.  No muss, no fuss.  So I started thinking…why not an outdoor gas fire pit.  This also enabled us to channel our inner Tool time Tim and demolish the old fireplace.  We are now building the new fire pit.  I’m rigging up a couple of small propane tanks (we don’t have gas in our neighborhood and we live on rock and I’m not going to rent a jackhammer crew to bury a 500 gallon tank) to the pit for a similar feel.  Kind of like the fire pits at Steiner ranch steakhouse if you’ve been on the patio.  Lava Rocks, some embers, maybe some logs, still deciding what will go in the middle. 

The other major advantage of the fire pit versus fireplace, was now you can see the entire back yard including the play scape from both our security camera and the kitchen sink window.  The camera feature is awesome because I have a live feed to my smart phone.  When I’m traveling and on the road, I can still steal a few minutes by watching my kids playing outside.  It’s a pretty nice treat and always makes me smile.  The main reason for this story is once again, the bobcat had to make another visit.  Connor excitedly got to see the bobcat at work.  The guys left it overnight and of course Connor had to go play on it.  He had a big time and even brought over his little front loader to “help.”  The cutest part was when he was taking parts of the flagstone out of the bobcat’s bucket and putting into his little front loader to assist. 

Josie meanwhile was really doing us a favor.  She was enjoying all of the toys we bought Connor when he was one.  She loves playing on his little house/slide, loves his little car, and his Winnie the Pooh riding toy.  So much so that I’m wondering, “do I need to buy her presents?”  Can’t I just either re-wrap or just present her with Connor’s hand me down toys that he has outgrown?  I mean we really did go a little nuts with Connor and most of his things are still in great condition.  Am I a bad parent?  I mean sure some of the stuff is a little gender specific and Nita is talking about getting her some dolls and a baby, but the big stuff should be fine right?  Good, I thought so too.  Besides, in this economy… well you know. 

So the weather is turning just in time for the fire pit.  I envision a S’mores night in the near future, or maybe even a glass of wine under the stars after we get the kids to bed night.  Someone told Nita and me that our marriage was like a child.  We need to nurture and encourage that child as much as much as our own children.  It’s hard when you’re not sleeping through the night because one of the non-metaphorical children start crying, have night terrors, or are cutting teeth.  But we’re still trying to make some time for each other.  A friend told me once that there are periods of time where you hate your spouse while at the same time are lost in adoration with your children.  I thought he was out of his mind, but I’m sure all of you have had that moment(s) when you are completely out of patience, exhausted, and your spouse just says exactly what you don’t need or want to hear.  So I can see where he was coming from.  Then I thought about how our third (technically first) child reacted to its siblings.  Not quite a mule-kick, but there was definitely some pouting.  There were clearly times when it threw tantrums, felt jealous, envious, and needed attention.  And in all honesty we neglected it a little bit.  Luckily we were able to recognize it and get back on track.  I’m sure most if not all of you have gone through this.  No one ever said this was easy, but our rewards are huge.  I was swinging Connor in the swing set last night and just out of the blue he said, “Daddy, I love you.”  Didn’t ask for anything, wasn’t trying to manipulate me, just made a matter of fact statement.  How did I feel?!  So we’re all doing fine and doing our best to love and nurture all “three” of our kids.  That’s a metaphor mom, we are not pregnant.

Things that make us smile

This weekend was a fun fest for me.  I had a big Ryder cup style golf tournament which was mercifully rained out on Sunday (more on that later), a rock concert/festival, and an awesome daddy son day.  And it rained.  For the first time since gas cost a dollar, it rained in our neighborhood.  I mean a wash out, big puddle, soaking downpour.  It was awesome.

The golf tournament was going well and then I took off to San Antonio for my rock and roll experience.  Those of you who are FB friends, know some of this, but essentially I have been given a pretty neat gift.  That gift is named Omar Uresti and he’s my best friend.  One really cool part of being Omar’s friend is he gets amazing and frequent access to celebrities.  I still remember one time at a tournament in Pebble Beach, Clint Eastwood hosted a party for the golfers.  I was trying to explain to my wife Nita to act like you belonged “inside the ropes” and everyone will treat you like one of them.  We met and shook hands with Mr. Eastwood and she couldn’t even speak. I later caught her just staring at him.  It was pretty funny and I’m sure I’ll get in trouble for this.  However, isn’t it awesome when you find yourself in a situation where you are amazed as you were when we were a child? The smile either inward or outward of child-like wonder.

So the quick background here, ever heard of a movie called Rockstar?  In it a guy in a tribute band gets invited to replace the newly fired lead singer of this mega rock band.  Well in real life this happened to a guy named Tim Ripper Owens when he became the new lead singer for Judas Priest.  Tim is a golf fan as are a couple of guys from Judas Priest.  Omar’s caddy at the time was a comedian named Michael Collins who you may have seen doing the “caddies corner” or heard him on XM if you follow golf.  Anyway, super funny and sweet guy and a good caddy, in fact I even emceed his wedding (talk about pressure, Emceeing a comedian’s event?).  In any case, Mike knew Omar was a Priest fan and they were playing at a club in which he had done stand-up.  So he called to get passes (no one pays for anything at their level BTW).  They got in and as soon as JP found out Omar was in the club, gave him full backstage all-access.  They were as excited to meet him as he was to meet them.  Omar called his sponsor and had them send drivers and putters to all the guys.  Omar and Tim were now life-long friends.  Tim left the band and Rob Halford came back, and Tim has been working on other projects since.  In any case, he follows Omar at certain events, and Omar always goes to see him when he can. 

So Omar calls and said Tim was playing in San Antonio Saturday night with the Dio disciples. (Stick with me, this will get to parenting and kids).  We go and of course get back stage all access dressing room, tour bus, the whole shebang.  Meanwhile, I’m looking at my watch because: a) I’m an old fart now and I don’t usually stay up past 11; b) Nita and my cardiologist have me on weight watchers and every Michelob ultra is 3 points; c) I have a huge golf match in the morning; and d) we still have to drive back home and I live another 30 minutes North West of Omar.  So after the show, Tim says, “Wendy is taking us all to dinner.”  He meant Wendy Dio as in Ronnie James Dio’s wife.  So we all go to dinner.  The nice thing is once you are inside the ropes with these folks, they are as nice and sweet as can be.  Just real people.  We told stories about our kids, about traveling, golf, concerts, cities, food, diets, you name it.  It really was a great time.  Then we loaded up and headed to Omar’s house, and we got there around 1 AM, maybe later.  I just slept in the spare room. My sleep was the sleep of the innocent.

The next morning I grabbed a cup of coffee and headed home in the downpour.  I called for my tee time and the match was suspended.  THANK GOD!!!  As I got home the kids were up and happy to see me and me to see them.  So I said, “Connor, do you want to go in the golf cart and get wet and maybe play in some puddles?”  DUH!!!  So we changed clothes and off we went.  We jumped in puddles and splashed and just had a big time. Then we drove by a Halloween shop.  He said, “let’s go in there daddy.”  Well we were in no condition to do it, so we went back home, dried off, cleaned up and headed to the Halloween store. 

Now I don’t remember getting the memo that Halloween now equals motion sensitive zombies at 150 bucks a pop, but there are a LOT of choices for that.  Luckily Connor only wanted a 4 foot cobra snake.  And Connor did pretty well.  He only wanted me to hold him once and he was fascinated by the spiders, rats, and snakes (all boy that kid).  Well, we got home and he wanted to go outside again.  So we went to play, in the mud.  You do remember his affinity for mud right?  Well the rain and the fact that our crew had not shown up with the grass in three weeks left a really nice wet trench that was extra sticky.  Connor got his front loader and got after it.  His face could not contain his smile.  He had so much fun it was amazing.  My amazingly awesome wife suggested that I take a nap while Connor napped.  I smiled, hugged and kissed her, and of course accepted.

The next day (Columbus Day), Nita had arranged a neighborhood play date.  She asked me about whether or not to cancel.  I recommended that she advise the parents to bring a change of clothes, a towel, and be prepared to be hosed down.  Those kids played with all the toys and everything we have.  Not Connor, he went straight for the mud.  And eventually so did all the kids.  They had a blast. 

So yesterday, my guys showed up with some grass.  And they finally covered the dirt, so we could have a yard again.  And the first question Nita asked me (now she has been on my butt for a month about getting grass, because she can’t keep the house clean with Connor in the mud all the time) was, “Do you think we could get some more dirt delivered?  Connor loves it!” 

Finally, my mom turned 76 yesterday (October 11).  I emailed and posted a request to some friends to reach out to her and wish her a happy birthday.  I decided to limit it to people that had met mom and whom she had more than likely either housed, helped or fed at some time in my life.  And four decades of my friends, family, and former teammates reached out to her.  It absolutely made her day.  She couldn’t stop smiling.  There is something about watching your kids, your wife, your mom, and even yourself get that smile that just can’t be removed.  It’s the smile that makes you happy with all the little things that keep you warm.  The one that is infectious for happy people, and best of all, the one that really pisses off miserable people.  God bless.

New skillz

Some of my fondest memories are grilling steaks and cooking fish outside with my dad on both our grill and the “disco” (pronounced [dees koe].  The disco for you Mexi-can’ts, is basically an old tractor plow disk, with another disk underneath welded to it with a stand.  So essentially it’s kind of like a wok, but with tractor parts and you put wood in the lower level.  You have a really hot center and a less hot outer ring.  In any case, we used to have some pretty mean fish fries in that bad boy, while we had fajitas going on the grill.  We smoked a lot of meats and really had fun with it.  Also, mom knew her way around the kitchen as many of you know.  For years I thought chicharrones were the most special part of the dinner.  Mom would carve off the fat with just a hint of meat, and cook it up (to season the pan I found out later), then salt it and put it in a corn tortilla for me…I was in heaven. I couldn’t understand why she gave the rest to the dogs. 

My love for cooking carried me through college when my first year at Texas A&M was spent in an off campus apartment without a meal plan.  I cooked most of my own meals and luckily mom and dad gave me a pretty good base.  Then when I bought my first house, I used to have “fill the grill” Sundays which many of you also know about.  I’d smoke a brisket, or some ribs, make a steak or two and usually put a beer butt chicken out there just for fun.  Friends would just show up on Sundays, (imagine that), and we’d watch football then movies, and I’d still have food for the week.  And my dogs Shiner and Rio would eat like royalty. 

When I married Nita, I did a lot of the cooking early on, but at the time I was on the Atkins diet.  This diet does not sit well with Italians.  No bread, no pasta, no starches, sugarless dessert, November Foxtrot Whiskey.  Nita decided she was taking over in the kitchen.  As many of you know I gained a zillion pounds, but that’s not the point of this. 

Connor LOVES being around us in the kitchen.  He is also just shy of three years old and is in that very want-to-be-helpful mode.  If you remember the blog two weeks ago, shake and bake baby.  Nita has been allowing him to help with a few things here and there, and our new nanny is doing a “Thursday cook day.”  Three weeks ago they made cookies.  Two weeks ago was mini-biscuit pizzas.  Yesterday Nita unveiled the new utensil of the month.  Yes the Williams Sonoma train cake pan.  And Yes Connor helped.  My favorite part of asking Nita how it went was, “How did it go, honey?”

“It went great, but we’re out of eggs.”

“Really, how many eggs did it call for?”

“We used seven eggs.”

“The recipe called for seven eggs, or you ended up using seven eggs.”

“We’re out of eggs.  Connor kind of…, we’re out of eggs.”

“Okay, good tip.  I’ll put it on the list.”

Connor had a blast, and the cake came out great.  We’re thinking that this might end up being his birthday cake.  You know how that boy loves Trains right?

Josie is also developing her skills.  In addition to Connor’s play scape on the pea gravel we moved Josie’s little playhouse/slide there as well.  She LOVES playing on it.  She can climb up the slide, stand up in the playhouse and even slide down the slide with a little help.  And as most of you veteran parents already know, she’s quite the daredevil.  She wants to do everything that big brother does. She has quite a little grip and is very proficient with the sippy cup. She also is at the stage where she has decided which books (so far) are her favorites.  She’ll grab them and then crawl them over to me or Nita for us to read them to her.  I can’t believe she’ll be a year old in a month.  The time is screaming by.  And I am continually amazed at both of their new interests, words learned, tendencies, and skills they pick up every day.