a vegasdad rant

Why, oh, why does Z-Dub all of a sudden not want to sleep at night? I'm not kidding when I say he gets out of bed a minimum of 15 times a night for various reasons. This has been going on for about two weeks now and it's annoying the crap out of me. We've tried preventing him from napping during the day. We've even tried keeping him up later in the evening. All of our approaches to resolve this new bedtime ritual have failed miserably. It's frickin' annoying. It's interrupting "Daddy and Mommy time."

Now, changing the subject completely, why would Discovery Channel think it's smart to air "Shark Week" in the middle of summer when throngs of vacationers are visiting beaches across the country? Talk about scaring us out of the water. Luckily, we're in Las Vegas and the only real scary creatures at our beaches -- sand bottom hotel/resort pools -- are overweight, old and hairy Eurotourists who think it's fashionable to wear speedos. Having one of them bend over in front of you can cause severe illness and possibly death. That's why we prefer the more private pool cabanas. They also make us feel like rock stars.

Finally, I'm annoyed with myself for not finding more time to update this blog. A lot of it has to do with my hectic schedule lately. Also, the kids have been wacko lately. Now that The Deuce is mobile, it seems that all we do is try to prevent him from hurting himself. Speaking of The Deuce, he has one voracious appetite. I thought Z-Dub was going to eat us to the poor house, but we're quickly realizing that our more plump infant is even more of a pig. It's no wonder he's only 14 lbs. lighter than his three-year-old brother.

That's all.

multiplying like rabbits

... because they are rabbits. Living in a new 'hood in the hills overlooking Las Vegas, we're no strangers to wild animals. Each evening, as the summer sun sets, little bats swoop in the skies above our house, quail run about the bushes, roadrunners run down the street and, luckily only on rare occasions, a coyote is spotted in the darkness of night. We know why the coyotes are here -- it's all those little rabbits! I'm sure they make for a tasty buffet for those coyotes.

What started out as a few cute little cotton-tailed bunny rabbits in our bushes and hopping along the sidewalks and in the grass, has blossomed into a rather large, and still growing, colony of rabbits in a very short amount of time. After all, rabbits do have a reputation for their promiscuity and resulting baby booms. I've seen a lot of babies lately, who will undoubtedly grow to be horny teenagers in the matter of months.

Z-Dub loves those little rabbits. During our evening walks he often counts how many he spots. He used to see one of two, now it's about a dozen at a time. He loves to try to get up close before they dart off.

So why does it appear that I'm complaining about these little harmless animals. Well, I have a few -- first, I hate avoiding their poop pellets during walks; second, the more bunnies, the more coyotes. I think they like to eat little dogs (watch out Lola) and little kids (watch out Z-Dub); and finally, you already know of my issues with two cartoon rabbits. It's like they're f%&king with me.

prick!

I hate needles. I hate needles. I hate needles. I hate needles. Yep, I hate needles. You get the picture. And tomorrow I have to get blood drawn for a series of diagnostic tests. Needless to say, I'm freakin' the f%*k out in anticipation. I'm such a wimp.

This is going to be way more difficult than getting my dangling bits groped by the male doctor and an ultrasound tech. There are six things that may happen at 9 a.m. tomorrow...

1. I may throw up.
2. I may pass out.
3. I may (unintentionally) smack the nurse.
4. I may run away while screaming like a girlie b#tch.
5. I may cry.

or, finally...

6. I can man up and take a prick without causing a scene.

Let's hope No. 6 happens, otherwise it's going to be embarrassing. I wonder if they charge more for Nos. 1 through 5?

a mission

VegasDad circa 2003:

A consistent gym regimen (before kids, blog, etc.) and 190 lbs. of pure muscle.

VegasDad present day:

Haven't been to the gym in ages, feeling out-of-shape, pathetic and not even 160 lbs. of softness.

We've got a mission my friends. I'm on a quest to regain the glory of my days of peak physical shape. I don't want to be 190 lbs. again, but a nice muscle-toned body somewhere in between my current weight and my former would be nice. I'm being realistic because, let's face it, I'm no longer in my 20s. And frankly, I don't have the time and energy anymore to commit to what is required to be my previous self. 

Anyways, stay tuned. And if you hear or see me slacking, feel free to tear me apart with your words of disappointment and disgust. 

of needle pricks and hard hits

Have any of the few parents that read this blog ever have to take their child to get blood drawn?

How did it go?

What did you do to calm your child (and yourself)?

We're facing having to take Z-Dub to get blood drawn as part of his pre-operation regimen. He's scheduled for surgery on Saturday morning, so we have to get it done sometime today or during the next couple of days. He's never had blood taken, so I'm fearful about the trauma it's going to cause him. I think we may actually have to strap him down to do it.

I don't know if I'm going to be able to be in the same room with him as its done. I personally have an intense fear of needles due to some extremely excruciating childhood experiences in the hospital with IVs. I remember when I was about 10 years old I spent a week or so in the hospital for one of my many surgeries. I had a room mate, who was a little boy that had a pituitary problem and was going to have surgery to fix it. We decided one evening to race wheelchairs in the hall of the children's ward (this was before surgery for both of us). In doing so, I knocked the IV out of my arm. The result was a punishing replacement. The damned nurses couldn't get the IV back in my arm. They tried 17 times, jabbing long needles into my black and blue arms, with no success. Finally they gave up and stuck it in my foot. That hurt like like hell. Ever since then I almost pass out at the sight of needles.

Needless to say I'm not looking forward to Z-Dub facing the same thing. Not only will he need blood drawn for the pre-operation blood work, but he'll most definitely need an IV for his his surgery to remove his tonsils, adenoids and place new tubes in his ears.

I'm going to be a nervous wreck all week.

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Changing subjects to something much more pleasant...anyone else see the Pacquiao vs. Hatton fight live on Saturday night? We were at a Pacquiao party, eating Filipino food and supporting Manny. He kicked some serious Hatton ass (well, face) for sure.

It was awesome, but I kind of wish the bout lasted a little longer than just two rounds. Oh well. Pacquiao won and that's all we cared about.

our toddler is not a morning person

Perhaps it's the darker mornings. Or maybe he wakes up in the middle of the night and parties without us knowing. Who really knows? One thing is certain though -- Z-Dub isn't a morning person.

I always thought it was normal that toddlers wake up smiling at the butt crack of dawn, demanding food and cartoons from groggy parents. Z-Dub is different. He's like a teenager who likes to sleep in. He'd be happy to wake up at 9 a.m. or later.

Let me share with you this morning's wake up call. It was much the same as the previous few mornings.

It's 6:45 a..m. and I open the door to Z-Dubs dark room. The sound of the fan and his snores fill the air. I pull back the dark blue curtains and open the blinds, letting in the morning light.

I call out, "Z-Dub, it's time to get up."

A couple of seconds later I say, "Come on buddy, we have to get ready to see your friends at school."

A minute passes as I pull a pair of shorts, pull-up, t-shirt and socks from his dresser.

"Z-Dub, wake up," I call out, again.

I go over and sit on the edge of his bed. I touch his shoulder and repeat my plea for him to wake up. He rolls from his side to his back and stretches. After he rolls back over to his side without ever opening his eyes.

"Come on buddy. We have to get ready for school. You want to eat," I ask.

He ignores me.

While he still sleeps I proceed to change him from his pajamas into his school clothes. I get to the shirt and he lets out a yell, "Daddy nooooo. I not awake."

I continue changing his shirt. "Nooooooo Daddddyyyyy. I sleeping. Go away," he says.

I ignore it and continue. Once I'm done he lays back down on his side in an attempt to go back to sleep. I walk away to discard his soiled diaper and he flips out.

"Noooo Daddy. I want you," he says.

I pick him up and we head down stairs for breakfast.

"Do you want some yogurt," I ask.

He doesn't reply. As I sit him down to watch his morning cartoons, he has a fit. Later he calms down and I inquire again, "You want some yogurt?"

"No Daddy. We go to SeaWorld," he replies with tears in his eyes.

Apparently I've interrupted a dream of whales, fish and dolphins too. It made for a grumpy morning.


On a side note, I think we may have to make a trip to Shark Reef at Mandalay Bay this weekend and just tell him it's SeaWorld.

here comes the leper

The pain emanating from my severly sunburnt noggin had subsided. In fact, the redness did as well.

That is until this morning.

As I showered large blobs of skin started accumulating on the floor near the drain. My head was peeling like a molting snake. As I observed (and felt) what was going on I began to dread what I might look like when I glance in the mirror after emerging from my cool and relaxing chamber of wetness.

To help the peeling along I came up with a brilliant idiotic plan to use some of HotMomma's expoliating facial cleanser. You know the kind. It has microbeads or something that makes it feel like you're washing with sand. Well that was a really f%#ked up idea. The sting was extremely painful and I think it pissed off my skin.

Now I have large areas of my skin peeled away, revealing still-burnt and pissed off pink skin. To make matters worse, the freshly exposed skins hurts. BAD.

I'm wearing a ball cap today at work. If I reveal my peeling noggin I'm sure to be sent to leper colony.

*And, no I will not be posting any pictures!

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In other news....Z-Dub has been SeaWorld obsessed ever since the weekend. Everytime we go to leave the house he asks, "We go to SeaWorld?" When the answer is no, there's hell to pay.

i want it now!

I want a f*cking iPhone and I want it NOW!

But in order to purchase one I have to pay double the price.

Why, you may ask?

Well, because I've been with AT&T Wireless and it's predecessors for more than a decade and apparently I'm being penalized for my loyalty. To make a long story short, I'm eligible for an upgrade in April 2009 because I'm locked into my current two year contract. I'm not patient enough to wait that long.

As many of your are aware, when you're an AT&T customer they make you keep your old phone for two long years despite the fact that they're constantly releasing new and better phones. If you decide to upgrade early you have to pay significantly more. While I'm no genius in the area of retail marketing, it makes no sense to me. If you allow your customers to upgrade to new technology freely without penalizing them for already being a customer they might actually be more willing to utilize your services longer.

If anybody works in the mobile phone industry, AT&T or other, please enlighten me about this bizarre practice of f*cking people up the ass.

Thanks.

And, yes I'm whining.

perfecting his toddlerness

We've been fortunate when it comes to experiencing notorious toddler behavior. At nearly two and a half years old, Z-Dub has never really acted out in extreme defiance, with kicking and screaming meltdowns. That is until now. It seems as though Z-Dub has finally discovered and embraced true toddlerness. Simply put, lately he's become a brat. Sometimes a brat of epic proportions.

Our days of pride of our well-mannered two-year-old have turned into embarrassing public temper tantrums, because HE doesn't want to go where we need to go or HE wants what HE wants and nothing else. He's a stubborn little one and when he doesn't get his way the result is high-pitched screams, flailing arms and legs, and defiant language. When this happens in public we can do nothing more than go with the flow and try to make a quick exit as stares from strangers make us feel like parenting failures. I don't care about that though because I'm pretty confident in my assumption that this behavior is common among kids Z-Dub's age. We just have to deal with it the best way we know how. Right now it's the time out. We've actually resorted to having to enforce time outs in public in addition to home. We just find a secluded chair or bench. The juries out on whether it works or not. Again, it's all new to us.

Another thing Z-Dub has suddenly embraced is the early wake up. Until recently the boy would sleep in until we actually went to his room and woke him up. He's always been that way. Now, of course, he likes to wake up at first light, or sometimes before. This week, for example:

Monday: 5:42 a.m.
Tuesday: 5:42 a.m.
Wednesday: 5:38 a.m.

We don't appreciate being woken up before our alarms even go off. It's also hard to get ready in the morning when you have to entertain a toddler. Unfortunately, it's our new reality.

I know...I know...welcome to the club!

summertime sick

Headache, aching body, sinus congestion, sore throat, extreme laryngitis and a cloudy head make for a crappy weekend. I hate summertime colds.

a muddied weekend

POOP. Yep, I wrote it. This post is about poop. Actually, diarrhea is a more accurate term, but not as fun to say. I know I'm teetering in the area of "too much information," but who cares.

HotMomma and Z-Dub returned home from San Diego yesterday just before I returned from Chicago. Unfortunately, they both caught some kind of nasty stomach flu during their trip. Just in time for the weekend, today they both are suddenly dealing with some fast-flowing unpleasantries originating from their back ends. I hope to avoid the same infliction. But as parents, we all know too well how incredibly contagious these types of illnesses are. I'm not at all looking forward to being tethered to the porcelain throne this weekend or, worse yet, early next week when I have to return to work and a full agenda of meetings and projects. If there are "mudslides" I'll have to miss work and end up even more behind than I already am.

*My tummy is already feeling a little weird. I hope it's just psychological.

Along with the illness, Z-Dub is in a "crappy" mood. And, as you can imagine, with HotMomma 22 weeks pregnant and having to deal with this type of illness, she's in a very, very "shitty" mood. I'm sure if I was in her shoes, I'd have the same demeanor. Actually, I'd probably be worse, because I don't handle illness quite as adult like.

definitely not a dry heat

In Vegas it's hot in the summer. Actually, a more accurate description would be sizzling. It's like that all summer long and as residents we deal with it. Though sometimes when it's 110 or more it's a bit unbearable. That's why I was surprise yesterday as I was wandering around Chicago in the afternoon and hearing people complain that it was hot. Sure it was a little warm, but it wasn't really hot. I thought the people were a bunch of wimps. That is until today.

I have a couple of hours until my next relevant breakout session at the conference I'm attending, so I decided to head back to the hotel for some rest since I didn't get much sleep again last night, for this reason. I was sweating like a pig during my eight-block walk back to the hotel. I had sweat running down my back and into my butt crack. It was so uncomfortable. It's 90+ degrees and HUMID! I haven't felt humid air like this since New Orleans four years ago and it's something I'm definitely not used to. In fact, I've become so accustomed to super dry air that even Southern California feels humid to me. I feel it as soon as we drive over the Cajon Pass or our airplane lands.

I didn't pack any summertime clothing for this trip. Only business-type clothing. So before going into the hotel I hit the Old Navy across the street for a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. Both are definitely needed. So was the shower I just took.

inhospitable chicago

It's a little after midnight in Chicago and I sit here wide awake. Not because I'm not sleepy, but because the city decided tonight was a good night to tear a giant gaping whole in the street right outside my second floor hotel room window and do some very loud underground work. There's banging, clanking, grinding, engines, beeping and loud chatter (picture shows the bright and unfortunate view from my window).

I called the front desk to inquire about the construction and they said that it's possible that'll go on all night. Also, they don't have any other rooms to move me to tonight. They didn't seem too apologetic either. So, let's just say I'm f**ked. I'm not the type of person that can sleep through this shit. I'll have to attend my conference tomorrow as a walking zombie with bloodshot eyes surrounded by dark circles. I'll probably be in anti-social and in a bad mood too. That's what sleep deprivation does to me.

By the way, I'm staying at one of Kimpton's boutique hotels. It's the Hotel Burnham at 1 West Washington Street (at State Street) in Downtown. I don't recommend it at all. It's nice and all, but the fact that they didn't warn me of such activities and also placed me in a second floor room directly in front of the construction gives them extremely poor marks. The fact that they weren't sympathetic to my current noisy predicament only put salt on my sleepy wounds.

I'm pissed off and tired!

beggin' again

Once again I find myself in the position of trying to get listed on dads.alltop.com. My previous blog was featured after making a pathetic plea. This time I sent an email request and I'm being very patient. But, seriously, do I have to do, beg? I already have their branded badge prominently displayed high up on this page. Hopefully it'll help persuade them.