Tidy Husband

Eligible for the seniors discount and the Happy Meal deal at the same time.

  1. The Cookie Monster

    Life is a bunch of choices.

    You can have it now or later. Not both.

    Photo by Kristine Wook on Unsplash

    We were a little later eating tonight. Not late, but more like normal people would about 6pm instead of earlier at 5 which is the norm here.

    After a full day of school, she found two friends to terrorize the neighborhood with and didn’t come back until five anyway, so it all worked out.

    “I’m hungry”, she whined.

    We told her we were aware and gave her a slice of cheese and told her that this will do you for 20 minutes. You will not starve.

    Then, BW and I went to what we do about this time of day: She cooks, and I clean - we’re a perfect match.

    But.

    While we were not looking, the child snuck into our small pantry and swiped an Oreo Cookie.

    Then she snuck down to the family room to scarf it down.

    The trouble was for her that seconds later I walked by her and noticed she was eating something so I asked her what she was eating.

    “mmmffmf nothing mmmffm”, she replied with a sheepish smile that was covered in oreo dust as she tried to swallow that last bite before she got caught.

    YOU STOLE AN OREO!!!, I cried.

    I will have to give her some credit; she owned up to it right away. It’s not like there wasn’t enough evidence.

    I then told her that she is currently eating her dessert in the shape of that cookie and there will not be any dessert tonight.

    Cue the Screaming.

    “Huggie!!”, she screamed.

    Sigh. So, I got her on the couch and then we had a talk about telling the truth and we don’t sneak food. I took this family moment to try and explain the actions and consequences thing.

    I’m not sure if it stuck, but there was no more misbehaving for the rest of the night and when dinner did show 10 minutes later, she ate it all up without hesitation and the rest of the night was a breeze.

    Tonight, bedtime was easy. It was the two hours before then that was the problem and she got into trouble.

    If it weren’t for the cookie theft she would have had a perfect score today.

    Oh well, there’s always tomorrow.

    Keeping out of the cookie jar,

    TH and Co.

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  2. The Bedtime Routine is a Moving Target

    One day I will not write about bedtimes, but tonight is not that day.

    The bedtime routine here is never the same.

    Photo by Bastien Jaillot on Unsplash

    I envy the other parenting bloggers or writers that seem to have it all together with their perfect little bento boxes at the ready for the school day as they wait for the bus with their perfectly clean clothes and well brushed hair.

    Meanwhile…

    “Hey Dad! I got my Crocs all muddy on the inside. Can you wash them?”

    “Didn’t I tell you to stay out of the mud?

    “Yes, but that’s okay”

    Back to bedtimes: Just when you think you have lost the war, things change in an instant. Tonight, after our very very early dinner and a few minutes outside where she filled her shoes with mud - she went upstairs, put on her PJ’s and brushed her teeth and came to find me to start the bedtime routine.

    So, better. Much Better than the other night.

    Kind of.

    In my imaginary world where my child goes to bed on the first attempt, I would have already finished this post.

    Instead: She went to bed so early that the Amazon delivery person dropped off some stuff on our porch and she had to see what the excitement was all about.

    Then, once she realized it as just stuff we needed then she decided to try the snack ploy.

    She asks for a snack. I say no.

    She pleads and pleads but gets the same answer.

    I tell her to drink water. She ate everything on her plate and then some tonight so she’s not getting any more food. I think she had 3 desserts tonight somehow. She had enough to eat.

    Then she tried one last attempt: “I have a headache”, she tells us.

    Doubtful, but here’s some Tylenol and an ice pack.

    Good. Night.

    I have won for another night. There was some mild complaints when I closed her door but she’s finally out.

    Only 2 more weeks and then the days get shorter again.

    Getting a child to bed in the summer before 9pm should be an Olympic Sport.

    the Minecraft bird cage can wait until tomorrow. Goodnight!

    Sweet Dreams,

    TH and Co.

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  3. Tonight's Winning Numbers

    Today was like winning the lottery.

    Today was a pretty quiet day here at first glance, but then I realized it was a pretty interesting day too. As they say - it’s the little things. Here’s today by the numbers:

    Photo by Waldemar on Unsplash

    One.

    That’s the number of times I had to put her back to bed tonight. It’s been worse - a lot worse.

    Twelve.

    That’s how many little pink potting cans BW bought on Amazon to turn our leftover pallet from our sod delivery into a bright and colorful wall of flowers for our new poolside area

    looks great considering that this was used to transfer our front lawn a week ago

    Two.

    How many hours it took the child to finish her homework for the entire summer. We thought she was joking, but she finished it all last night when she should have been going to bed. It was not a school night so we let it slide and she was quiet in her room. Turns out she was quietly doing her homework for the entire summer.

    Note where she wrote that she has finished it already. She is FINISD with kindergarten. Bring on First Grade already.

    rocking to the oldies, because dad is one.

    Ten.

    Seconds I let her listen to my headphones before she lost interest. But those ten seconds were intense let me tell you. She was feeling groovy

    Then she told me that dinner was ready and I needed to come upstairs.

    Three.

    This one is kind of embarrassing but at one point all of us were watching YouTube on 3 different devices in 3 different rooms. I decided that this was quite the embarrassing fact to realize and I went and mowed the lawn to redeem myself.

    Here’s to Winning,

    TH and Co.

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  4. I'm tired of you being too tired to admit you're tired.

    It’s, well - tiring.

    We were doing so well.

    Until we weren’t.

    Photo by Tim De Pauw on Unsplash. This is how her day ended.

    She had a great day. She woke up happy and had good morning with mommy at the flower store where they bought more flowers for the garden. (I think BW has a problem) and then they came home and she had to clean her room before the swimming pool opened for the day - that was the deal.

    I wasn’t around to see it but I don’t doubt there was some push back from the wee one, but it got done eventually

    The rest of the day she was in the pool, or eating. Today must have been a growing day today because she had her lunch, and then half of my sandwich which she washed down with some jello and I think apple sauce. Quite the combo, but she didn’t stop eating today

    Today was a great day. Both the temp of the pool and the outdoor air were about the same at the mid-70’s and she was in and out of that pool all day. We had dinner and then while cleaning up she played outside, got dirty, came in and had a bath and then got dressed and went outside again to play

    Then she wanted me to take her for a walk. I was actually busy cleaning still so I couldn’t but mommy said it was time to come in. It had been a full day. It was getting dark and it was time for bed - as simple as that. The day is OVER

    She first tried to bargain with us. I forget the details but I don’t think it was a deal for either of us.

    When that didn’t work, we had the screaming start. We haven’t had the “I’m so tired, and I can’t really communicate it so I’m screaming” in a long time. We have been blessed.

    Until Tonight. She laid on the floor and wailed and howled for a good ten minutes. BW and I exchanged glances and I blinked first, so I had to deal with her.

    I offered an olive branch. This was of course just my arm to get her off the floor, but that got her hand into mine and then I have something to work with. Then I have her attention and I can get her other hand in mine.

    We are standing now, and settling down. I ask her if her feet work and she shows me that they do. I ask her if they know how to go up the stairs, and look at that they do!

    She wanted a “huggie”, but I told her there’s no Huggies until she gets her PJ’s on.

    PJ’s were put on and hugs were doled out.

    Crisis averted, for the most part. She tried to talk me into watching a video in bed and I told her no, that ship sailed while you were screaming on the floor. Not tonight.

    I laid with her a while and we talked about how calories work - of all things, but hey - it got her in bed and her mood reset.

    Like they say, it’s not the trip - it’s the destination.

    Tonight’s Destination is bed.

    Sleep Tight,

    TH and Co.

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  5. Who Ya Gonna Call?

    We need Rick Moranis. Now.

    This is a story about a missing ghost.

    The child came downstairs and showed me what she made: If you haven’t guessed - it’s a wanted poster for her missing ghost.

    It’s a silent E.

    Missing Ghost?

    Yes. Missing Ghost.

    A few nights ago she made a ghost out of paper. She should have been in bed, but after the routine she got out of bed and with her markers and scissors made an entire ghost setup that was on her dresser last we looked.

    This ghost had it all. It had a blanket and I think a car and a few other accessories. This was one loaded ghost.

    The next morning, it was all about the ghost here. so of course both BW and I agreed that we should not pitch the ghost and we should put the ghost somewhere safe and not toss it - which is usually our first response.

    Trouble is, we have no idea where that somewhere safe would be. We checked where we thought the ghost was - the ghost is not there. We checked where the ghost might be and still no ghost.

    This warranted a wanted poster being made, and that’s where we are now.

    “Ghosty” is missing.

    This is one thing I can’t blame the dog for. I have half a thought I brought Ghosty up to the current disaster that is her bedroom, but we could not find it there with a cursory glance.

    At this point, we are all out of ideas.

    Ghosty is missing.

    Luckily, Dad knows know who to call.

    Until Next Time,
    TH and Co.

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