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Dear The Dad,

My husband and I have three kids (twins and a singleton) and, while we both agree that we don't want any more children, we are at a bit on an impasse. Up to this point, I've been in charge of birth control, meaning I've been on the pill. I've taken it since I was in college, and frankly, I'm done. I don't want to take it anymore. I'll spare you the details, but lately my body has not been reacting positively to it. So now I'm trying to talk my husband into a vasectomy. He has been, shall we say, resistant. Very resistant.

So, do you have any advice what to say to him? If you don't mind me asking, have you had a vasectomy? From reading your blog, I'm guessing you have.

Advice on what to say to him? Say nothing. Just leave him alone with the kids for a week, and when you come back, say "Oh, and I'm off the pill." That would do it for me. I mean, before my wife's 3-month maternity leave was exhausted, I not only visited the hospital myself for a quick and easy vasectomy, but I also sent my wife in to have her vagina surgically relocated to the middle of her left thigh. Not that it matters because I sleep at the neighbor's house, just in case.

It's a penis, fellas. It's not the Eighth Wonder of the World. Get it snipped. I guarantee that any mistreatment it suffers in the hands of your trained urologist is nothing compared to the abuse you dished out at thirteen locked in your closet with a stack of Playboys and a tube sock. It's a simple procedure. Get it done.

Seriously, I have half a mind to detail for you the unending medical delights that your wives have had to put up with in, on, and around their hoo hoos just to show you what a pussy scrotum you are being. Go get it snipped.

Hope this helps,

The Dad

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Dear The Dad,

I've got Irish twins (22 months and 10 months) and in a lot of ways I think that this must be harder than having actual twins. When I say this to people with twins, they look like they want to hurt me. Before you want to hurt me too, let me say I know having twins is really, really hard, but at least your twins are at the same stage, right?

Thanks, Mom to Jonas and Zachary

Dear Mom to J & Z,

Too late. I already want to hurt you.

And have you ever thought that the other parents want to hurt you because you say "Irish" twins? Seriously, what is it with that? When you talk about kids born within a year from each other, please use a less-offensive term. Call them "I'm-a-Slow-Learner" twins. Or, better yet, "Abstinence-Only Education" twins. You could shorten that to "Palin" twins, if you are so inclined.

As for the "who has it harder" question, the answer is simple. We all have it harder. We are all stretched to our limits. One kid, two kids, three kids; we are all as busy as we could possibly be. At some point, watching two people try to one-up each other in the world of child-borne suffering is ridiculous. Go take a few minutes, find your not-at-all twin children, and hug them tight. Look in their faces. Kiss them. Stop using them as ammunition in your self-absorbed pity party, because, really, when it all comes down to it, the truth is twins are harder. Whoo, biatches!

Hope this helps, The Dad

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Dear The Dad,

I have a daughter too, and while I only have one, I wonder if we have the same concern: Do you worry that a fine gentleman with a cash fan and Levolor shades will come along and sweep her off her feet? That's right, I'm worried about this guy.

Yours in fear, Burt

Dear Burt,

That guy could have Kathryn at "hello," or however it is the young people greet each other these days. Kathryn is all about the money these days. This is the same girl who, right at the beginning of Spring, blanketed our neighborhood with these:

I have no doubt, if Mr Cashfan lived on our block, she'd have put two in his mailbox.

Dear The Dad,

Do you think Hillary should give up and concede to Obama?

Thanks, The Godfather

Dear The Godfather

No. Months ago, I bet The Mom I could get Lila potty trained before Hillary gave up. I need Hillary to hold out just a little longer if she can.

Dear The Dad,

My husband and I are buying our first home; we close on May 28th.

Our home features a detached garage with a ginormous finished/insulated room included – windows, a little wood burning stove, electrical outlets – quite cozy, really. It has been agreed that said room will become “The Man Cave”.

My husband has a HUGE clown head trashcan lid made of fiberglass (with its painted gaping maw the trash receptacle) acquired one night from the Clown Museum in Delavin, Wisconsin. It’s legendary. It even made the News.

He would like it to sit in our mud room, greeting our guests with its evil clown grin...looking out the windows and terrifying the neighbor children. I feel this item is more of a “Man Cave” novelty.

Question: Is this something you feel I should concede, or banish forever to the designated Man Zone?

Awaiting your response, @ndrea

Dear @ndrea,

Coulrophobia. It's real. It's debilitating. Think not of yourself, but of the children.

Put it in the mud room.

Dear The Dad,

I have four-year-old triplets and a 2-year-old singleton. I recently let my husband go on a 10-day vacation by himself to hang out with all his buddies from college. The only reason he came home after 10 days was because he thought he had alcohol poisoning.

While he was gone, I took all four kids to Disneyland and to visit relatives by myself. Don't you think it's only fair that my husband lets me go somewhere now for 10 days, while he takes the kids to SeaWorld? Would The Mom cut you loose for 10 days of drunken debauchery so she could hang out in Amusement Park Hell with the kiddos?

Sincerely, The Greatest Wife Ever

Dear TGWE,

You birthed a singleton two years after triplets? Honey, you came to me for advice two years too late.

Dear The Dad,

My husband hates his job - truly loathes it - but has been unable to find anything else remotely acceptable. Should we consider stopping the practice of emptying our bank accounts to pay for child care and let him take care of our baby? Or rather, should I consider letting him do it? Come to think of it, maybe I should be writing The Mom about this one.

Sincerely, Nevermind

Dear Nevermind,

I'll take a stab at this first, then I'll give you The Mom's answer.

I loathed my job, too. I was an eighth grade math teacher. No one could loathe their job more than I did. So that makes me wonder this: Does your husband loathe his job, or does he loathe going to work? Because to some people, "Stay-at-Home Dad" sounds a lot like "Don't-Go-to-Work Dad." Nothing could be further from the truth. Nothing. If your husband doesn't like going to his current job, how will he feel if he lives at his next job. How will he handle it if, instead of saying goodbye to his boss every day at five, he tucks his boss in bed every day at eight. Some of us didn't exactly think that through when we made our decisions oh so many years ago.

Now here's The Mom. Her answer was a little wordy, so I edited it a bit as this post is already too long:

Dear Nevermind,

Keep in mind...stay-at-home dads...are...stud[s].

Dear The Dad,

I'm jonesing for another contest.

Think about it, John

Dear John,

The Second Annual Looky, Daddy! Limerick Challenge will begin on Monday. Get ready.

Ask The Dad: The Oh-Yes-I-Did! Edition

Dear The Dad,

I have forgotten that I like my wife. No, that's not true. I have forgotten why I like my wife. I mean, I know that I like her, but if you pressed me for a reason, the best I could come up with is that I like her mainly because she comes home most days.

I'm sure it wasn't always this way. I can't imagine ten years ago I asked her to marry me because I thought she'd be reasonably punctual most evenings.

Sometime early in our relationship I may have documented, either in a list or some kind of running narrative, a few of the reasons why I liked my wife at the time, but as I've been unpacking boxes in our new house, I haven't found such a thing anywhere. Do you know where I might have put it?

Thanks,

Brian

Dear Brian,

Try looking for it here:

Hope this helps,

The Dad

Dear The Dad,

The other day, my wife told me her job was changing. She told me the new title and the duties it carried, and then asked what I thought about the change. I stood there at the sink, a dirty dish in my hand, and told her that it sounded like a big responsibility. But really, of course, I had no idea what she was talking about. For me to comment on the change, I would first need to know what she does now. And for me to know what she does now, we would need to talk.

We don't talk. For all I know, my wife works as a hostess serving drinks at a 24-hour Go-Go bar in Newark.

Surely I once knew more about this woman. At the very least, when I told my parents that I planned to marry her, I must have had some kind of information about her, something I could tell my parents about. You know, something besides her name, where she sleeps, what train she takes, and how she looks when she's tired.

I'd like to start talking to my wife again, but I'm not sure how. Do you have any pointers?

Thanks,

Brian

Dear Brian,

Try this. Tomorrow get on a plane with her and spend the next ten days here:

Leave the kids with your parents. Do not take your cell phone. Do not take your laptop. I cannot guarantee that you will have any conversations with your wife over those ten days, but if nothing else, the sound of the waves will make the silence seem less awkward.

Hope this helps,

The Dad

Dear The Dad,

My wife was in grad school when we got married. I was a social worker being paid just slightly more per month than the indigent people I was supposedly helping. We thought we were busy. We didn't take a honeymoon, promising ourselves that we would take one as soon as we could. It has been ten years.

If being busy could be measured in shit, ten years ago we had some bird crap on our shoulders. Now we live under a turd the size and shape of Tennessee. When will we ever go on our honeymoon?

Thanks,

Brian

Dear Brian,

Go. Now. Hand your parents the kids and a 12-disc boxed-set of Dora the Explorer and go. Go while your kids are young. It's one thing to leave three little kids in the care of people in their sixties. It's a whole different matter to leave three teenagers in the care of people in their seventies. Right now, if you come home and the house is covered in puke, it's because someone is sick. In ten years, it will be because your kids tried to mix your tequila with Grandpa's oxycodone.

Hope this helps,

The Dad

Dear The Dad,

But I'm poor. I'm impossibly poor. I can hardly afford a trip to the grocery store, much less a trip here:

Thanks,

Brian

Dear Brian,

Yes, you are poor. Just like you were busy in grad school. You will never be less poor. Never. Shut up and go, already.

Hope this helps,

The Dad

Dear The Dad,

Just one more thing. The Internet will hate me if I go here:

I mean, look at it. I'd hate anyone going there.

Thanks,

Brian

Dear Brian,

Possibly, but remember: Most of the correspondence you get from the Internet usually includes the words "I'm glad I'm not you," or, at the very least, "I'm glad I'm not married to you." For over a year now, your presence on the Internet has given countless others the opportunity to feel good about themselves. They will forgive you this one time.

Now stop writing and pack. Your flight leaves 6:30 AM tomorrow morning.

Hope this helps,

The Dad

photo by yogi

Ask The Dad

I try to answer my Ask The Dad email in a timely manner, usually within a calendar year of receiving it, but some letters just tend to collect without any response whatsoever. This is especially true about letters on one certain topic. But, since I've got nothing else to write about today, here we go...

Dear The Dad,

Did I miss something? I have been searching the archives for posts on how potty training went. Spill the beans!

Spill the beans? Ask me about potty training again and I'll spill your blood. Next!

Dear The Dad,

I am a SAHM of 28-mo-old b/g twins. What advice do you have for potty training them? How did you do it with your girls? (They are potty trained, right?)

Of course they are potty trained. And they've also brokered a Israeli/Palestinian peace accord and devised a new, clean-burning, reusable fuel source. Tomorrow they are going to repair the hole in the ozone layer with a needle, thread, and a simple country-craft cross-stitch pattern. Next!

Dear The Dad,

How is that potty training coming? I was just curious because my 3 1/2 year old son will only pee in the potty sometimes and then refuses to poo in there. I am ready to ram the nearest sharp object through my head because it is making me insane.

I had never thought of shoving the nearest sharp object through my head. Thank you. That makes much more sense than my original idea. Next!

Dear The Dad,

Now that you're a father and have recently gone through some potty trials, do you view your parents differently?

Do I view my parents differently? Yes, I view them from behind this film of urine and feces that has built up on every surface of my life. Every surface except the potty, that is. Next!

Dear The Dad,

I am about to undergo the trial by fire which is potty training. We only have one toilet in the house, so I need to buy two of those little toddler potties. Any advice on which ones to buy?

Yes. Buy ones that look like the back of this:

Hope this helps,

The Dad

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Dear The Dad,

I have nearly-three-year-old twins, and am growing frustrated with the comment, “Oh, it must be so great to have twins, since they play together!”  It is great that my daughters love one another, and yes, they do play together, but no, that does not mean that having two children is way easier than having one (which is often implied or actually said directly).  I often launch into a rather long-winded explanation about how, no, two is not easier than one, but find my explanations usually only convince people that I’m a big whiner.  Any suggestions on pithy responses, or am I doomed to smile and nod?

Look them in the eye and say, "Well, it's not like the second one is a fucking Au Pair."

The "play together" comment is a frequent one, and, as someone who had a single child for about four years before my twins came, I can totally understand it. Imagine this: A singleton parent is in the kitchen, cooking dinner. The singleton child wants attention, so the child spends the entire time trying to climb the parent's leg, making a sound reminiscent of a bagpipe being shoved down a cat's throat. Sound familiar? Of course it does. But then one day, right around dinner-cooking time, the singleton child has a playdate, and all of the sudden, viola! the child and her friend are off in another room, playing happily, and for the first time that the parent can remember, cooking dinner does not necessitate a bottle of wine and half an Oxycodone. That is the image that singleton parents have when they tell you how great twins must be.

Of course, what they don't realize is that for us, that magical second child, the one that is supposed to steal our child's interest away from us, is still our child. For our twins, this is not a playdate, they are not happy to be there, and they are not excited about all the toys they see, and therefore, the second child spends all of our cooking time clamoring for our attention just like the first one does, but even more so, because now it's a competition.

But now I, too, sound like a big whiner. Oh well, maybe a smile and a nod are the best way to go. But make sure you add, "Oh yes! And their poop smells like sunshine!"

Dear the Dad,

I am a stay at home mom with year-old twins.  This is the most fun, easiest job I have ever had and the idea of returning to a cubicle when they go to kindergarten already fills me with dread.  What steps can I take now (and don't even think about suggesting that I have another baby) to find some kind of money making opportunity so I don't have to go back to cubicle hell.

You could always try drawing robots on the Internet. There's got to be good money in that. But if that doesn't pan out, might I suggest removing the spam filter off your email. Lots of delightful job offers to be had there.

Dear The Dad,

Yesterday, I called the Poison Control Hotline number when my son tried to eat a drinking bird because I had no idea what the red liquid contains other than crazy amounts of permanent dye.  Turns out that it's non-toxic; it's just the broken glass he chewed that we have to worry about now.  Trent is 21 months old. So, I'm wondering when you first called Poison Control and what the kid had eaten when you did?

Oh, my. Chewing broken glass can't be good. I hope everything turned out okay. Believe it or not, I've never called poison control for something my kids ate. Once, however, my wife brought home from a spa party (spa party?) a goodie bag full of homemade, cookie-sized fizzing bath cakes which I, not my children, saw fit to snack on the next day. I didn't call poison control, but I did call my wife at work, spewing out both obscenities and aromatic foam all over the phone.

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Dear The Dad,

I have 2 yr old twin girls and I'm having a hard time figuring out what to dress them up as for Halloween this year.  I was wondering if you had any suggestions?

Sincerely, Elvira

Dear Elvira,

I have it on high authority that the hot theme for twins this year will be buddy cop TV shows, so the Looky, Daddy! team of fashionistas have scoured the Internet for the hippest costumes for your girls this year. Here are our three favorites, modeled by Lila and Victoria.

Hope this helps,

The Dad

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Dear The Dad:

Aside from a couple cool twin moms, I find it very difficult to get together with traditional stay-at-home mothers. I've thought a lot about how nice it would be to find a couple stay-at-home dads to hang with … but I am not the forward kind. In fact, I don't even know where to find these men in my part of the country, which I'll describe as being The Last Place on Earth You Want To Be. I'm not from here and, lately I've been experiencing socializing withdrawal. Where should I go to find these guys, and how do I approach a dad for a possible playgroup (for our children), kind of like your 3-Martini Playgroup? Oh, and I think my husband would be OK with this, but what about the wives? Help!

Greatexpectations

Dear GE,

First of all, let me apologize, as I feel your question is somewhat my fault. Here I am, spending nights and naps at my computer, making stay-at-home dads the world over look cool. Exposure to my  jocular anecdotes and near-rock-star charisma have, and not surprisingly so, I might add, given you dreams of finding your very own version of me in your area,  which I am sad to say unless you live in Northeastern New Jersey, is just simply not going to happen.

Then again, since you describe your area as "The Last Place on Earth You Want to Be," maybe you do live in Northeastern New Jersey, and in that case, you can find me at the park across the street from my house. Listen for the screams.

But in all honesty, I do have some serious reservations about the mixing of stay-at-home dads and stay-at-home moms. One morning last week, my girls and I were hunkered down at Jennifer's house, pounding coffee and ignoring the caterwaul of two sets of twins and one set of toys, when the inevitable happened: We finally ran out of things to talk about. This wasn't awfully surprising since the only things we really have in common are our twins and a willingness to disguise our attitudes toward them with alcohol, but still it was a heavy blow. Now, of course, men have long had an activity for those awkward moments when they realize every topic of conversation has been exhausted, but since I had my own genitalia surgically removed and dumped in a Staten Island landfill on that fateful day three years ago when I saw that second set of heartbeats on that ultrasound, sex was not an option, which left Jennifer to fill the gap in her time-honored woman's way: Talking about feelings.

It was frightening just how natural it came to her. I haven't been back since.

So, GE, while I absolutely understand your desire to find and befriend the stay-at-home dads in your area, I strongly recommend against it. It will only lead to heartbreak. But if you still choose to do so, most stay-at-home dads can be found cowering in their basements, surrounded by slightly bloodied head-shaped wall indentions, muttering curses under their breath and missing their genitalia, while all kinds of chaos reigns above. Listen for the screams.

Hope this helps,

The Dad

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Ask The Dad

Martini Thursday turned into Hangover Friday, so I think I'll just answer an email today.

Dear The Dad,

After almost 10 years here at home rapidly losing brain cells, finances require that I need to re-enter the workforce at least part-time in the fall when my 6-year old starts 1st grade. I, like you, have an "ology" degree, which is pretty much useless, topped off by a Master's Degree that is so embarassingly stupid I won't even name it.

My question is this: do you have any suggestions for employment? I'm a great encourager, all the way back to, "Great, you made a poop-poop!" to "Yes, I love that Lego creation" (for the 40th time when each new piece is added), to standing on the sidelines at the soccer/basketball game and cheering like an idiot when they make a goal for the wrong team. Do you think anyone would consider hiring a pushing-40 overweight mother of two as a cheerleader? I'm certainly not sharp enough for much else at this point.

mommy24x7

Dear mommy24x7,

I'm sorry, but you seem to be confused about how this feature works. You see, you are supposed to ask a simple straight-forward question, then I am supposed to come up with a witty response. Like this:

Dear The Dad,

After almost 10 years here at home rapidly losing brain cells, finances require that I need to re-enter the workforce. Do you have any suggestions for employment?

Catching your pearls of wisdom, mommy24x7

Dear mommy24x7,

If you've been a stay-at-home mom for 10 years, you are probably good for only one thing: encouraging. Starting with "Great, you made a poop-poop!" to "Yes, I love that Lego creation" (for the 40th time when each new piece is added), to standing on the sidelines at the soccer/basketball game and cheering like an idiot when they make a goal for the wrong team, you can surely encourage with the best of them. Have you considered becoming a pushing-40, overweight cheerleader?

Hope this helps,

The Dad

You see? That way we all come out looking good. Especially when the pounding in my head is louder than the pounding of the twins on the lid to their daytime box.

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Ask The Dad: The Clean-Out-My-Inbox Edition

Dear The Dad,
Whenever someone is 'expecting', people warn them constantly about the poop. But, I can handle poop all day long and twice on Sundays (that didn't sound right, but you get my meaning)... it's the throw-up that I can't stand. Don't you agree?
The Godfather

Dear The Godfather,
The only way I'd agree that puke is worse than poop is if my two-year-old twins still spit-up once a day and it was my job to try to teach them to do it in a little pretend potty.

Dear The Dad,
My husband and I are having our first child in November. For financial reasons, we will both be returning to work afterward, so we are in the process of looking for a nanny/babysitter. Do you have any suggestions of traits we should look for? Any questions we should ask during the interview?
Thanks, Randi

Dear Randi,
My neighbor once had an au pair who liked to hula hoop. I'd definitely recommend that as a trait to look for. It was awesome.

Dear The Dad (and The Mom),
Over the weekend, I attended the grand re-opening of Seattle Art Museum. In their African collection they had some carved wooden twins. The explanatory text accompanying the figures went something like this:
"It is believed that twins are able to bestow happiness, health and prosperity upon their family. However, since they can also bring about disaster, disease and death, they will be treated with all due respect, loving and care. Their upbringing is therefore far more permissive than that of other children."
(Which I just lifted from here.) Does that sound about right to you?
Not Erin

Dear Not Erin,
"Their upbringing is therefore far more permissive than that of other children"? That line is so much better than the one I've been using, which is, "Until I get some fucking help around here, these kids can do what they want." And that fucking help had best bring a hula hoop, thank you very much.

Dear The Dad,
I’m wondering how you handled (or handle) the issue of your twins not taking turns (ie: not sharing, or screaming bloody murder when one takes a toy from the other) yet in the same breath one laughs when the other smacks her on the head repeatedly?
Thanks, Shawn

Dear Shawn,
When I first read your letter, I thought it was you who laughed when one of your twins smacked the other one over the head. And for a brief moment, I thought the Internet had finally brought me a soulmate. At least this time I came to my senses quickly and it didn't cost me hundreds in pay-for-chat charges.

Dear Dad,
We are about to take a long car ride for a weekend of family fun? Any advice for keeping the kiddies quiet in the back seat?
Sincerely, Hopeful

Dear Hopeful,
Only $99 and fun for all ages. Let us know how the trip goes.

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