Frat Party

I saw this via Facebook and thought it was hilarious!

10 Reasons Why having a Toddler is like being at a Frat Party:

Check it out {HERE} or just keep reading...

10. There are half-full, brightly-colored plastic cups on the floor in every room. Three are in the bathtub.

9. There's always that one girl, bawling her eyes out in a corner.

8. It's best not to assume that the person closest to you has any control over their digestive function.

7. You sneak off to the bathroom knowing that as soon as you sit down, someone's going to start banging on the door.

6. Probably 80% of the stains on the furniture contain DNA.

5. You've got someone in your face at 3 a.m. looking for a drink.

4. There's definitely going to be a fight.

3. You're not sure whether anything you're doing is right, you just hope it won't get you arrested.

2. There are crumpled-up underpants everywhere.

1. You wake up wondering exactly how and when the person in bed with you got there.


There were a few comments that had me laughing as well:

- Someone is singing a song completely out of tune and getting the words all wrong.

- People have to use both hands to climb the stairs.

- You hear the same stories 20 times in a row. Then you realize you're the one telling the same story 20 times in a row.

- There is that one person who finishes off whatever is left in everyone's cups.

- There is a girl who comes out of the closet wearing a boa and plastic heels.

- There is a handful of pennies and a PB&J in the DVD player and no one knows how they go there.

- Someone is always trying to take your keys from you.


And my personal favorite:

- You lie to your parents about what's going on at your place.



*Picture shamelessly pilfered from HERE

My Dad

FYI: Marathon Post Up Ahead!

My thoughts have been turned lately toward fathers, especially since I just saw mine last weekend. So in honor of Fathers' Day, I would like take a moment to document what my Dad means to me.



I think of that John Mayer song when he sings "fathers be good to your daughters." [Listen/Watch] I know some feminist women take up issues with that song but I really like it anyway. A lot of women I know didn't grow up with strong and healthy relationships with their fathers and even though I'm no psychologist, I think the mixed feelings about their self worth and/or what I like to call "man issues" are the sadly the results.

I was blessed to have a good relationship with my Dad. It wasn't perfect but I never felt less for being a girl. He is a fairly sensitive man although sometimes oblivious. He is very affectionate, always giving us hugs and telling us he loved us. Still to this day if I get to walk and talk with my Dad, I like to link my arm in his or put my head on his shoulder when I'm sitting next to him. He has always loved me for who I am and never asked for anything else. Here are a few memories and things I love about him...

First off, if there was ever a problem with a boy he would take our side no matter what. Not like, "Want me to get the shotgun?" or anything close. Rather, he was quick to lend a listening ear and let us cry if we needed to. A few times I saw that he had tears in his eyes. I'm sure he had no idea what to do or say but it pained him to see me truly hurt, boy problem or not. Although he never said it (and never will), I knew that no man would ever be good enough for his daughter. Even to this day when I speak with my Dad on the phone, he asks if Eddie is treating me right. It's not that he doubts, it's that he wants confirmation that things between my husband and I are good. He wants to know his little girl is being taken care of. After all, it was once his responsibility to watch over and protect me but now it belongs to someone else.

One time, I didn't get asked to a school formal. My Dad was under the impression that I was going because who wouldn't want to ask his daughter out, right? even though I never asked him for the money to buy a dress or anything (thus, the obliviousness I was talking about). Either way, he called me up the afternoon of the dance and asked what time I'd be home that night. I told him I wasn't going because no one asked me. What made it worse was that I was told by a friend that this boy I liked from another school was going to ask me but it never materialized, so I really had my hopes up about going. I could tell it was one of those 'tough' parenting moments and maybe a little awkward for him. He asked if I wanted to have some girlfriends come over to have a girls night but I told him I didn't know a single person who didn't end up going. He realized the predicament I was in then asked if I wanted to go to dinner and a movie that night instead. I knew this was his effort to make things better even though he questioned the lameness of going out with your Dad on the night of a school dance. Though, deep down, that was exactly what I was hoping he would offer. We went to a diner, saw a movie and browsed a bookstore afterward. He even offered to fund some retail therapy but I just needed to feel loved and important, like most girls do. Besides, the stores were already closed.

My Dad is really intellectual and quirky because of it. I like that. Still to this day I have a certain affinity for so-called nerds and absent-minded professor-types, especially math geeks. In fact, my Dad told us girls to always be nice to 'nerdy guys' because he used to be one {and maybe still is}. He told us that a pretty girl who would befriend them could bring out their personality and help raise their self confidence in social settings since the majority of them are quite shy and introverted. I know this might sound a little twisted, but I think that because I actually believed him on this one, I never underestimated my influence for good in the lives of others as a woman. Math geek or not, it made me aware that everyone can use a friend.

Another thing my Dad would do, and still does, is tell my sister and I when we looked nice or pretty. It was never something that went to my head though. I always assumed he was trying to be fair in his compliments because my younger sister was always the pretty one. His compliments go hand and hand with his positive attitude. After my parents divorced, my Dad was a broken man. Unfortunately, I witnessed a few of his darker moments. It's a bit disappointing the day you realize your parents are in fact, human. But I think through watching him pull out of his depression to become a champion of the power of positive thinking was something that resonated with me on many levels.

For example, if our soccer team was losing, my Dad was the parent cheering the loudest. Oh and he wasn't cheering the 'normal' cheers like 'Go team' or whatever. He was shouting things like, "Think positive, think positive!" "Don't give up hope!" "It might be tough now but you can do it!" "Work together and believe you can make it happen!" I mean, it was right out of a self-help book. Yet even now if I feel myself doubting my capabilities whether it be in a triathlon or school or in the challenges life presents us; even though I'm a realist at heart, I can sometimes hear my Dad's voice chanting "Think positive, think positive!" And so I become optimistic.


For a long time I took a lot of this for granted. Most of my friends had cool fathers and by cool I really mean quirky. Mine was no exception. All my friends (all the girls at least) never failed to mention how much they loved my Dad. As I got older, I realized that not all Dads are as sensitive, forgiving, and loving as mine. Not all Dads compliment their daughters on their appearance, give them hugs or tell them how much they are loved. My Dad is not perfect; he has his faults, weaknesses and challenges like the rest of us. But I am grateful he is my Dad and I love him very much.

The Singular of Lice is Louse

The things I never wanted to learn first-hand are proving to come through all kinds of parenting experiences. Got a message on my cell phone from Zac's teacher. He has lice. I have no idea how they got there but got itchy just thinking about it. Come to think of it, just the other day Jadon told me his friend M had the answer as to why Jadon might be itchy all the time. "He told me that maybe I have lice and that's why my head itches a lot." And I thought it was just Jadon's nature to itch (and if you know him, you will also know that is a perfectly sound statement).

So I picked Jadon up from school, told him we couldn't go over to Papa's (didn't want to contaminate the cousins) and he was sad. Luckily a Slurpee made it all better. Took the boys home, inspected Jadon and he had more live ones than Zac. Spent literally hours treating their hair, cutting Zac's (it was in his eyes and needed a cut anyway), then took their hair to a fine tooth comb. Those things don't even look like they have space between the teeth at first glance.

Once Eddie got home, we vacuumed EVERYWHERE including all the furniture, washed EVERYTHING and even threw every pillow in the dryer. We sprayed our bed, car and furniture with anti-lice stuff. Good times.

I told Eddie it might be a good idea to treat our own hair with the lice shampoo just to be safe so we did. And while I combed through my hair, three came out. Yes, three lice. I don't even want to know what else is in this mop top of mine. For a split second I contemplated shaving it off a la Brittney Spears sans mental breakdown. One day I will, that and have dreads. But today was not the day.

I'm deciding whether or not this was worse than teething. Potty training remains at the top of the Parenting Black List but this lice thing might be a close second.

I feel dirty.

Things Unsaid

I often marvel at the words spoken at funerals for those who have passed on and wonder if those things were left unsaid in their life. Recently, I wrote an evaluation for a teacher of mine and sent it in anonymously as I was instructed. However, I wondered if maybe this teacher could use a pick-me-up before the quarter was over and I wanted him to know it was from me. I didn't want the way he has impacted my learning experience to go unsaid or to to be said after the fact. So I went ahead and sent it to him in an email.



Coincidentally, that very same day, I received note from a friend of mine at the Institute...

Dear Emily,

...You've shared many wise words with me this year that I truly appreciate, about your family, in Tuesday night class, and most of all of being a daughter of God.

I look at you and your relationship with your husband and family, and see it as a wonderful goal for my own future. Really, we are blessed to be around you! It gives me courage to see a strong, contemporary, eternal marriage of such equality and respect between you and your husband and your children.

I can't express this well, but I am relieved and encouraged to see a woman of such an independent spirit in a loving family that supports you as you love and support them. It gives me courage to go forth in faith!

I chose to share this not to glorify myself in any way but to show that it does much more good to say things now, in the present. I am grateful this friend of mine told me about the effect I had on her. If she didn't tell me, I would never have known.

"Kind words not only lift our spirits in the moment they are given, but they can linger with us over the years." -- Joseph B. Wirthlin

Don't wait until after the fact.