11/29/11 Missing You

I find myself watching the news feeling that things are getting worse.  Maybe it is because we can get the news faster, or maybe it is because we see news from places we never would have seen it from before.  For example, watch CNN on any given day, and you will see a report about a random house fire in Ohio, or a car crash in New York.  I think of these kinds of stories as local news, but with the ease, availability and plethora of information these days, I guess this is a natural result.  Maybe it is because I am older now and I understand that news stories are not just stories, but they are real events happening to real people.

Sometimes when I am watching one of those real video shows and I see some poor schmo get it in the nuts, I cringe a little more and laugh a little less.  Sure they are funny and I do laugh, but I find myself wondering how long it took for that person to heal.  There is a video out there called 'gangster gets hit by an ice cream truck'.    This video is hilarious.  And when I was done laughing so hard that I cried, I wondered, did that dumb ass go to the hospital or not?

We are all affected by the news.  Some people hug their loved ones a little more, some people get a security system, some people purchase a firearm, and still some people go whole hog and buy 50 acres of land in colorado, an armory of weapons, a gas generator, cases of MRE's (military, meals ready to eat), gas masks, port-a-potties, and thousands of dollars in gold coins.  Now we have all met these people and I am not here to judge, but everyone handles their fear differently.

I know I am being a real downer, and you want to know if this is the last of the fatdad blogs before I implode, and you wonder why you wasted all of this time reading what I have written.  Just follow along, I have a really good story to wrap all of this up and if you quit now you will just kick yourself.

When I was a child it seemed like there were all of these stories about kids being kidnapped. The stories were heart breaking.  Soon after we were all inundated with missing child shows, stories, ribbons, and eventually the missing child milk carton.  

Ok here is your story.

My grandmother was a very important part of my life and probably the only reason that I came out as normal as I did, and that is a stretch believe me.

I remember we were driving somewhere, because we were always driving somewhere.  My grandmother was always very interested in how I felt about things, and we talked a lot.  As I said the news of the day was very much about missing children, and she wanted to know how I felt about it.  She asked if I knew about the kidnappings, and asked a few other questions.  I don't know if I gave her the answer she was looking for, but when we were done talking she looked at me and said, "Honey you don't have to worry about being taken because they don't take the fat ones."
Looking back at it over all of these years I am still not sure how I should have taken it.  Relieved that no one would take me or upset that no one wants a fat kid, not even a kidnapper.  I do have to say, whatever her methods, I never worried about being kidnapped.  I do however wonder what she would have said to me if I was skinny.

11/16/11 Workin' For a Livin'

Some people find their careers by divine intervention, some people say that they were born to do what they do, some people fall into their careers by accident, and still some others are just trying to avoid sunday school.

I told you before that I hated participating in religious activities, and my parents tried everything to get me to want to change my mind. They sent me to religious groups, they made me participate in religious tutoring, they sent me to the previously mentioned religious camp, and when none of that worked they tried, bribes, force, yelling, screaming, and when none of that yielded the result that they wanted my mother used guilt.  By the by, jewish mothers use guilt all the time, and this is not an just some sort of opinion or stereotype, this is a proven scientific fact.

By the time I was twelve (my bar mitzvah was completed by now) my parents had run out of ways to make me participate . So like any other parents at their wits end, they found religion, and went to the Rabbi to ask for advice.  So the scheme went like this.  My parents would give me an ultimatum.   I could either go to Sunday school and confirmation, or I could work at the family business every weekend.  So after some long deliberation and thought..... o.k. who am I kidding, my parents no more then said the words then I said, "WORK."

My fate was sealed, and I have since then always held some sort of management or supervisory position.  Now everyone claims that they would like nothing more then to be the boss.  They say things like, the boss gets all of the perks, the boss never has to take responsibility, and the boss never really has to work.  There is also my favorite comment, "I wish I was to the boss so I could (fill in the blank here)."
The truth of the matter is I have never as a manager had it easy, and I have never been able to sit and watch others work.  Now don't get me wrong, I have over the years said the same things about my past bosses, that they are lazy or stupid, but...well, they were stupid and lazy, so there.  One caveat, I will take the opportunity to mention, that after all of these years of working, I finally have a boss that I like, so the possibility of working for a competent person does exist, it is not just a myth perpetuated by all of those books about businesses.
Now I could just keep expounding on the virtues and challenges of employee / management relations, but that really is not funny or any fun.  What is fun is talking about the excuses that I have gotten from the brain trusts that want my job over the years, so I will share those with you.  Enjoy.
1.  An employee who had been late and was on her last and final warning called me with this excuse 15 minutes before she worked.  "My plane coming back from Las Vegas flew slower then normal so I won't be able to make it on time."
2.  An employee who had been sick on Monday failed to show up for their shift on Friday.  When we called the employee to see where they were their answer was, "Well I called on Monday to say I was sick that should cover me until I come back."
3.  An employee who worked the night shift called to tell me that she would not be able to make it because, "Her mother had an emergency tax situation and that she would not be able to make it in."  I have still to this day never been able to find out what an emergency tax situation is.
4.  An employee came to see me to tell me that there was a family emergency.  The employee told me that he would not be able to make it in for a few days.  Apparently someone in his family had gone missing and he gave me a card from the police officer in charge of the case if I needed to contact someone to corroborate his story.  Needless to say it took me three days to reach the officer in charge.  In the mean time I covered all of the employees shifts, and made other arrangement.  When I finally reached the officer I told him that I just needed to know if the story was true and that I did not need any details.  The officer did indeed corroborate the story but then offered this one little fact.  The missing family member was not some cousin or sister it was my employee.  He left home to live somewhere else and his parents called the police.  I let the employee go.  I am sorry you cannot call me to claim yourself as a missing person.

So If you need to call out from work, you either need to be clever or truthful, I would choose truthful.

11/6/11 Bug-a-Boo

I know with the passing of halloween that you were all looking forward to hearing about me being dragged to some party where I would make fun of my wife's friends and acquaintances.  Well just so you know I was indeed dragged to one of my wife's friends parties, and I would talk about it but something more important came up.

When I was in fifth grade, my parents, in their ever futile attempt to make me like religion sent me to a jewish camp.  You see my parents were jewish and thought that if they made me do enough jewish things that eventually I would like going to Friday night services, Saturday morning services, Sunday school, Tuesday and Thursday night hebrew school, and every holiday that came up.
So when the time came, I was shipped away from my small midwestern city, were I was surrounded by a bunch of rich W.A.S.P's (white anglo saxon princes/princesses) and I ended up in the woods for the summer with a bunch of J.A.P.'s (jewish american princes/ princesses).  Up until that time I thought that nothing could be worse then being the poor fat jewish kid in a rich white wasp school.  Turns out that being the poor fat jewish kid at a jewish camp sucks just as much.
I served my time at camp and when I was done I went with my father to the east coast to spend a few weeks with my cousins and his family.  We came home and I spent the next few weeks going to synagogue and participating in events with all of the other kids I went to camp with.
One day my godmother called and said that she needed to come over.  We were all standing in the front yard waiting for her.  She got out of her car and before she was even within 20 feet of me she said, "Oh yes, he has it."  I could not for the life of me think of what I could have that she would be able to diagnose from that far away.  She then said the word that I have come to dread for the rest of my life. LICE.  Apparently all of the jewish kids who had been sent away to camp that summer had come back with lice, and it was a disaster.  We had to professionally clean the house, we all had to be treated and we even had to have the dog shaved and dipped.
Things like this have a lasting effect.  Because of this, over the last thirty years, I have never shared a hat with another person, slept in the woods, or been able to hear the word lice without scratching my head for days.  I have also, never since that day, walked into a synagogue and borrowed a yarmulke (the little beanie that jewish people wear).  Why you ask.  Well, not only did we all get lice at camp, but we gave it to the whole jewish community when we came back.  Subsequently, they burned all of the yarmulkes and bought new ones, but all of the boys I know have carried their own yarmulkes since then.

So why am I telling you about this.  Well my oldest daughter is in the third grade this year, and every year since she started school, she has been sent home with a note telling us about one class or another where they found lice.  I have held my breath for the last three years, but this time we crapped out.
My wife called and said, "I think we have lice."
I could not believe it.  I had visions of buying a gas mask and running through the school spraying DDT everywhere.  I wanted to pull my daughter out of school immediately, I wanted to home school her, I wanted to buy nair and bathe everyone in it, I wanted to set our house on fire and walk away, and I wanted to scratch my scalp off.
What I did do is immediately turn my car around and go to the nearest pharmacy.  One hundred dollars later I had the lice killing kit.  Included was the spray for your furniture, shampoo for your head, the tiny comb to get the bugs out, some sort of gel that I have still not used, an extra bottle of shampoo and furniture spray, a magnifying glass and a sprite (I was kind of thirsty).  I then went to my local big box retailer and purchased  two hundred dollars worth of pillow and mattress covers.  We used all of the chemicals on the girls and ourselves, we bagged up all of the couch pillows, stuffed animals, american girl dolls, extra blankets, and anything else we thought the lice would live on (by the way, it has been two weeks and neither of the girls have asked where their toys or dolls are, leading me to believe that they have been given way, way, way too much stuff).  
We then washed all of our clothes, sheets, rugs, blankets, and anything else that would fit in the washer and dryer.  We ran the washer and dryer so much it looked like a consumer reports test was being conducted in my basement.
The next day my wife took my daughters to see the special lice ladies who confirmed that even though we used all of the chemicals that that my daughter still had lice.  For another $100.00 they treated her.  I spent the rest of the day re-washing and vacuuming the rugs, mattresses, and bedding.
My wife has been washing and treating my daughters hair for almost two weeks now ("Your the best honey.").  Washing it, treating it, and brushing it out, and buying $$$ more lice treatment.  After three days I felt a little better we had not seen anything.  But the day she went back to school we found two lice.
This whole thing has been such an utterly disgusting process.
I just cannot help myself.  I find myself daydreaming of burning down the school, or sending her to school in an outbreak outfit, or scrubbing down all of her classmates like they did in the movie Silkwood (you know, with the chemicals and stiff brushes).  My mother even told me to buy a jar of mayonnaise and rub it all over her head and wrap it in plastic.  She said that it would kill all of the lice, and you know what for a moment, I thought of trying it.
I know I have a problem.  I know I need help.  "Hi, my name is the FatDad and I am a germ-a-phob."
At the time of this post I do not have any advice for any of you, but I will keep you posted.
In the meantime I will try not to scratch my scalp off, or go all Silkwood on her classmates.

10/25 Give A Little Bit

Tonight I would like to take the opportunity to address a rather serious topic.  It has come to my attention that there is a condition that exists that affects almost all of you, and yet this condition has been virtually ignored.
This condition affects millions of women and girls nationwide, and yet it remains undetected and undiagnosed.  Many of your loved ones could be suffering as we speak.  This affliction affects mothers, grandmothers, daughters, aunts, and sisters without prejudice.  
The condition that I want to share with you is First Born Daughter Syndrome or FBDS.

I was first introduced to this condition by a co-worker who shared with me the devastating effect that FBDS was having on her family.  You see her own daughter was a first born daughter and her whole family was working diligently to deal with the daily affects her condition.
You see the tragedy of this condition, is that not only does it affect the person, but it affects everyone around them.  FBDS affects the sufferers friends, family, co-workers, and sometimes even perfect strangers.

I know many of you are asking why now?  What made you choose to shed light on this widely ignored and misunderstood problem?  Well I will tell you.  I come to you now because my wife and I are dealing with FBDS firsthand.  You see our....our.... our daughter has what seems like an almost incurable case of First Born Daughter Syndrome.

“How do you know?”
“What are they symptoms?”
“What can I do about it?”
Well all of these are great questions and I will try to answer them to the best of my ability.
 FBDS affects 4 out of every 5 first born daughters.
 Symptoms can vary greatly with age, but some common side-effects include:
Unexplained Irritability, Pouting, Mood Swings, Outbursts, Crying, An Unexplainable Sense of Entitlement, Yelling, Door Slamming, Eye Rolling, Hair Flicking, Loud Sighing, Incessant Back-talking, Unsolicited Opinion Making, Snotty Remarks, Stomping, Interrupting, Unprovoked Hitting of a Little Sister, Screaming “That’s Unfair!!!!!”, Making Irrational Assumptions.
 While traditional treatments are not known, there are many trials and studies being conducted as we speak throughout the country.  Some common treatments are:
Groundings, Taking Away Phone/ Computer/ T.V. Privileges, Early Bedtimes, Off to Bed With No Dinners, Shouting Matches, Spankings, Canceling Play Dates, Name Calling, Long Talks About Appropriate Behavior, Sending The Afflicted to the Neighbors to Play, Making the The Sufferer Say They Are Sorry.

So how can you help?  Well we are currently raising funds to help the Families of First Born Daughters or FFBS’s.  These monies will be used to provide support for the families by paying for such necessities as, babysitters, date nights, movie rentals, hotel rooms, and if necessary, as in the case of a severe FBDS family, trips without the children.
For example my wife and I are trying to raise money for a trip to Hawaii or even Australia.  Your donations will pay for such necessities as first-class airfare, rental cars, four star accommodations, food, and even childcare for our daughter back in the states.  So please give generously today.  We would prefer the kind of money that folds but we will take the kind that jingles.  Remember you can help.  Please make a donation today to help us meet our goal of a two week child free vacation by this spring.

Thank you.

10/9/11 Carry That Weight

I was five and it was a nice day in kindergarten.  It was one of my classmates birthday, and their parents were nice enough to bring popsicles.  These days if you want to bring a treat to your child's school, you need an act of congress, a certified note from a lab telling the school board that the food is not contaminated, and prove that the treats are gluten free, trans-fat free, free of any dyes or banned colors, are organic, free trade, made in the USA, are halal and kosher, and provide documentation that none of the food was made on or near equipment that manufactured peanuts or tree nuts.  And do not forget that the package needs to remain hermetically sealed until the moment the food will be served to the students.
Anyway...The teacher started to pass out the popsicles, and I said no.  Why you ask?  Well I will tell you.  I was on a diet.  Having the teacher I had for kindergarten (she was a cross between Mary Poppins and Gloria Steinem), she marched me down to the principal's office where I called my mother to ask permission to have a popsicle.  She said yes.
Just to put this into perspective for you, my parents putting me on a diet, is like letting Lindsey Lohan give you tips on rehab.  My wife says that may parents were just were not equipped to give that kind of advice, that people at that time did not know as much about nutrition as we do now, and that they were just doing their best.  As I said before she wears the cutest pair of rose colored glasses I have ever seen.
I think that everyone has the basics down.  If you give a child a fish he will eat once.  If you teach him to fish he will feed himself for a lifetime, and if you teach a child how to batter and fry that fish and serve it with fries and tatar sauce he will be 300 lbs. by graduation.
So what that my parents did not know about nutrition, so what they ate like crap, so what if I knew how to ask for McDonald's by name by the time I was one,  and so what if I had to shop in the men's section of the store by the time I was 8, no no, no husky jeans for this boy.  I was advanced I went straight to the mens section.  It is not that they were not equipped, it is that they were just not looking.  They did not see the signs, and they were just repeating the cycle.
I started writing our children's book because my wife thought it would be a good idea.  We had been baking with our older daughter, and she just hammed it up on camera.  The recipe that she was making that day was not just any recipe, but one we had created just for her.  When she was 4 my wife was forced to take her to the E.R. on two separate occasions.  She was screaming in pain that her stomach hurt. It turns out she was severely constipated.  So we tried the medicines, and the fiber supplements, but we got the best results when we changed her diet.  No this is not some testimonial and I am not going to be selling anything later so just follow me here.
We started by changing the everyday recipes we were already making and then we added new ones to add more fiber and vegetables to her diet.  I have to admit looking back, I feel really bad for her because the stuff we made was horrible.  The pancakes tasted like cardboard, the pasta was grainy, the boxed mac and cheese tasted like vomit, and she ate it all and never complained once.  Being a chef I began to improve the recipes and make them more palatable, and soon enough we all ate the food.  So the recipe that my wife made with my daughter that day was the cupcake recipe that we created for her, and if I do say so myself they are good.
My wife took her inspiration for the book from the cooking video, and began by writing down a few sentences and ideas she had for the book.  She then gave the notes to me and said, "Here finish this, and make it entertaining, and funny."  I obliged.
This week we sent the book to the illustrator.  I hope that it will be finished within the next few months and I will let you know how it is going as I learn more.
We put the special cupcake recipe in the book and I hope you all will buy a copy when it comes out (Oh yes I said I was not going to try to sell you anything.  Sorry I might have lied just a little.).
So my advice this week is as follows.
1.  Try to be a good example.  None of us are perfect, least of all not me, but teaching your child how to eat the fat and skin off of a freshly baked turkey is definitely not being a good roll model.
2.  If your child is intolerant or allergic, this is your problem.  For example if you go to a restaurant it is not the servers responsibility to ask if your precious little one is allergic to something.  Look no one wants to clean up your child's puke or call an ambulance for you, so be the responsible one and ask before you order something.  To be honest your server probably does not have children and would never think to ask about an allergy.  Their biggest concern is whether or not they will make enough tips during their shift to go out and drink when they are done.
3.  Look up every once in a while.  We are all busy, but every once in a while you should take a good long look at your kids.  Don't wait until conferences, or school pictures, or the big game.  Just look up from your computer, or phone, or the t.v. and just look at them.  And for the love of G-d just stop texting for a minute and talk with them.  Are they listening to you?  Are they becoming the people you want them to be?  At times I have theses little attacks and I think, what do they eat now, or how much medicine do they take, or what is their teachers name, or how old are they now?  I am not an absentee parent I just need to look up a little more myself.

10/2/11 Don't Fear The Reaper

"Honey it's time to brush your teeth and get ready for bed."  I said to my eight year old.
"O.K.." She replied.
2 minutes later.
"O.k., honey its time to brush your teeth and get ready for bed."  I said again.
"I'M GOING.  GOSH."  She snarled.  I think a little spittle came out of her mouth that time.
2 minutes later.
"Alright thats enough, it is time for you to get ready for bed!"
"CAN'T YOU SEE THAT I AM GETTING READY!!!!" She said.  This time I am sure that I saw her foaming at the mouth.
"Honey, if I could see that you were getting ready, I would not have told you to get ready again."  Now I am just being a smart ass.
"DAD, LEAVE ME ALONE I KNOW HOW TO GET READY FOR BED!!!"  She said stomping into the bathroom.
Hey at least there was some progress that time.
"If you knew how to get ready for bed then I would not have to remind you."  Now I am just being sarcastic and a little mean, but I just cannot help myself.
"DAD, THAT IS ENOUGH, LEAVE ME ALONE!!!  UUUUGGGGGHHHHH!!!!!!"  She grunted as she slammed the bathroom door.
And so goes the bedtime ritual every night at our house.

All of this leads me to the question, why aren't my children afraid of me?
Just for the record, I am not one of those friend parents.  I do not sit around with my girls and braid their hair, I do not give them manicures, I do not play babies, and I sure as heck do not talk about Justin Bieber, or Miley Cyrus.
I am the Dad.  I set rules, I talk to them about life, I tell them they cannot date or get married until they are thirty or I am dead, whichever comes first.
Don't they know I am in charge?  I dole out the punishment, I am strict, I use the Dad Voice, I even say NO!
So, why are my children not afraid of me?
My wife and I have watched Supernanny!!  We set up house rules.  We discipline our kids.  We even use the naughty chair.  Once we even took everything out of our oldest daughters room (except her bed) and made her earn everything back.
Just a note here.  This sounds great on paper, and it really makes an impact with the kids, but it is just like moving, and moving sucks.  It took us 30 minutes to take everything out of her room, and another 3 hours to find a place to put everything.  And when she was better we just had to move it all back.  I think we learned more about punishment that time then she did.
Now I am not saying that I want them to cower in fear at the very sight of me or tell the school nurse that they do not feel safe at home, I just want them to wonder what would happen to them if they did not listen.
Reprimanding them is like reprimanding those kids from the Children of the Corn, or Village of the Damned.  I tell them what to do and  they just look at me with those blue eyes and then they go about their business like I never said anything.  
Maybe we were too nice to them when they were little.  Maybe we fed them too well.  Maybe they have too many clothes (o.k. that one is a given they definitely have too many clothes).  Maybe we let them play too much.
What if it is not our fault, but some outside stimulus that caused them to not be afraid of me.  Maybe Baby Einstein gave them some sort of subliminal message telling them not to fear us.  Maybe the Wiggles had a song telling them they did not have to listen to us.  Maybe there was some Sesame Street episode with child protective services that told them their rights.  I do not know what it was that took the fear of G-d out of them, but how do I put it back?
Where did I go wrong?
To be honest I do not know, but until I figure it out here are a few tips.
1.  Timeouts do not start until the kid stops howling and crying.  The reason is, your kid will cry forever if it thinks you are coming right back.  Let them learn that they need to stop crying and calm down before they can come back out.  Also this gives you a couple extra minutes to compose yourself.  Also if they are really carrying on you can use the time to catch up on the shows on your DVR.
2.  Do not give in.  If you say bedtime is at 8:30 then it is at 8:30.  If you change or compromise then they will win and you will then be their personal servant forever.
3.  You set the rules, you set the rewards, and you set the punishments.  They are not in charge, and the minute you let them help set the rules is the first minute you give up your leadership roll.  My oldest is self-depricating.  If she does something wrong she will try to punish herself before I can get to her.  FYI her own punishments are rarely very good, and they usually give her some advantage.
4.  Be creative, not cruel.  These are your kids you know them better than anyone else.  Their punishments are not retaliation for pissing you off.  Their punishments are supposed to teach them something, so go to your room is just not a good option.  Use their likes and dislikes against them.  Take a T.V. show away.   Make them go to bed early (this one is really more for you, but it will upset them so it works).  Make them write an apology letter to the person they offended.  Be creative.
5.  Don't be afraid.  Someday you will punish them and you will get some really weird result.  But don't be afraid.  I will give you the perfect example.  Once we put our daughter on the naughty chair.  She was just howling and crying.  We put her on the chair and when we came back in she had stripped herself down to her under ware, and had drooled so much that the discarded clothes were wet and she was sitting in a visible pool of saliva that ran from her mouth to her lap.  Now normally I would have probably freaked out and taken her to the E.R. but when you are disciplining the kids sometimes you just have to roll with it.

So unless or until your children are afraid of you, just keep trying.

9/26/11 Big Time

"I think you have sleep apnea."  She said.

Just so we are all clear, I did not take this as a comment, but more as a challenge.

"I do not!  Why would you say something like that?"  I am sure she took this as a challenge, but as the bigger person she kept her cool.

"Well I hear you when you sleep and..."  

I did not even let her finish.  There she was challenging me again.

"Oh right!  Like you can hear me over your snoring!"

And there it is one of those slow motion moments in your life where you are now having an out of body experience.  You are looking at this guy who just said something completely unfathomable to his wife and you think, oh poor bastard I would hate to be him right now, and then you realize it is you and now you are screwed.

Don't think just stop, say you are sorry, say the house is on fire, say did I just hear the phone ring, say anything, but say it fast before she realizes what you just said and stops talking about your sleep apnea problem and starts talking about your attitude problem.

I went with, "I'm sorry.  Why do you think I have sleep apnea?"

In case you are wondering it worked.  And I avoided another episode of "Why are you such an asshole?" staring me.

And that is how my current diet got started.  It turns out I was 271 lbs. ( that is the equivalent of 9 toddlers).  I had fallen off the wagon again.  I had gained back 30 lbs. of the 40 lbs. that I had lost on the last diet which was started by the "Great Airplane Ride Event."  

That was the diet I started after flying across the country for work.  I got on one of those little planes and the stewardess came through the air plane walked down the aisle turned around and said, "Sir you are going to need to move to the other side of the plane to balance it out." Well hell I did not want to crash the plane or look like a bigger ass so I moved to the other side of the plane, but come on!!!  What is there some kind of class the stewardess takes in training?  Is there a manual or chart that shows the number of regular people on one side of the plane and how many fat people that is equivalent too.  

Anyway I digress.  So now I am on the "You poor bastard.  You have sleep apnea diet."  Which was proceeded by the "Great Airplane Ride Event."  Which was proceeded by the "You should see yourself in these pictures from your friends wedding diet."  Which was proceeded by the, well you get the idea diet.
So this diet began by me going to the gym, meeting with the trainer, and doing that funky treadmill thing with the stupid ass mask on your face test.  You have all seen it, and by the way it is as expensive as it looks.  Turns out I am as out of shape as I look.  I got my results, and my new workout regimen and I was off.  Not so fast fat boy.  It turns out I would need to buy one of those straps and wristband to monitor my heart rate.
Lets talk about the fat guy with the heart rate strap under his t-shirt.  I had to endure much ridicule growing up as the fat kid, and there was more than one of my classmates who made the, "What are those C cups?" comment to me.  So having to walk around with what looks like a bra strap under my shirt definitely made me want to go to the gym day after day.
Well I have gotten over it and I am down twenty pounds.  I have also been running regularly.  I have gotten my heart rate down.  I have been eating better, and I feel pretty good.
But now is not the time to relax.  We are at a critical juncture here.  I am down twenty, but I have plateaued.  I have not lost weight in weeks, and honestly I would like to eat, well everything.
Don't judge me, I'm fricken hungry.
So a couple of things I have learned.
1.  The treadmill test does work.  You look like a total fool, it is uncomfortable, and god knows you do not want to hear the results, but it works.  Also this is the point where if you know nothing about working out you might want to make a couple of additional appointments with a trainer to get started.
2.  You will have to change your eating habits.  Write down what you eat, it will help.  I am an emotional eater.  Happy, sad, tired, angry, board, or hungry, all of these emotions make me want to eat so I need to combat my emotions.  I try to eat the same things during the day with little variation.  That is my new habit, but you will have to find something that works for you.
3.  Yes, you are the fattest person at the gym.  No there is no one fatter than you at the gym.  But guess what you are also the fattest one at the office, the fattest one at the store, the fattest one in your car, but not the fattest one on the rides at Disneyworld because you are too fat to fit on the rides.  The reality is you will never not be the fattest one if you do not go to the gym and try.  Another reality is, WHO GIVES A S---.  Why do you care what some steroid freak, or some anorexic chic thinks about you.  You have your own friends and family, and if you are going to the gym to make friends then you will never lose any weight.  If you want a friend get a dog.  If you want a date get online or do whatever people do these days to find a mate. But at the end of the day go to the gym for you.
4.  If you gain weight it is not muscle.  Change your diet, try something else, but I assure you it is not muscle.  But do not quit.  Keep going to the gym.
5.  If you go, and you try, and you do not  quit, you will feel better.  Through the sore feet and legs, back and arms, chest and whatever that part of your body is that you do not know the name of, there is some part of you that will feel better even if it is you brain.

Finally, do not let this diet be one more diet in a long string of diets, make this one a process, a journey, an I don't know, pick an uplifting Oprah word and stick it in here.  This is not an event.  If you screw up one day that is not the end of it.  That would be too easy.  If you screw up, you just keep going.  If you screwed up at work you don't quit every time and look for another job, you keep going.  When you screw up with your spouse you don't just go find another, you might want to but you do not, you just keep going.  So this is the time, and here is your chance, keep going.

9/15 Every Pair of Rose Colored Glasses Has it's Thorn.

So my wife is this amazing person.  She thinks the best of everyone, and is one of those people who you would truly like to have as a friend.  She believes that all of her friends are beautiful, all of their children are cute geniuses, and all of their husbands are stand-up guys.
Now these rose colored glasses of my wife do have their up side.  For example I ended up getting a pretty woman to marry me.  Now I am definitely no Brad Pitt, but I am also not a circus freak, but if you would see the two of us together you would wonder what the hell she was thinking.
It is kind of like the movie Shallow Hal.  (If you have not seen it, it is about a shallow guy who judges people by looks only, he ends up getting hypnotized and from then on can only see people for who they are on the inside.  It's pretty funny, and at the end of the movie you get to see what the people really look like, which adds to the humor.)
So anyway the problem with my wife's rose colored glasses is, in real life, many of her acquaintances are not nice, smart, funny, cute, or honorable.  Now my wife does not get hurt by any of this but I do.  "How?" you ask.  Well I will tell you.
1.  I am the one who is forced to go to the local gathering where I am left to talk to the stand-up husband who is actually a boar, a drunk, a moron, or someone who I just have nothing in common with.  (Ladies, just because you like someone, does not mean your boyfriend, husband, or significant other will enjoy your new friends family.)
2.  I end up with children at my house who are actually the spawn of satan sent to torture me.
3.  Inevitably I am forced to make small talk with the moms, every time I see them, who are more like Cybil on crack then Oprah.

So a few tips on how to handle your significant others rose colored glasses condition.
1.  Don't talk about your significant others friends or acquaintances.  It is ok to let the other person know how you feel, but then drop it.  You will not do anything but make your partner feel bad about their choice, and you will get absolutely nothing out of voicing your opinion.
2.  Have your partner make plans with their train wreck of a friend that do not include you.  This is a good night to go out with your friends.  Or better if you have children, tell your partner that you will watch the kids so that they can go out.  This will accomplish a few things.
     a.  You will not have to go out with the bane of your existence.
     b.  You will look like a champ for offering to take care of the kids and let your partner go out for the evening.
     c.  This will let your partner know that you care about them no matter what kind of train wreck they pick as a friend.
3.  Look in the mirror.  You might actually be the pain in the ass friend, or you might be the owner of one.
By following these tips you can keep the peace at home, show your support for your partner, and if you really want you can each keep the friends that annoy your partner to no end.

9/14/11 Paint The Fence.

So my wife and I decided to paint our own house.  We figured we've done everything else ourselves so why should this project be any different.
After a long process of talking about what color to paint the house, my wife picked a color and it looks great.  "Thanks honey your the best."
Anyway a few tips for you before you start.
1.  Try out the paint color first.   You do this by painting a big enough sample area so that you can really see what the paint will look like.  You need to do this because those little sample swatches that you get from the paint companies are not the same color as the paint you get.  It may bare a close resemblance to the paint color you want, but I assure you it is just not the same.
Another fun thing you can do is pick the most obnoxious paint color you can find and slap it up there with the regular paint colors that you are considering.  No, I do not think that you will want to paint your house some weird color, I just think it is fun to mess with the neighbors.  You can even go so far as to ask them what they think.  Tell them how much you really like the odd color, and then go ahead and paint your house the conventional color you really like.
If you are one of those people who really likes the odd color you need to just go with one of the other colors.  No one wants to see your violet, or pink, or barn red house, and no one thinks that you are a nonconformist individual who marches to the beat of their own drum.  In fact everyone will think you are a pain in the ass who just brought down the price of every house in the neighborhood.
2.   Make sure you clean the exterior of your house.  Paint does not in fact stick to dirt no matter how much you put on.
3.  Make sure you cover the stuff you do not want paint on, bushes, bricks, windows, sidewalks, your car.  Lets face it, unless you worked as a painter at some time, you are just not as good at painting as you think, and no matter what you tell your wife you will still have to clean a window or paint a frame if you do not cover them now.  And god help you if you paint something important to her.  By the way you will not know what that thing is until after you have painted it so do yourself a favor and just cover everything you do not want paint on.
4.  Finally, and I know there are many, many, many more tips, but this is the last one for me.  So here it is, do not throw out the empty paint bucket.
Why you ask?  Well, because the bucket has all of the information you need on it to buy more paint.  And I do not care how organized you are, you will not be able to find the little paint swatch that has the paint name and number on it.
A.  This will lead to you turning your house upside down looking for the paint swatch.
B.  Which will then lead to a fight between you and your beloved, where you will blame each other for losing the paint swatch and throwing out the paint bucket.
C.  And finally, all of this will lead to you peeling a big piece of paint off of your newly painted house, so that you can have the little paint match machine at the store match your originally chosen paint color.

By the way these same rules apply to painting the inside of your house.  So use these tips in good health and try to finish one project this week.

8/28/11 So What is the Fat Dad Project Anyway?

Well the Fat Dad project is about me, about you, about everyday life, and about all of the things that I am working on.  

We will talk about,

Cooking and eating.  I went to culinary school and at one time I cooked for a living, but I like you know that cooking at home for a family is different.  Every week I will  try to share some recipes, secrets, and advice about cooking for you and your family.

We will also talk about:.  

Our wives,

I am no expert, but I have been with my wife for 20 years now, and I have learned a few things over the years.  

Our children,

I have two children and I have managed to help keep them clothed, fed, healthy and alive for this long so we will also talk about them.

Our homes,  

My first home was a 1978's split entry townhouse.  After remodeling it with my wife, I vowed that I would never buy a fixer-upper, a split entry, or a 70's home again.  Well imagine my surprise when I purchased my second home a foreclosed, split entry, fixer-upper, circa 1979.

Ourselves,

I have been working on myself for quite sometime and I will let you know how I am doing.  For example, we will see if maybe I can finally lose those last stubborn 50-60 lbs that I have been working on.

I would also like to share another project with you that I am working on.  I wrote a children's cookbook, I think that it is unique and different, and I will let you in on the process of getting it edited, illustrated, and finally (and hopefully) published.

So the Fat Dad project is about me, trying to make it, and trying to better myself.  I hope that I can help, educate, and maybe inspire you along the way, and if not, hopefully you will get a few laughs out of my life.