“He’s so sassy!” That’s exactly what my Portuguese grandmother would have said about my eight year old son if she were alive today. Holy cow! He can be so disrespectful. It’s almost as if he’s resorted to his “toddler ways,” if you know what I mean. Only now his tantrums are manifested in back talk, stomping up the stairs, slamming his door, and screaming “I hate you!” [more]

I was looking through my Kindergartner’s folder the other day. It was the usual school work and notes for home, including a smily face on his behavior report. All was well until I found a small scrap of paper tucked deep in the pocket of his folder. It was about the size of a gum wrapper and scrawled across it were seven numbers. [more]

“Train up a child in the way he should go - and walk there yourself once in a while.” — Josh Billings

The other day our four year old asked “Daddy, we’ll all be dead in a million years, right?” I told him that he was right, and he then asked if we’d be dead in 100 years. I said that Mommy and Daddy would be, but that he and his brothers might still be around. His response? “Well… Then we can have all the junk food we want, because you won’t be around to stop us.” That kind of reminded me of the time that our oldest son asked if we could get a cat. He was probably five or six years old at the time. When I told him that we couldn’t because his mom is allergic to cats, he replied “Does that mean we can get a cat if she dies?” It’s good to know that we’ll be missed when we’re gone…

We’re closing in on a month since Christmas. Among other things, that means it’s about time for battery operated toys to start dying all across the country. The unfortunate thing about this is that more and more toys are now using button cell batteries, and these aren’t exactly cheap to replace. The easiest place to find these sorts of batteries seems to be at the Target or Wal-Mart jewelry counter. Unfortunately, they typically sell for $2-something apiece. Given that a lot of toys take as many as three of these batteries, getting them back up and running can cost as much as the toy itself. So what’s a guy to do? [more]

As a Christmas present to myself, I decided to wean my youngest son. My first three boys weaned almost without incident. The only real trouble I had was a blocked milk duct in my right breast very shortly after weaning my second oldest. I went to my ob/gyn and he literally milked me until the duct was unblocked. Suffice it to say this was not a pleasant experience (and anyone who has experienced a blocked milk duct or mastitis just cringed). [more]

Just when we thought we’d seen it all… A week or two ago, our three year old developed a weird rash on his left cheek (no, not the one on his face — his left butt cheek). We couldn’t figure out what it was, so we took him to the pediatrician thinking that he might have some sort of bizarre skin affliction. Turns out he had a ‘Pull-Up rash‘. In retrospect, it make sense. He still wears Pull-Ups at night, and the rash basically followed the elastic around the back of the leg opening. The cure? 1% hyrdocortisone creme. And now we have a new goal in life… To be the #1 Google search result for the term Pull-Up rash.

“Children are natural mimics — they act like their parents in spite of every attempt to teach them good manners.” — Anonymous

Earlier this week I took our eight year old son to the orthodontist. Since I donned a shiny set of man-braces about ten months ago, I am now the local expert on modern orthodontia. As it turns out, he has a pretty major underbite, and is therefore a candidate for early intervention. During his first visit they took his ‘records’ which included a series of digital photos and a panoramic x-ray. They also put spacers in front of his upper second molars. Fun, fun, fun. [more]

The other day I was in line to check out at the grocery store. I had bravely (or stupidly) made the trip with all four boys. As most parents know, the candy section and soda refrigerator that are (not so) conveniently located alongside the checkout line can be a huge enticement for even the best behaved kids (not that mine fall into that category). As things were slowly degenerating into chaos, I put the groceries on the conveyor belt and looked over to find my two oldest sons peering into the refrigerator. My oldest grabbed a bottle and, before I could stop him, he gave it a vigorous shake or two (or three or four). [more]