The chronicles and ramblings of a stay-at-home father raising his three beautiful girls, Anya Rose, Caitlin Rose and Reegan Rose.

Monday, April 25, 2011

Easter Celebration

Hallelujah, Christ has risen!  While bringing with him the promise of eternal life, he threw in some chocolate bunnies and Peeps for the kids. 

We celebrated the holiday up at my parent's house.  Luckily for the Roses, Jesus' right hand man, the Easter Bunny, stopped by their house before we arrived.  The Easter Bunny that delivered baskets at my parent's house was much more generous than the one that that works the West Metro.  While we gave the girls a small basket with a few candies, my parent went with the overflowing basket including the 40oz solid chocolate bunny.  You need a hacksaw to get through the damn thing.  While snacking on one now, I'm pretty sure I lost a filling in the bunnies ass.

Also included in the baskets were bubbles.  Seems harmless enough, right?  But not for my Caitlin...  Papa brought the girls outside to chase the bubbles and everyone was having a great time.  That is until Caitlin actually managed to pop one.  While I love that little girl with all my heart, she's not the most coordinated child.  In her attempt at popping bubbles, she ran with her arms wide so she could smash the buggers to smithereens.  Unfortunately her timing was terribly off and instead of slapping at the swirling orbs of soap, the bubbles would pass between her hands and pop in her face as she clapped.  You wouldn't think tiny drop of soap in the eye could hurt, but to poor KK it must have felt like knives piercing her eyeball.  Papa brought her in the house to console her and attempted to alleviate the pain by giving her a wet rag for her eye.  After a few minutes she was ready to get back out there and pop some more.  What are the odds such a freak accident could happen again?  With Caitlin, about 98%.  Two minutes later she was back in the house with another soap-soaked eye.  She had had enough.  'This bubble popping business if for the birds' she thought, 'I'll play it safe and blow some instead.'  As she drew the wand from the bottle it became slightly jammed.  After giving it all that her 30 pound body could give, she managed to free the stuck piece of plastic.  She withdrew the wand with so much force that (yep, you guessed it...) it flung up and hit her in the eye. 

And you know what the real tragedy of the situation is?  There was no warning on the label that these injuries could take place!  How can these bubble manufacturers sleep at night?  Sure Philip Morris peddles extremely addictive, cancer causing tobacco products, but at least you know the dangers it poses before you light up.  Big Bubble execs fatten their pockets by distributing truckloads of their products to unsuspecting families.  How many more Caitlin's are there out there, walking around with one squinted eye?  For shame Zubbles, for shame.

Tip of the Day - If you ever happen to come across the guy who came up with the idea for putting fake grass at the bottom of an Easter basket, please punch him in the mouth.  Not only does it get everywhere, but you have to pick it up by hand or it jams the damn vacuum cleaner.

Thursday, April 14, 2011

Smurfberry Update

Good news, Anya was able to return her two wagonloads of Smurfberries for a full refund.  As you may remember, my 4 year old daughter ran up a $220 ITunes bill after purchasing a bucket and two wagonloads of smurfberries.  We sent a message to Apple explaining our situation and simply asked what they could do for us.  They quickly responded explaining that they would happily refund us our money and gave us instructions on how to prevent something like this from happening again.  It is now acceptable to laugh about the situation in front of my wife (she didn't quite see the humor in it when she was on the hook for a couple hundred bucks). 

Otherwise life has been busy at the Schmidt house.  Last weekend I was reffing a volleyball tournament at the Convention Center and will be reffing there again this weekend.  While I love reffing, being at the gym from 7:00am to 10:00pm makes for long days; especially for a guy who's used to taking a good 2 hour nap everyday after lunch.  The good news about reffing is that the girls actually get excited to see me.  It's like they actually appreciate having me around (at least for the first two minutes after I come home, then I'm just the same old pain-in-the-ass Dad that their used too).

Reegan enjoys filling her water glass from the refridgerator door now.  She really can't drink out of a cup yet, but that doesn't stop her from filling an 8 oz cup with 20 ozs of water.  After she tries to take a drink, she gets pissed that her shirt is wet so she drops the glass on the floor to take off her shirt.  At least water is easier to clean up than feces.

A few weeks ago I bought some new games for my XBox 360.  Anya has taken a liking to the game The Godfather.  She has learned to insert the games and start them up.  Her favorite part of playing The Godfather is "making people dead."  No I do not encourage her to play the game, but the streets of St. Louis Park are rough and she needs to learn how to earn her keep.  Every little girl should know how to whack a goomba or silence a rat; it's just part of growing up.

Tip of the day: It is not recommended for a person who has recently given up tobbacco products to blog while three children run around annoying him.  He may say things about his children that he might regret..........hypothetically speaking of course.

Thursday, April 7, 2011

Happy Birthday to Me!

That's right ladies and gentlemen, Bo Schmidt is officially 30.  So what am I doing for my dirty thirty?  You guessed it...Nothing!  And that's fine.  I'm reffing a volleyball tournament this weekend at the Convention Center and will be working from 7am to 9pm for the next three days.  It sounds worse than it is, I actually enjoy hanging out with my ref buddies and bringing home a couple hundred bucks is gravy on the potatoes.

The one thing I am doing for myself as a birthday present it giving up tobacco.  After 13 years of chewing and smoking, 30 seems like a good age to kick the habit.  I never really labeled myself a 'chewer' or a 'smoker' (at least not on my life insurance applications), but I can't remember the last time I didn't have a tin or a pack of smokes in my possession.  A beaver doesn't cut down an oak tree with one bite, he gnaws at it for years until finally he brings the son of a bitch to the ground.  Well I'm not letting tobacco bring this oak down.  I'm a 30 year old guy with a wife and 3 kids, what better reason for me to go out hunting for beaver?
So if you want to drop me a line of support, I'd appreciate it!

The girls have been doing very well lately.  I was reminded on Monday how happy I am with my three children.  The girls and I watched my brother and sister-in-laws 2 month old baby on Monday afternoon.  There's something stressful about watching someone else's kids.  I mean my children are doomed; I f*****d them up the minute my sperm met Alicia's egg.  Other people's kids at least have a shot.  So to have Isaac screaming at me til that vein pops out of his forehead is a little stressful.  Add to that Reegan dumping a Costco bag of raisins on the floor, Anya's incessant requests to play Uno, and Caitlin's whining that the computer game isn't working and you have one out of sorts Daddy.  Don't worry, it wasn't anything a few valium couldn't fix.  A special thank you to Dr. Hackett; 18 months and your procedure is working like a dream!

Well Caitlin is smearing poop all over the toilet, so I better go see if she needs help.  But don't worry, I can assure you of three things; 1. She will be on the can for at least another 20 minutes, 2. When I ask her if she needs any help, she will snarl at me and shout 'nnnnnnNNNNNNO!!!'' 3.  It will take me no less than a half hour to return the bathroom to its original, sanitary state.

Tip of the Day: 'Never kick a fresh turd on a hot day.'  Thank you to Harry S. Truman for that little nugget of advice.

Friday, April 1, 2011

They've got it all figured out

The other day Anya came up to me and asked, "Dad, when am I going to get milk in my boobs?"  We have visited with several babies over the past few weeks and she has figured out this whole 'nursing' thing.  Before I could go into a deep emplaination of the physiological changes that take place in a young woman's body, Dr. Anya bailed me out with the following explanation: "I know dad.  You see this squishy part in my foot?  That's milk.  And as a girl gets bigger it moves up your leg and into your boobs."  She then ran off to play with her cash register.

Another Schmidt family staple has been playing the game 'up-and-down' (a MUCH different version of the game that Alicia and I play).  Alicia and I lay a blanket down in the living room and each girl gets a turn laying in the blanket.  At the count of three, we pull the blanket and toss the girls in the air.  Remember the scene from The Big Lebowski?  Yeah, it's like that, but our girls keep their shirts on.  They absolutely love it!  Reegan is hilarious.  She gets so excited to go that she flops her whole body down onto the blanket.  I would call it a jump, but her feet never really leave the air, and to me the word 'jump' implies some sort of coordination and grace; neither of which Reegan displays while belly-flopping to the floor.  

Caitlin finally sat still long enough for a haircut.  The matted crows-nest hairdo she's been sporting the past year is officially a thing of the past.  Now my blue-eyed beauty has a nice Ellen Degeneres inspired style that takes her cuteness factor up by at least three points.  She finally has better hair than this girl!

Tip of the Day:  If your friend is going to the doctor, don't ask 'What for?' unless you are prepared to handle the gory details.  This was a text I recieved from a friend when I asked why he was going to the doctor: "Its open sores on my foreskin.  It burns so bad Bo.  It feels like a million fireants having a parade from the tip of my wiener to my chode."  Lesson learned.