The Coolest Birthday Gift Ever

One year ago today, My Director gave me what I still consider, as you could tell by the title of this post, the coolest birthday gift ever. She wrote this guest post - the first ever on DKL - in honor of  my 36th birthday. She is not a writer, says she had no fun doing it, but did it anyway because she loves me. And she hit it out of the park. Today I'm 37, but this post is still just as awesome. Enjoy:

Does Daddy Know Less?

Who is DKL really? He writes freely and honestly, but how honest can anyone truly be about themselves? Well, in this first ever guest blog post, I, his wife, am here to tell you on this very special day- his birthday, who he really is.

He is indeed all of the things he says he is: narcissistic, needy and self-absorbed. But he sells himself short. He is also sensitive, kind, and loves me more than I ever thought one person could. Does he have a temper? Yes. Is he moody like a woman at that time of the month? Often. Self critical? Too much. In fact, he asks a little too often for a male if I think he looks fat (a side effect of being a fat kid growing up). But what I have always been drawn to is what is underneath that gruff exterior once you scratch the surface.

He truly is a 36 year old man.

If asked, I would have to say that one of my favorite traits about my husband is that he is a big kid at heart. He becomes whatever character the Peanut asks him to and allows that character to consume him. Whether it's Zurg from Toy Story or Aladdin her prince. It does not matter how foolish it may be. He stays in full character.

He often gets annoyed with my mom when he comes home from work and the playroom is staged from their latest pretend world. But you know what? On the days when he is home with the Peanut, what do I come home to? A pretend world and a mess. Most recently it was a train made out of chairs with all of her stuffed animals in the seats with him at the head as the conductor:

All aboard the Mess Express!

Oh, he and my mother are more alike then he would ever be willing to admit...

No one is funnier than dad.

What only enhances his being a big kid is that he is also truly very funny. No one, and I mean no one, can make the Peanut belly laugh harder than he can. Our house is filled with the echoes of "More Daddy, do it one more time" until they are both on the floor laughing. Exhausted. One of her favorites is when he collapses on her and pretends to be asleep until I come to save her and tickle him.

During a recent tour of the Ben and Jerry's factory in Vermont, the tour guide was having some very embarassing technical difficulties when trying to show a movie. The crowd was hushed. That's when my husband asked the group if anyone had checked if the TV was on Channel 3.

He got more laughs at that moment than the tour guide did the whole tour. What warmed my heart the most is how my daughter turned to me and asked with a smile on her face, "Were they all laughing at Daddy?" She was so amused by that. In that moment, I was reminded of one of the many reasons I love him.

I see his humor in her and will be forever thankful that she got this from him because laughter will always allow us as a family to enjoy each other and for others to enjoy us.

Always reminding us that
there is no reason to cry
over spilled milk.

DKL is also the person who grounds us and keeps us real. At times I have a tendency to get worked up over the smallest things. He is always the one who brings me back to reality. Reassuring me that we can handle anything.

One of my favorite pieces of advice MY father ever gave me was right before we became parents. He told me as long as we put each other first as a couple our family will remain strong and intact. He said, "Your children are of course important and you will love them more than you ever thought possible. But it is your relationship as husband and wife that is the most important. If your kids see that you are a unit and are always there for each other, your family will be stronger for it."

Now, I don't mean to brag, but those who know us often say that one of the most obvious traits DKL exhibits is his love for me. It is for this alone, that I know our family will always be alright. His ability to love. I know he has the largest piece of his heart reserved for me and next in line is the Peanut (and Luna).

We are definitely a couple who bickers, but our ability to move past our differences and always work on making us better is what will allow us to live a long happy life together.

DKL and me: Best Friends.

I don't mind that our daughter sees us in our best and worst moments together because she also sees the commitment we have towards each other.

Over the past four years, I have loved being able to see my husband express himself to all of you through this blog. I worry at times that his writing for the masses may cause him to lose himself and write to please all of you. My promise in all of this is to always be the one behind him making sure he is true to himself because to me, DKL in his purist form is the man I love and the blogger who is going to go far.

Happy Birthday to a Daddy who says he knows less, but knows a lot more than he thinks.

I have a new post of my own appearing on You Know It Happens At Your House Too today. It's a funny post about the moment I realized we can't spell in front of Peanut anymore. You can read it here.

Read more ...

THE PEANUT GALLERY: Winning the Big One

There are times when My Director will do something, pull of a feat, and I will be so proud, so full of love, so damn attracted to her. This is the story of one of those times.

We had taken Peanut to an amusement park during our beach vacation earlier this month. She's now reached the age where she gets excited for the rides and the games. And not just that silly pick-a-duck-and-win-a-prize-every-time game. Peanut needs to be challenged. Better yet, she needs me to be challenged. She also needs to be entertained. She needs to swing a mallet in an effort to send a plastic frog hurtling into a faux lilly pad.

That was her game of choice. Until she saw this guy:

"Daddy, I want to win a Minion." (Meaning, "Daddy, I want YOU to win me a Minion.")

"OK. Let's use up our tokens for the rides first, then we'll try to win you that Minion."

My Director, the realist trying not to get our daughter's hopes up told her, "I don't know sweetheart. That game is hard."

The game was this:

Can you believe I didn't get a picture of it?
So I got this one from here.

You had to throw oversized whiffle balls onto the table. Get it in the red circle in the middle, you get your choice of prize. Hit one of the blue ones, we're taking home that Minion. Not easy, mind you. But certainly nothing a world-class half-marathon-running, former backyard whiffle ball champion like myself can't handle.

The dreamer in me took over after declaring, "You can't win if you don't try, mommy."

"Yeah, mommy," Peanut chimed in. Boom.

So I ordered up the biggest bucket of whiffle balls they have. Nine for $5.

"That's a lot," was the best Mrs No-fun had to offer.

"More chances to win that Minion," I said confidently.

My first throw sank into the abyss of one of the white tubes. Then my second. Peanut failed to even reach the table. We kept asking for do-overs after her throws. The kids working the game graciously appeased us. At one point Peanut even hit a giant stuffed hot pepper that was wearing a fireman's helmet. We were, I must admit, pathetic. At this point. that Minion was a pipe dream.

"This is ridiculous," announced My Director, exasperated.

That's when she grabbed a ball and, barely looking, tossed it backhanded. Just guess where it landed. In the red hole in the middle. On the fly. ON THE FREAKIN FLY, for crying out loud. You can give me 50 balls and I probably wouldn't hit the red hole, let alone ON THE FREAKIN FLY.

My Director? First try. First toss. Barely looking. Backhanded. On the fly. Boom. I immediately started lobbying for the hot tamale with the fireman's hat. But Peanut settled for this ladybug pillow pet:

It did come in handy when we moved onto another beach house where pillows were lacking. Let me just say that thing is soft and cozy and I was as comfortable as could be in a beach house twin bed from the 1950s. Or, as Peanut said, quoting Despicable Me, "It's so fluffy I'm gonna die!"

"IT'S SO FLUFFY!"

But our story does not end there. Remember, we're here for a Minion. Peanut and I each take another turn, with no luck. That's when My Director, hot off her pillow-pet-clinching toss, grabbed another whiffle ball in her beautifully manicured hand, and gently tossed it over the rail, onto the table, where it promptly landed in a blue hole.

That Minion is ours:

Proud mom and daughter with their prize

Like I said, I was full of pride, love and a little turned on. "This may be the proudest I've ever been of you," I stated.

"Really?" She deadpanned.

"Well, besides giving birth, this is the most amazing thing I've ever seen you do."

"Yeah, mommy," said our happy little movie aficionado. "You're just like Gru:"

Read more ...

Behind Every Man...

...There is an amazing woman telling him to snap the hell out of it. And she's snapping pictures to prove her point. My Director has a new tactic to get me out of one of my patented bad moods. She'll take a picture of me, mid-mood, to show me how miserable (and ridiculous) I look. Here's one she snapped of me on the beach this week:

Pursed lips, clenched jaw: tell-tale signs

Fake smile: An improvement, but not quite out of it

Results of this new method are mixed so far, but she does seem to enjoy herself while she's doing it. And no one has been injured during the shooting of this project. Yet.

She started it in Disney World, after my monumental Splash Mountain Meltdown:

So annoyed. I just can't help it.

Funny or not, she helps me be the best person I can possibly be.


(DISCLAIMER: The rest of this post is basically a list of posts from the past year about My Director. If I tricked you into reading this far, please take a moment and check out one or two of the posts that you may have missed. Or re-read one. I'll be posting lists like these throughout the summer.)

Speaking of Disney, when we came back, My Director made cupcakes for Peanut's class at school. But Peanut had an underwhelming response to them to say the least. I wanted her to know that I appreciate how hard she works for us, so I wrote "That Thing You Do." for her.

She is the emotional center of our family. And most times, the best straight man in the business. Sometimes, however, she doesn't find my antics nearly as amusing as I do, especially when she's the "target." Prepare to laugh as you read the infamous "Shooter Dog" post.

In honor of her birthday last week, I told the story of the first time I opened up and shared some real feelings with her, and the underwhelming response she gave me: Click to read "You're My Best Friend".

She has since opened up. And even wrote this amazing guest post called "Does Daddy Know Less?" for me in honor of my birthday last year.

You know, My Director and I are a lot alike, as I learned when faced with the challenge of living a day as the opposite sex. Enjoy "Freaky Friday."





And in case you missed the post that explains why I call her "My Director," click here.

Read more ...

What the Hell Was I Thinking?

"Happiness is having a large, loving, caring, close-knit family in another city." - George Burns

I'm an ideas guy. It's how I make my living, after all. I take my and others' ideas and make compelling television out of them. But this...this was MY idea.

My Director and I decided to finally succumb to the wicked yet awesome power of the princesses, join the mainstream and take Peanut to Disney World. But when? Well, what better time than her birthday in March? We avoid a pricey birthday party with all of those unnecessary (but appreciated) gifts and make her 5th birthday (holy crap she's turning 5?!?!) special.

This, despite my penchant for penny pinching and insistence on not spoiling her. Sometimes you just have to say, "What the hell." We've realized over the past few months that due to physical, emotional, financial, and professional factors, Peanut may ultimately be an only child. So we're no longer going to wait to do the things we want to do with her. And if Peanut's going to be "all in" on princesses, we're going to be "all in" on taking her to see them if and when we can.

photo from www.wdwforgrownups.com

You may be asking, "That's the idea you're talking about? Disney? Big deal, DKL." No. The idea - or bad idea, depending on how you look at it - is going with my in-laws. Not just going with them, but staying in the same room with them.

Maybe I can sleep in that volcano

I'm not talking about a suite here, either, people. Two queen beds side-by-side with a pull-out for Peanut. One bathroom. Let me allow that last part about the one bathroom sink in again while I remind you I am lactose intolerant. One piece of cheese and I'm a ticking time bomb counting down to a volcanic eruption. Something tells me there will be multiple sightings of DKL scurrying through the lobby of the Polynesian Resort squeezing his cheeks with a newspaper under his arm. By the third morning, I expect to be on a first-name basis with the restroom attendants.

And these people - my in-laws - are old, mind you. They snore. They will probably have a lot of unusual toiletries displayed on the vanity that will cause me to become uncomfortable with a mere glance. My father-in-law has to sleep hooked up to machines because of sleep apnea.

"Your dad has to check that machine of his onto the plane?" I asked.

"Of course he does," My Director responded. "If he doesn't have it he could stop breathing and die." Well that would spoil the vacation, now wouldn't it?

Yes it was my idea. To save money... and it did. Saved us thousands. My Director was the one who hesitated. "Really?" She asked while checking my forehead for signs of fever. "Absolutely," I said without pause. "If you want the pricey resort we're staying in one room."

After the trip was booked and we enjoyed some birthday cake in honor of my father-in-law's 64th, Peanut asked for more ice cream. My mother-in-law, forever the chronic spoiler, automatically chimed in with an instant, "Oh, sure." Of course. Why shouldn't she have more ice cream? It is her birthright, after all.

"Disney ought to be a blast," I deadpanned.

Then, overcompensating, my mother-in-law, suggested, "Maybe I shouldn't go."

That's not going to happen.

What the hell was I thinking?

Maybe I'll just sleep by the pool.

Read more ...

Allow Me to (Re)Introduce...

"She was a fast machine. She kept her motor clean. She was the best damn woman I had ever seen." -AC/DC, You Shook Me All Night

There is a reason I used that line from that song to begin this post. Today my wife and I celebrate our ninth wedding anniversary. During the planning process, the only snag we really hit - except for the occasional grenade thrown by our meddling mothers - was the first dance. We couldn't agree on a wedding song.

Whenever we'd reach an impasse, I would suggest the song above to break the tension. To this day, my wife will point to herself and give a sarcastic wink and thumbs up whenever we hear it.

We rejected a lot of good songs, in fact. Among them, "Crash" by The Dave Matthews Band. This was the early favorite. If one song was our song at the time, this was it. But we didn't feel comfortable dancing in front of family, especially some of the older folks, to lyrics like "Hike up your skirt a little more and show your world to me."

Then there is "Lovely Day" by Bill Withers. This would have been it had either of us possessed any sort of rhythm to confidently fast dance in front of 200 people. We settled on "Someone Like You" by Van Morrison. Sweet and simple:

I've been searching my whole life for someone exactly like you.
Someone like you to make it all worthwhile.
Someone like you to keep me satisfied.
Someone exactly like you.

Our search for a wedding song is similar to my search for a new way to identify my wife in this blog. After all, I refer to our daughter as "the Peanut." It only seems right that my wife has a snazzy nickname of her own. But for months I've been hitting the same dead end.

My Muse/Boss/Editor chose this picture 

Here are the contenders:

I describe her in my about page as "My Muse." But that's only part of her role in my life. A big one, but just a part.

"The Editor?" She does have final say over what gets published in this blog. (So she thinks.) But that makes her sound like she stifles me. She doesn't.

"The Boss?"  Too trite and cliche.

I toyed with "The Megulator," which is a play on her actual name. Her brother and I often use this name to describe her when she's being particularly anal, controlling, and bossy. But no. Only we get to call her that.

This year as a joke, I started referring to her as "the lady I live with" in status updates on my personal Facebook page. Or "The Lady" for short. This in response to an app that told me the word I used most often in status updates in 2010 was... drumroll... wife.

She is a constant source of inspirational and humorous material.

She runs our family. She's in charge of the finances, the calendar, and most important... she keeps us emotionally centered.

In her actual job, director is part of her title. She manages several departments and a staff of eighteen people.

My Director & the Peanut

In my job as a television news producer, there may be no other person who is more crucial to my show's success (and to my sanity) when we are live on the air than my director. He or she has bailed me out countless times when things could have gone terribly wrong. Carried me when I was not at my best. We're in contsant communication. But sometimes we communicate without even talking. My director is always looking for ways to make me and my show better. My director always has my back.

Our life is a show. I am its producer. But I couldn't do it without... "My Director."

Give her a round of applause, and please make a note of it in your programs.

Happy Anniversary to the girl of my dreams. And the best Director I've ever had.

(Luna, incidentally, will always be simply referred to as...Luna)

Read more ...