From the Inflated Ego Department

Dateline: 3/1/13

C: "Dad, why do a thousand million people call me cute?"
Mr. Mom: "Because you are C.  Because you are."

Mr. Mom's head is big (literally - hat size 7 1/2).  I am glad C's is also big (figuratively).  Always keep that self confidence C.

Here's Our Number....Call Us Maybe....

But we will likely be watching The Voice, talking about The Voice, or impatiently waiting for the next season of The Voice to start.

FroFamily does not have a lot of family wide-passions.  Sure Mr. Mom has fastpitch softball/Chipotle/beer, Mrs. Dad has colon health/shopping for the best deal/Facebook, A has soccer/gymnastics/Star Wars, B has hockey/brother tormenting/recess, and C has whatever anyone else has/wants/likes, but rarely is there something the whole family can get behind.  That was until The Voice - Season 3.

This show completely took over our lives this past TV season, and it happened by complete happenstance.  Mrs. Dad and A were home on the couch and in Mrs. Dad's infinite wisdom she decided to flip on the TV.  Coincidentally it happened to be premier night for The Voice - Season 3.  Two minutes later .... ta da .... we are all hooked.

The baffling thing is that the kids do not watch primetime television, and Mr. Mom and Mrs. Dad are not really reality TV people.  We gave up on Survivor a few seasons ago, we have never watched a minute of American Idol and still can't figure out what all the fuss was about, doing anything with the "Stars" offers no interest, and we don't care if you think you can dance.  But there was/is something magical about this show, The Voice, and it is a travesty that it took us until Season 3 to embrace it.

There seems to be a little something for everyone with this show.  Attractive and engaging personalities, above average musical selections, a format built for the DVR, .... Mr. Mom (who fancies himself as a little bit of a music nerd) loves the variety of songs and interplay between the four "coaches".  Mrs. Dad secretly loves this pop-culture type of TV but has always been a little afraid to admit it (probably because Mr. Mom is such an ass and wouldn't typically want to watch it with her).  A has suddenly become a pop music aficionado and loves the Christina Aguilera chosen singers.  C thinks Adam Levine is the coolest (and so does Mrs. Dad but who can blame her).  And B immediately loved Cee Lo Green, in fact so much that dressing up like Cee Lo was his Halloween costume choice this year.

[Editor's sidebar: Halloween 2012.  It was a terrific night.  B (Cee Lo), C (Adam), Mrs. Dad (Christina), and Mr. Mom (Blake Shelton) made a good showing in the neighborhood (although "Christina" and her rack stayed home to hand out candy and "Adam" tired out quickly) and were accompanied by the beautiful Princess Leia (A) for a candy extravaganza.]

One of the great things I have come to appreciate about The Voice has been its ability to bring my musical tastes out of the pre-2000 era where they had previously been stuck indefinitely.  I mostly blame generally poor music/bad songs for more than a decade, the invasion of hip-hop, and sports talk radio.  I only listened to mainstream music on a rare occasion (i.e. driving with Mrs. Dad).  But some of this new stuff is really good, and I have now found myself turning it to good ol' 97.1 on purpose (and sometimes even 94.5 and 101.3, but that is only during times of complete craziness).

AB&C seem to know many of these songs somehow, and I wonder if today's musicians will be their equivalents to the favorites of my younger days.  Could Katy Perry be their Madonna?  One Direction is unequivocally the best boy band of all time.  Is Fun the quirky, catchy Talking Heads of today?  Now I just have to get the kids to understand that Cee Lo, Trevin, Nicholas, and Cody from The Voice do not sing Stayin' Alive, but that it is actually Barry, Robin, Maurice (R.I.P. Bee Gees - except for Barry of course who is sadly the last man standing).  And no, it is not Terry McDermott that sings Let It Be, it is actually a little band we call The Beatles.  It is a parallel bizarro universe in which I live and I am just trying to keep up.

Where the F Have We Been?

Not blogging, that's for sure.  The truth is, there hasn't been much going on since the 2/21/12 date of the last post to Milk & O's.  Let me think:

1) B turned 6 and played host to a birthday party for the ages at Tuttle's http://www.tuttlesbowling.com/.
2) A lost some more teeth.
3) The Froderkids were introduced to the fantastic world of Star Wars, and their obsession has slowly taken over our lives.  We knew keeping all those 1977 action figures would pay off someday, and Mr. Mom couldn't be a more proud father.
4) On a sad note, Mr. Mom lost his ongoing battle with the evil Captain Finance and the days of eating bon bons and watching Oprah are over.
5) B got in a fight with the coffee table and lost, so Mrs. Dad, in true fight doctor fashion, did some at-home superglue work above the left eye to stop the bleeding and pull everything back together.
6) Mr. Mom, Captain Finance, and Nightime Finance Consultant are trying to co-exist, thereby resulting is a serious case of schizophrenia.
7) A turned 8 and eleven of her besties joined her for roller skating at the Roller Garden http://www.rollergarden.com/.
8) B&C rocked it at the Little Flowers Spring Program, and Mr. Mom particularly enjoyed their rendition of Sly & The Family Stone's Everyday People.
9) B graduated from Little Flowers Kindergarten and will now be joining A at Gatewood Elementary, thus leaving big C as our last baby at Little Flowers Montessori.
10) FroFamily, Inc. hired a nanny, hereafter to be referred to as Supernanny.
11) A&B caught the biggest sunfish I've ever seen over the Memorial Day weekend with uncle Fricke.
12) FroFamily, Inc. bought a sweet ride (aka a minivan) for Supernanny to use for this summer's logistics needs.
13) B got in a fight with a wall in Grandpa F's hayloft, but Mrs. Dad couldn't handle this one.  It required the big guns at the ER at Children's Hospital - Minneapolis.
14) Fastpitch is in full swing and Mr. Mom is giving Mrs. Dad the annual marriage test.
15) ABC have all really taken to swimming this summer, and all are signed up for swimming boot camp aka Foss http://www.fossswimschool.com/.
16) Mrs. Dad was caught cheating on Mr. Mom when she went on an overnight trip to Denver with the dashingly handsome Captain Finance.  She must really be attracted to balding, overweight, redheads in their late 30's.

Getting Our $ Worth With Private School Tuition

"My head hurts. I did too much work at school today."
CAF 2/21/12 11:58 a.m.

Annie the Tooth Got Whacked

Many moons ago, at a different place and time in life, there was a little baby girl who commanded all of Mr. Mom's and Mrs. Dad's attention. She was the only game in town and she knew it. She has been relatively good at sharing our attention since giving way to two brothers, but ol' Mr. Mom does remember those days when there was nothing else on the agenda other than playing with this little girl. No school, no soccer, no dance, no competing siblings, .....

It was during this time that the don of FroFamily, Inc. decided that this little girl should inherit a mafioso moniker. The don, being of questionable mind and minimal cleverness, worked with what he had, which at that time consisted of an effervescent smile, a jubilant personality, a flair for cheesy faces, and one big front-and-center top row tooth. Using the obvious, the don christened this little angel to be "Annie the Tooth".

For several weeks/months, Annie the Tooth was true to this name. That one singular tooth hung in there as the lone white light in a sea of saliva. Eventually, and predictably, it was joined by other pearly whites, but Annie the Tooth she would continue to be.

That is .... until Sunday 1/22/12 when Annie the Tooth got whacked. That big, beautiful, original tooth now sleeps with the fishes, and all that is left is a gaping hole in A's mouth.

Ciao Annie the Tooth. We'll miss ya.

Hockey Day Hopkins

For all of you not in-the-know, Saturday 1/21/12 was deemed Hockey Day Minnesota by Fox Sports North. This brilliant marketing scheme has allowed a regional television station to manufacture a "holiday" to celebrate hockey. Mr. Mom is a big hockey fan. Plus, three cheers for capitalism. So, good for FSN in coming up with this idea. But the marketing blitz surrounding this day can be a little much at times for those of us sports fans out there who are listening to sports talk radio all day. Especially for a sports fan like Mr. Mom, who grew up in a repressed, unfortunate land where, last I checked, was still part of Minnesota, but alas hockey was not part of the local culture/vernacular. Regardless, this Hockey Day Minnesota idea works for Mr. Mom on several levels, and this year, one member of FroFamily, Inc. got directly involved.

Our incomparable B had his regular Saturday morning Mini-Mites hockey practice on Saturday at 8:40 a.m. A little early on a Saturday for Mr. Mom's taste, considering the prep time required by B to get dressed, eat breakfast, get to the rink, and suit up. But B is truly loving hockey, so it is more than worth it. Plus, if we didn't get him there, there would be no way we could stay in the running for the coveted Parents of the Year award.

As usual to start off the day, the kids have about 10 minutes of free skating to get warmed up and let the stragglers get dressed and onto the ice. Then Coach Chad blows the whistle and the kids all skate/coast/slide/crawl in to the pre-practice huddle at center ice. On this day however, Coach Chad tells his group of nodding and enthusiastic 5-6 year olds about Hockey Day Minnesota, and that they will be a part of this special day by helping a team warm-up this morning in preparation for a big game later that afternoon. This appeared to receive only mild interest from the kids until Coach Chad told them that, after practice, they could go home and watch this team's big game on TV. Now we're cookin'. Someone they know on TV? What could be better?

So, the curiosity of the Mini-Mites is piqued. Who is this team? We can watch them on TV? We could someday get on TV for being hockey players? This is greatest thing to hear since last night's "Who wants desert?" The Mini-Mites begin to do some practice drills and fight against their collective ADD by randomly looking around the arena to see if anything is going on off the ice. Then, through the doors of the arena walks in a group of high school boys coming from a bus. It is the #1 ranked Duluth East Greyhounds, last year's state tournament runner-up. The Hounds head into the locker room to change and the Mini-Mites start doing their drills with an added fervor. Then, with about 10 minutes left in practice, the Hounds take the ice and start flying around the rink. The mouths of the Mini-Mites drop and they watch in awe for a moment before they remember they are in the middle of practice themselves.

Coach Chad blows the whistle to signal another center ice huddle, and the little Hopkins Mini-Mites find themselves shoulder-to-shoulder, or should I say shoulder-to-waist, with these high school boys. Hounds Coach Randolph says hello to the Mini-Mites and off they all go to play in one of the most chaotic hockey scenes ever imagined. Pucks everywhere. 5-year-olds trying to score on fully uniformed high school goalies. Mini-Mites passing back and forth with 17-year-olds. 40-inch tall kids doing face-offs with 6 ft.+ giants. Simply terrific. Every face in the arena (coaches, high school players, Mini-Mites, and parents alike) had a huge smile on it. Not to wax nostalgic, but hopefully this is exactly what FSN had in mind when spearheading this Hockey Day Minnesota concept.

Too bad those nice kids from Duluth lost to the hated Minnetonka Skippers later that day. But, at least I hope they take to heart that they made a good impression on our little B and that they probably had about 25 extra Mini-Mite viewers for the game, most of which I'm sure would not have had watching a hockey game on their radar screen for that day when they woke up in the morning.

Good stuff. Plus, someone brought doughnuts for the kids for after practice. Double nice.

The Bieber, The Flock of Seagulls, The Billy Ray Cyrus, 1986 Hair Band, ... What's A Boy To Do?

So many hairstyle choices, so little time. Our boys have been working with an image consultant to find the right look for them. Not too flashy. Not too lame. Just the right amount of cool without saying, "Hey, look at me." Obviously Mr. Mom's typical greasy several-days-between-shower coif and his ever-receding hairline is of no use when looking for an example, so why not come up with their own look that works for them.

B loves to do some spiking after getting out of the bath. Classic stand-straight-up on the top, down on the sides. None of the head-caught-in-a-tornado look of today's youth. However, B does try some pretty original ideas. The other morning he came downstairs with his bangs wetly matted to his forehead while everything else was dry and normal looking. It was definitely original and clever, but unfortunately in a creepy sort of way.

C prefers the all out crazy hair, where every strand is poking straight out as far as possible, ala the I-have-my-hand-on-the-Van de Graaff-generator-at-the-science-museum look. But, C is pretty committed to the bit once he decides that today is a "hair-day". Ergo, the following anecdote.

A few weeks ago, it was one of those days when B was in front of the mirror before we left for school. He was doing some styling, sans product. This is o.k. with Mr. Mom because when it dries, it falls back to normal and we can go about our day without harm. However, this particular day, C is all-in on having crazy hair because B made it look so cool. So, along side B, we get C's hair a little wet and comb it up, with the thought that when it dries, it will fall down to normal and we can move on.

Big Mistake. When we got to school, Mr. Mom and B had already forgotten about the at-home hair styling session of the morning. However, C was apparently still committed to it. Unbeknownst to Mr. Mom, when C was in the bathroom alone doing his before school handwashing and fighting the evil germ monsters, he was also using the water from the sink to re-style his hair because it had fallen down when it dried as previously predicted. Only instead of using just water, ..... he used handsoap from the nearby dispenser to give it that extra hold he really needed. When I go in to check on him, there he stands, bubbles all over his head and hair sticking out all over, smiling like the proudest little boy ever. After a pretty big belly laugh, I wrestle his head under the faucet for, what turned out to be, a pretty traumatic rinse. Nothing like an impromptu bathing of a 3-year-old in a bathroom sink to start your day.

It's All Over For Mr. Mom

I knew it was going to happen sooner or later. I just didn't expect it to happen now.

I have always considered myself a pretty smart guy, and I think most people that know me would concur that I am not a complete drooling idiot. However, the tide is slowly turning for Mr. Mom. I have hit the ripe old age of 37 and years of excessive brain usage, not to mention the not so occasional beer, appear to finally be taking their toll. I, Mr. Mom., ..... am starting to lose to my kids in various activities.

Gone are the days of December 2008 (shown in the attached photo) when I would "let them win" the occasional game to encourage participation and foster confidence. Now I have to bring my A-game or it's over. My cloak of invincibility will quickly erode away, and a shell of a dad is all that will remain.

Up until yesterday, I had never really lost to any of my kids (except for a speed reading contest with Ms. A, but that doesn't really count because I typically read at the speed of an average 3rd grader - I'm more of a contemplation/comprehension guy). Then, last night while A is at Sunday school, B, C, and I sit down to play a memory matching game. We play the game, and per usual, I am paying about 65% attention so as to keep it close and not get all the matches but still move the game along and not have it last 7 hours. Before I know it, game over. Final score: B - 14; C - 12; Mr. Mom - 10. We do our typical post-game good-sportsmanship handshake, but all the while I'm a little thrown. What the F just happened? Then it hits me. The scales are starting to turn. There is nowhere for me to go but down.

Now the question is, what do I do with this profound insight? Do I play the part of super-proud dad, be elated that my kids are smart, and talented, and gifted, and awesome, and ...., and remain hopeful that they will end up a few rungs higher on the evolutionary ladder from their old man? Yes. That is the fork in the road that I am choosing to take.

But, just to make sure I still got it, C and I had a rematch today and I smoked him 20 - 16. In your face C.