Girls

Now that I have been in the saddle for a while now with being a dad to two little ladies, I thought I would take some time to reflect.  Admittedly I would say I am a dad’s dad, a guy’s guy, a man’s man.  I’m far from proper and there is no doubt that I’m rough around the edges.  That’s just me, that’s how I was raised, so that is how I am.  My first child was a boy, so there wasn’t much of a transition for me on how to teach him to grow up to be tough.  I was, and still am, mean to my son all the time.  And by ‘mean’ I am referring to the biblical sense of the world.  No mercy, strict, and will smite him at a moment’s notice if needed.  I would say that having daughters has softened me up a little bit with my son, but that’s just not true.  Just ask Mrs. Justadadslife. Almost every day she calls me to the principal’s office to discuss my transgressions, and then I’m subjected to corrective actions.  I wish I were lying, them damn rulers hurt.

When my first daughter came along, I thought that I would be able to carry over some of those same scare tactics. You know… military style, break her down to build her back up type stuff.  Real Major Payne like.  Telling her bedtime stories like ‘The Little Engine that Could’, you know the one about how the little engine was chug chugging along until Charlie rigged the bridge with plastic explosives then an ‘BOOM’ and explosion happened.  Blood and guts and spit and ass was everywhere…  You get the point, but in the words of the great Moana’s grandmother… ‘Nope’.  The day she came out of that honey hole and I saw those beautiful dark brown eyes, I said that she could do no harm in this world and anyone that was mean to my baby girl would have to face me.  Soft, I melted like warm jelly.  Then like all newborn babies, she turned into just a regular baby.  Basically all that cute shit started to wear thin over time because we ALL know that ALL kids are just little assholes, but time heals all and heels hurt to walk in.  Like everything though, as time moved on, we were able to form our little routines and get into a groove.  One boy and one girl, easy work.  I felt I was in a good routine with drop kicking my son in the face, and politely raising my voice one octave to my little angel.  Then out of nowhere, completely surprised, we had another baby (#cryingemoji) and my second daughter was born.  Seriously guys, there was zero warning.  One day I had two kids and the next day I had three.  WTF, I wish the world would give you some kind of warning or notice about these things.  All I could think about is how these kids were multiplying like gremlins.

With the new baby I expected that it would take me some time to get up to speed on the whole ‘baby thing’ again, but I really didn’t anticipate a total brain reboot.  When my second daughter came out of the ol’ hoo-ha hot pocket, the nurse tried to hand her to me.  I just looked at her confused.  I was like Ricky Bobby ‘I’m not sure what to do with my hands.’  Mini panic but I got it together and held my little lady.  It really only got weird when I tried to breastfeed her.  Look, don’t judge… I told you my brain was rebooting.  Over time it all started coming back to me, and by ‘all’ I mean bits and pieces.  I really just winged the rest.  Skip to present day and I feel like I’m back playing at an elite level, no off the bench points for ya boy.  Although it’s not always easy being outnumbered and living in a house with three girls, I manage.  With two of the girls still being pretty young, I only have to deal with their constant shrieking, crying, wanting, and whining.  The real deal major girl nonsense issues come from the oldest girl in the house (Mrs. Justadadslife), but I can’t do much about that one.

I’m not even going to pretend that living with 3 women under one roof is easy, it’s not.  There is always a different personality to deal from each of them on a daily basis.  One minute they could be happy and then the next minute they could be crying over the dumbest shit.  It’s always something.  My wife is upset because my son is not listening, my oldest daughter is upset because fish can’t walk on land, and my youngest is upset because babies are assholes.  All day it’s one problem after another.  What do I do you ask… Survive.  Do you really think it takes 30 minutes to go to the bathroom, or 3 hours to cut grass, or half a day to replace the plutonium powered nuclear fusion reactor on my truck?  Fuck no, but they don’t know that shit.  I gots to do what I gots to do to get some peace around here, you catch my drift?  Outside of the complaining my one major issue with these ladies is the HAIR.  Yes, hair.  That shit is everywhere, and I mean everywhere.  I would love to just have one day where I don’t pull a long piece of hair from under my gooch (gooch – space between a man’s tatter tots and balloon knot) or pull a piece from around the ol johnny rocket.  Do you know what it’s like to pull a LONG piece of hair through your ass crack and feel it glide over your Caribbean starfish?  Let me tell you, it’s invigorating and disturbing at the same time.  Very confusing I tell you; I hate questioning my manhood.

Honestly though. now that I type it all out, having 3 ladies in the house really isn’t all that bad.  So what I’m living with 3 different reincarnations of the Joker or that I have to pull pieces of hair out my double dutch fudge factory sometimes.  I’ve always been one to be up for a challenge, so bring on the tampons and romcoms.  I got this.