A Christmas Potty Training

A Christmas Potty Training

On Christmas Day, my son Frankie will be exactly 22 months old, so basically a grown man. As such, I have very high expectations of him which include, but are not limited to, doing things I can brag about on this blog. Fortunately he has my genes so he excels at everything.

Research says that most kids are physically and emotionally ready to start toilet training between 22 and 30 months. I also read that boys are typically a few months behind girls which I assume to be utter nonsense because, well, I’m male and look at me. So, my wife and I had decided to begin toilet training when Frankie turned 2 but we did put some things in place much earlier.

Back in August we bought a potty and put it out for him to “get used to”, which took approximately 30 seconds from the moment I opened the box.

potty2

They say that some kids are intimidated by or scared of the potty, but how a small plastic chair becomes the stuff of your child’s nightmares is beyond me.

Are there toddler classes that teach wussiness?

Is there a “Beware Of Unthreatening Inanimate Object” book series?

Do ‘The Wiggles’ have a song that goes
“Hot potato, hot potato. Cold spaghetti, cold spaghetti. Dangerous potty, dangerous potty”? 

I choose to believe that I don’t live in a world where any child has to fear a potty. In fact, if your youngster is terrified of the toilet, I volunteer F4 to come over and fearlessly sit on it to prove to them that you suck at parenting.

Although we’ve not yet started formal potty training, we have been encouraging him to sit on it. Most of the time he’s clothed, or at least in a diaper, but on occasion he’s full birthday suit when he chills. 90% of when he squats on the pot is when we’re brushing our teeth because it’s important that he understands efficiency. In fact, I’m writing this blog on the toilet while simultaneously brushing my teeth, Snapchatting, and doing burpees. You’re not on my level.

I also call F4 into the bathroom to watch me pee and poop because I’m highly skilled at both. So the other day I didn’t think anything of it when he stood fascinated by my manly display of urination. However, a few minutes later, when Lisa asked if he wanted to go potty like daddy he sat down on his tiny plastic throne. I watched my little guy look down at his penis like —

mengoats

For a moment I thought he might have fallen asleep

4goat

I wasn’t really expecting anything when suddenly down in the potty I heard pitter patter. I sprang to the floor to see what was the matter. And what to my wondering eyes did appear but beautiful spray of golden pee my dear.

My sub-2 year old son taking the initiative to go in the potty for the first time almost made me pee myself. He looked up at me and mommy with an expression that could only be seen as, “Did I do good?”

f4pride

The wife and I both screamed like we’d just won the lottery. Frankie caught on and quickly realized that the answer to his question was an emphatic YES. My boy made me very, very proud. For once, I wasn’t the little crybaby that teared up over a milestone. Lisa, however, could not control her eye bladder and let out a few drops of her own. It was a few hours before we came down from our urine high and dreamed of a day when he’d poop in that very same potty.

Yeah, that happened the next day, right after he peed again. Granted, it was only one tiny turd, but he did it nonetheless. Talk about some next level shit. He went pee pee in the potty again that night and the following morning. That was 3 days ago. Since then, every time we ask if he wants to go sit on the potty he casually says “No” and keeps on keeping on. There’s part of me that wonders if he only did it to prove to me that he could. To make a point. To say, “Dad, you might be the king of all things, but I’m coming for your crown.” If that’s the case, so be it. I’d be happy to concede to my son in this Game Of (Porcelain) Thrones.

4throneThe wipe is dark and full of terrors.


If you haven’t yet please give a listen to my podcast, Bad Ass DadCast. Episodes are posted here on the blog on (mostly) weekly basis. It’s just fun conversations with other parents, authors, and experts to discuss the experience of raising kids.

And join me on social media at:

Instagram: @FrankPrather

FB: ABadAssDad

Snapchat: Frank Prather

Halloween And The Kiss Of Death

Halloween And The Kiss Of Death

Frankie Four just hit 20 months old so this was his first real Halloween. I tried to ease him into it by taking him shopping for decorations at the 99 Cent Store. He’s a smart kid so he immediately tried to cover his face lest someone see him shopping at the 99 Cent Store.

2shopping

The previous year we took him to a Halloween party where he went as a lump of fat that didn’t do anything useful or say any meaningful words (insert Trump joke here).

1LastYear

This year, however, he went as some sort of a smudge that once looked like a skeleton but ended up as kind of a panda. His mother, the world famous makeup artist known as www.makeupartist411.com, struggled valiantly to apply makeup to a two-foot tall tornado who promptly rubbed his face on the sofa, the floor, my pants, and a peanut butter sandwich.

0familyMother Smudger.

Eventually we made our way toward the neighbors house where he would have his first ever trick or treating experience and/or learn to case a house. With mommy and grandma in tow, we crossed the street and I set him down on the sidewalk so he could approach the house on his own two feet like a man.

I said, “Hold daddy’s hand,” and my favorite human being that’s ever lived looked up at me and put his tiny hand in mine. I can’t even try to come up with a funny or sarcastic comment about that. I almost lost it right there in front of my wife, mother-in-law, neighbors, and strangers on the street. There are moments like this one that force me to stop in my tracks because I feel dizzy. It’s like I can’t handle the amount of love that flows through my body. All of his little milestones are a big deal to me but some effect me more than others. Frankie carrying a jack-o-lantern bucket in one hand and grasping my fingers with the other just overwhelmed me.

3firsthouseThe pic is blurry but so were my eyes. Shut up.

After shaking off my almost emotional breakdown, we arrived at that first door which was definitely the most fun of the night. F4’s eyes were full of wonder at the decorations and lights, but when my neighbor held out a bowl of candy he looked frozen in time. He doesn’t know what “trick or treat” means. Hell, he can’t even say it. Plus, he’s had very little candy in his short life so, while he recognizes a small piece of chocolate, an entire bowl of diabetes delights is foreign to him. He just stood there while my neighbor grabbed a handful of goodies and dropped them in his bucket.

4bucket

I don’t think he completely grasped the glory of the situation he was in—free candy, by the bucket, and daddy was allowing it. Pretty sure he thought I was entrapping him rather than what I was actually doing which was using him as a front to get me free candy by the bucket. Much easier than my usual method of candy collecting by way of home invasion.

I did allow him a few pieces of candy which, as you can see below, caused me great personal joy.

5daddyand4Enjoy it kid. Tomorrow you’re back on protein shakes and broccoli.

With a few stops under his belt F4 finally started to pick up on the protocol. It took some prompting but most houses got a “Peas” in place of “Trick-or-treat” followed by the blowing of a kiss in place of a “Thank you”. At one point my wife told one of the ladies handing out candy that it was “the kiss of death” which caused a look of genuine horror. I don’t know if the woman was superstitious or dying of something but that was the last time that happened.

The grand finale of every stop was an unsolicited, top-of-his-lungs shouting of “BYEEEE!” which got a huge laugh and a return “Bye!” What no one anticipated was that for every “Bye!” they put in the pot, Frankie would raise them one exponentially louder “BYEEEE!” even if we were halfway down the block. Eventually they’d just give up because, like the Terminator, F4 would never stop. He always got the last word which he clearly learned by watching me is just because he’s friendly.

After what felt like 100 houses, but was probably more like 10, we were all exhausted. Some of us from trying to pull others to the ground.

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And others from having to be carried from house to house.

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Eventually those who had exerted themselves were just dead tired.

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So we decided to call it a night, head home, and hand out candy to kids that didn’t require me to wear a weightlifting belt to hold them.

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All in all our first big Halloween outing was a huge success. The entire family and, most importantly, Frankie Four, had a great time. We were all tuckered out but mommy and me managed to stay up long enough to eat enough candy to feed John Candy. Alas, the boy couldn’t quite hang.

10dunzoBest Halloween ever.


If you haven’t yet please give a listen to my podcast, Bad Ass DadCast. Episodes are posted here on the blog on (mostly) weekly basis. It’s just fun conversations with other parents, authors, and experts to discuss the experience of raising kids.

And join me on social media at:

Instagram: @FrankPrather

FB: ABadAssDad

Snapchat: Frank Prather

Our First Family Holiday In Photos— And Breastfeeding!

Our First Family Holiday In Photos— And Breastfeeding!

This is a dual purpose photo post that will both recap Four’s first holiday with my family and throw public breastfeeding pics in the faces of people who were angry at my last post. Joy to the world!

Airport BoobWe started the holiday trip off right with our rendition of Little Town Of Breast-Ahem at the airport. I know they hold more than 3.5 ounces of liquid, so how did she sneak them past the crack TSA team at security?

MARYLAND

Bad Ass Dad and sonMe and Frankie Four landed in Maryland and were immediately accosted by some woman (who may or may not be his mother and my wife) because of our winning smiles. We can’t help it if we pretty.

Mixed race familyI am an equal opportunity uncle and demand racial diversity in my family. It was very difficult for me to accept that my son turned out to be Caucasian but I love him anyway. Appearing in this photo from upper left to right is my sister, my wife, my nephew, my mom holding my disturbingly cracker-ish son, and my niece.

Bad Ass Dad wifeMy gorgeous California wife dressed in a New York outfit in the Maryland woods. This was what she was wearing when she was last seen so if you—just kidding. The ground was way too hard to dig a hole that day.

Bad Ass DadKevin and I have been friends for 25 years. You think he’d have offered me some of his sperm so that my kid had a little melanin.

Bad Ass DadScott and I have been friends for over 30 years and it looks a lot like he donated his sperm given Four’s cheeks.

NORTH CAROLINA

Bad Ass Dad and sonsFranklin Nathaniel Prather’s 2, 3, and 4. One of them believes that he’s the master of the universe and so do the other two.

prather thanksgivingThis is a happy photo of Four’s first Thanksgiving and definitely not a family that’s being forced to pretend that everything is fine by armed home invaders. (Help us)

grandparentsPop, Four, and GeeBee, not to be confused with Bel Biv Devoe.

bad ass dad hairThe wind messed up my hair so I was forced to brutally murder the wind. Problem solved.

Bad Ass  Dad familyWould it be egotistical of me to caption this, “Best Looking Family That Ever Lived”?
Yes?
Ok, good.

Bad Ass Dad friendsWhen my friend Larry died he left behind a beautiful family who I finally got to introduce to Four. Seeing his kids playing with my son was one of the highlights of my year. His twins were asleep by the time we actually took a pic.

FLORIDA

Bad Ass DadOn the flight to Florida our son crawled into the arms of a strange Asian woman named Linn. That was literally the only thing she said that we could understand.

Bad Ass DadHere is Four in a rickshaw and not because the last picture was of him and an Asian woman. Don’t be such a racist. But I think we can all agree that one of them is probably a terrible driver.

Bad Ass DadFour with Nena, his great-grandmother and the reason we were in Florida.

Baby in a suitcaseI’m not saying you should pack your baby in a suitcase,
I’m just saying it might make the flight more peaceful.

Bad Ass Dad breastfeedingI promised breastfeeding pics so here’s one that, unfortunately, did not take place in public. But don’t worry, they’re coming!

Bad Ass DadThis is my nephew Chris showing off his first tattoo as well as a small white child.

Bad Ass DadWe spent a few days at the beach trying to catch our tans up with my niece Cassi. We failed.

Bad Ass DadI don’t know if you’ve ever checked the caloric content of sand but, given how much of it he’s eaten and how his body looks, I’d say it’s fattening.

Bad Ass DadSHART! Wait, I mean SHARK! No, it was a shart.

Bad Ass DadOnly one of the best days of my life, no big deal.

Bad Ass DadThe #1 beach in America according to someone who ranks beaches. In America. But after Siesta Key, you need a…

Bad Ass DadA siesta—while being watched by toy creepers.

Bad Ass Dad breastfeedingAfter the nap, a little X-mas shopping with St. Nipple-ous.

Bad Ass DadThe next day we took the family to a state park where not a single one of us got eaten by an alligator or encountered someone invoking the ‘Stand Your Ground’ law. You’re slipping, Florida.

Bad Ass Dad breastfeedingWe also took a little boat ride in the 90 degree weather. I’m clearly upset with Lisa for not covering our son in something that would overheat him to death just so she could protect the other people on the boat from her semi-visible boob.
(I’m on a boob, bitch!)

Bad Ass DadFour is having the time of his life. Wheeeeeeeee!

Bad Ass DadFour’s enthusiasm for life was reinvigorated when we all went to Universal Studios!

Bad Ass DadMommy helps Four wake up. SURPRISE!

Bad Ass DadHe poses for the picture or he gets the hose again.

Bad Ass Dad breastfeedingMy wife breastfeeding my son, uncovered,
while walking with my mom at Universal Studios in Florida. Bad Ass women.

Bad Ass DadAnd the defining image from our trip. The family.
From L to R:
Frankie Four (my son)
Lisa (my wife)
Gloria (my mom)
Cassi (my niece)
Stephanie (my sister)
Chris (my nephew)
Gloria aka “Nena” (my grandmother)

…and the luckiest guy on earth, me.