State of the Union

No, this is not the Presidential State of the Union. It is simply (and with no pictures) a brief update on the Andrewclan.

59 days into 2008 and we have not been short on obstacles and opportunities to find reasons to pray. That is my very positive way to say that it has not been easy. Let me give you an example. Join me, if you will, if for nothing else than a good laugh.

Let's take today. A normal Thursday. Beautiful outside. Gotta love California. It's February but sunny skies, 65 degrees, cool mocha, etc...

I wake up around 6:30 (late at our house) to take Wesley on a Father/Son breakfast prior to dropping him off at his school. Then all hell breaks loose! We walk down the hallway and the floor creaks. The sound wakes up Nathan and Thomas. Wendy was feeling sick last night so she went to bed at 5:30. The screaming baby wakes her up and she strains her neck.

So I get the baby up. He wants milk. And he wants it now. No, don't go back and tend to anyone elses need. Get me my milk. That is what he would say if he could talk. But it comes out as, "goo" and a finger pointing toward the kitchen.

Wendy would like a neck rub and is having trouble moving. So I run into the kitchen to micro the milk. It has to be warm. Because if the milk is not warm then you have a very mad 1.8 year old. And he will tell you about it. As the micro is going I set him on the couch and assure him I will return as a good servant with his milk at just the temperature he likes. Meanwhile there is a blue blob squirming across the floor. I know it's Thomas but he doesn't want anyone to know he is there so he just lies still and you try to move over him and not trip on your way to the bedroom to massage your wifes neck.

Wesley now is annoyed and saying, "come on Dad. I am hungry. Let's go." So being spiritual I yell at him to read his bible, calm down and be patient. I do a pathetic job rubbing Wendy's neck. A whole of 30 seconds. The micro is beeping. The baby is crying. Wesley wants to go. Thomas is a blob on the floor. Wendy is moaning in pain. I am yelling at everyone to calm down so we can have a peaceful atmosphere.

So Wesley and I both deal. I break the news that Dad/Son breakfast is off in order for us to help with the greater common good. He begins, ever-so-slightly to go down the I'm gonna throw a fit road but pulls it together and gets behind the plan. I like that about him. He comes around pretty quickly. Keep in mind it's now only 7:15. So I get breakfast going. Wesley is helping (kind-of). I start the coffee. Far be it from me to not get some coffee in Wendy in the same way that I have to get milk in that baby. If someone can invent a drip system that automatically injects it prior to her getting out of bed the world would be a better place.

So Starbucks (sorry for all you that hate the global brand) beans are roasting in our espresso maker. The aroma is filling the air. Kids are running and playing some blend of pokemon, Ben-10 and Sly-Cooper. I read a scripture. I pray, "God help me". And carry on.

So Wendy is sick. I am anxious because I feel the need to work and continue "supporting" the family. I can tell she needs help and would like a day off but unfortunately, we don't have a temp agency that will come in an run our household. She is the CEO, executive assistant, HR Director, Sales force and receptionist. If she is down the company is down. That means that I have to fill in. So if she is sick I am sick. So I go to work and tell her she has to work. Then I feel guilty.

That guilt grows. And it grows. And it grows. It's now 7:50 and I have to take Wesley to school. Wendy and I go back and forth. It looks something like this;

• what do you want me to do? (me)
• I don't know (her)
• well, can I help? (me)
• well, I know you have to go to work (her)
• so what do you want me to do? (me)

You get the picture. Neither one of us wants to give. She doesn't want to ask for the help. I don't want to give the help. Finally, I say I will try to work it out. Wesley and I leave. Nathan is covered with yogurt now. Thomas is running up and down the hallway throwing a ball. And we are off.

10:13am I text Wendy. "how ya doin?"

10:14am "stiff, sick and strugglin"

So I say I will be home by lunch to take over. I arrive about 12:15. Nathan is on his way to a nap, Thomas is playing a game on the computer, Wesley is in school and Wendy goes to take a nap. I have to pick Wesley up at 1:30. I get just enough work done to be completely stressed out. So I grab Thomas and we pick up Wes. Upon arriving at home I work some more, occasionally yell at them to keep quite and not wake up Nathan and they play outside. (keep in mind, this is California. It's beautiful outside).

3:00pm - Nathan wakes up. He wants to go outside to play with the boys. They have their moonsand out on the ground. Now every 5 minutes the big boys are yelling that Nathan is throwing the sand. I am trying to focus and stay objective and have a positive discipline experience with my almost 2 year old. So I yell at him through the door, "don't throw!! NO! NO!"

As you can imagine that didn't really work well. Wesley and Thomas are yelling the same thing. So I put him in timeout. Like Bill Cosby said - all kids have brain damage. So 4 timeouts later I tell him he cannot go outside. You would think that I ripped this childs heart out. The drama. The crying. The screaming. This goes on for about an hour. So Wendy wakes up. I am mad. The kid has streaming tears. So we go to the park prior to swimming.

We buy KFC for dinner. I don't know why. I always reget that. We sit in the park eating disgusting food. They play. Toward the end Thomas gets hurt coming down the slide. But he is holding his head saying he has a headache. We go into swim. I have to carry him, hold the 2 year olds hand and make sure Wesley doesn't run out into traffic.

Thomas does not want to swim. Once over we go home. It's now 6:30pm. Thomas has a fever. I put him in bed. He throws up all over. Wendy, who is still sick, has to put on her mom face and now take care of our spawn. I said I would bring her dinner. But didn't. So once Thomas and Nathan are in bed I run out to jamba juice. I come back tell Wesley to turn off the TV for bed. He says, "why?". "Because I said". He starts crying because he feels I yelled at him. So we have to talk about that. Turns out he is just overtired. He goes to bed.

Wendy just walked out as I am typing this and said, "would you rub my neck?"

It's only 8:50pm....

After all that I am going to a late night movie with a friend to decompress. After 59 of those I am ready for Hawaii. Writing this has been somewhat therapeutic. I guess that is why my wife has to go through so many details when we talk. I am usually completely overwhelmed when she gets through with a detailed ranting similar to that which I just gave to you. But honestly that was not my intent. I simply wanted to give you a small window into our fun, often chaotic and quite random days here in the Andrewclan. I hope you enjoyed.

Jason