Mean Girls: The Toddler Years

So, two days ago, Greta and I are at her favorite park — Library Park, which we sometimes call Vampire Park, because we’ve been there many times after dark, but, which is officially named Lincoln Park, for those who care — and this pack of toddler ruffians starts dominating the play structure. There were two girls and four or five boys, and though most of them weren’t much older than Greta, you could just tell that these kids were bad news.

They were throwing stuff down the slides, climbing up the slides the wrong way when younger kids were trying to use them and basically doing whatever the hell they wanted, while their parents (if they had any!) zoned out on one of the benches nearby. Watching these punks dominate the usually-very-peaceful park was kind of maddening, but, since no one did anything overtly evil to Greta, I ignored the little anarchists for the time being.

But then, the boys left. Yes, they actually had parents and they looked just as permissive and lazy as you’d expect them too. Sorry, but one of the Mom’s actually cheered her daughter on when she rode a toy car down the slide. Are you kidding me? Not in my playground, beotch! Urgh…

Anyway, the boys left a few minutes later and the two girls started playing near Greta, which seemed to be fine, until I heard Greta yelling at them from the top turret of the castle. “Yes, I am!” she yelled while the two mean girls laughed and taunted her from the slide. “I am a princess!” Greta yelled again, to which they replied: “No, you’re not!”. Undeterred, Greta tried again: “I am a mermaid!”. And again, those heartless little bitches on the slide chanted back: “No, you’re not!” And when that didn’t work, Greta tried again, this time even louder: “I am a fairy!” to which the girls cracked up and yelled back: “Ha ha, no you’re not!” and “Yeah! Good luck with that!”

I was so stunned at what I was hearing that it actually took me a second to realize what was happening. Were these girls for real? They couldn’t have been more than a year of two older than Greta (if even that!) but they were already first class assholes and here they were ganging up on my daughter. Oh, man, all I can say is that they are very lucky that one of the girls Dads was sitting by the slide — he had headphones on and no clue as to his daughter’s true nature — because, well, I don’t know what I would have done, but, it might have involved some untimely face plants on the slide.

And then, while I sat there contemplating the many ways I could beat the mean outta those little brats, one of them pushed Greta and then hit her arm when she tried to climb down the ladder to get away from them. That was it. Park time was officially over. I grabbed Greta by the hand and we left. Of course, she wanted to stay, but, I was done. I knew that nothing good could come from me being anywhere near those girls.

Actually, I felt kinda sorry for them. I mean, only someone whose own sense of wonder and magic and, for lack of a better word, pure imagination, had already been stomped out of them could say something so mean to a sweet little girl who just wanted to play with them. One of my favorite things about Greta is the big, crazy, wonderful way she views the world…everything is colorful and magical, fairies are everywhere, every toy is a prince or princess, hell, even the blueberry-shaped sponge in her bathtub is King Blueberry, the father of Melody the Mermaid! Who wouldn’t want to live in a beautiful, candy-colored world like that?

So, we head to our car and Greta tells me: “Daddy, those bad girls aren’t my friends, they broke my heart.” Yes, part of her wonderful world of Greta is hearing about her getting her heart broken a lot, we hear it almost every day, but, never about some bullies at the park! Biting my tongue, I told her that they probably don’t have as much imagination as you do and that yes, they were very bad girls for hitting her. And just then, the ringleader and her headphone-wearing Dad walked by our car on their way home. Smiling, the clueless Dad waved and said: “Bye-bye!”

And then Greta did something so badass that I wish I had it on video. Pointing her little finger at the meaner of the two girls as she walked by with her Dad, Greta shouted: “You’re a bad girl!” Stunned, the girl and her Dad (and me!) just stared at Greta as she yelled it again: “You’re a bad, bad girl!!” OMG, it was crazy, like Greta was putting a curse on her or something. I know, it’s totally not what the child-rearing experts would condone, but, I could not have been prouder of my little girl standing her ground, even at age three, and striking a blow for all the bullied kids of the world. I mean, I’m sorry, but, she  kinda nailed it on the head. That girl was B-A-D.

Unsure of what to do or say next, I simply shrugged at the Dad and loaded Greta into the car. And as we drove past the father and daughter I saw a hollow, shamed look in the girl’s eyes that told me that she knew she had just been served. Big time! Or maybe she was just plotting how to take down the crazy girl who thinks she’s a princess-mermaid-fairy next time they meet at the slide.

Either way, the whole incident totally opened my eyes about just how young mean girls start, you know, being mean. And though it shocks and saddens me to think that toddlers like this exist, you can bet your magic wand that no one is gonna tell my crazy daughter what she is or isn’t again. Nope, not while my Yeti-ass is around!

“A horse, a horse, my kingdom for a horse!”

After months of talking about it, weeks of seriously trying and loads of rewards, big and small, Greta finally took her first poo in the big girl potty a couple of days ago. I could say it was due to our gentle nurturing touch or us letting her decide when she was ready and not rushing her into potty training, but, the fact is, she did it for a horse.

Yep, contrary to what all the books and so-called experts say, in our case, bribery and rewards totally worked. Frustrated with how slowly things were progressing, Mrs. Yeti printed up a Disney Princess rewards chart, bought an s-load of shiny gold star stickers and got serious. If Greta pulled down her own diaper, she got a star. Washed her hands, another star. Sat on the toilet for a while and even contemplated going, yet another star. And when she actually used the toilet, well, that was usually good for at least a couple of stars and a small reward. To make the rewards a little more interesting, we raided the dollar bins at Target the week before for cheapie gifts that we knew she’d want, you know, Disney Fairy pens and shit, nothing too crazy.

But the grand prize, the big reward for using the big girl potty for Numero Dos, was Maximus, the badass horse from the movie Tangled. And let me tell ya, having a cool prize like that sitting in a box on the shelf in her bedroom worked wonders. She talked about her prize and what she had to do to win it for weeks and then things got even more heated when my Mom moved the horse to the bathroom last week during her visit. Now, every time Greta sat on the toilet she would be forced to stare at that beautiful white stallion just waiting to be played with. Truth be told, we were all forced to look at Maximus every time we used the bathroom, but, he has really pretty hair and he makes cool sounds and stuff, so, no biggie.

Anyway, Thursday night Greta finally bit the bullet, sat down on the big girl potty and let loose with what I like to call the mother of all toddler bowel movements. Seriously, it was a spectacular turd, man. I don’t know who was cheering louder when she pooped that thing out, the chorus of potty training angels in heaven or my wallet: “Hooray! No more expensive diapers!”. Either way, there was a lot of cheering going on in our tiny little bathroom. We could not have been prouder!

But all Greta cared about was that horse. And as soon as she’d washed and dried her hands (two gold stars!) and pulled up her big girl panties (one more!) she ripped open his box and started playing with Maximus. Whew…you never saw a girl love a horse more! It was awesome.

And the best part is that when it came time to poo again the next day, she used the big girl potty again. Totally on her own, with no big reward or anything. Whew…thank you, Maximus, for everything. I can’t wait to brush your pretty hair. 🙂

The upside of relapse

Urgh…I don’t know what I was thinking weighing myself the day after a long weekend of cheating on my gal, Project X, but, I did it anyway, and the results were less than stellar. Let’s just say I need to get back in this diet’s good graces and fast.

But first, I simply had to enjoy some classic Mother’s Day fare for brunch — Greta and I made French Toast, bacon, orange juice and watermelon and it was delicious — and I had my first-ever protein-style Double Double at In-N-Out for dinner. Hey, if Mrs. Yeti wants burgers for dinner on her big day, who am I to deny her? For the uninitiated, protein-style means that they wrap your burger (or cheeseburger, or…gasp, double cheeseburger!) in lettuce leaves instead of a bun. And, lemme tell ya, it was FANTASTIC. Like a little double cheeseburger salad… amazing!

So, yes, I did totally relapse this weekend, but, like my horoscope said on Sunday: “Take it easy, don’t stress”. Yes, they give you a horoscope reading when you use the cow scale at the laundry mat. Lucky lotto numbers too. I guess I should start writing those down, I mean, who knows?

Anyway, back to the grind. Hope you all had a great Mother’s Day. We watched really awesomely-bad-good movies all day — a triple feature of Joyful Noise, New Year’s Eve and The Vow, which was way better than the ads made it look. Seriously, we both got a little weepy more than once — and just hung out on the couch while Greta ran around banging pots and pans and shit. It was crazy and loud, and altogether wonderful…Happy Mother’s Day, Mrs. Yeti. I love you.

Putting the “die” in diet…

Yikes, this week flew by. Where were we? Oh yeah, when last we talked, Mrs. Yeti and I were suffering through some major DT’s and drinking lots of hot liquids. Fun! Well, as much I’d like to say that Project X got better last week, it actually got ten times harder…for me, at least. Sorry, I guess I just got sick of eating the same shit all the time…

Oh yeah, and we did cheat a little too. Last Friday night Mrs. Yeti and I had a very rare date night out and went to see a pre-release screening of Dark Shadows followed by a Q&A with the screenwriter. The movie was cool and the discussion afterwards was even better, but, the fact that that was our first night out sans-Greta since January, well, that’s just plain crazy. Wow.

Anyway, being out alone made us totally hungry and we decided that since it was a date night we could eat whatever the hell we wanted. So, we cheated and went to In-N-Out burgers for what I have to say was one of the most spectacular fast food experiences of my life. Seriously, I wanted to stay in that moment forever…it was amazing.

And surprisingly, neither of us felt like hell the next day, so, we just jumped right back onto the Project X bandwagon and kept on trucking. And except for devouring a piece of fried chicken that my brother (our designated babysitter that night) had left behind in our fridge, I was pretty good. Actually, devour is a nice word for what I did to that deep-fried chicken tit. Yikes…I was not myself, amigos.

Anyway, after the fast food blowout and the poor, defiled chicken breast, I was really good for the rest of the weekend. So good, in fact, that when I hauled my fat ass to the cow scale at the laundry mat to weigh myself, I had actually lost a whopping 8.5 pounds! In seven days! Insanity! Seriously, I haven’t lost that much weight in years.

So, you’d think that would make the following week even easier to navigate, but, you’d be wrong. Last week sucked. It was long, I didn’t get nearly enough sleep, and pretty much every lame thing you can think of came to pass. Urgh…I felt like there was a little cartoon raincloud over my head all week, pouring down on me while the rest of the world was all happy and shiny and shit. It was no fun. And, honestly, it made Project X almost unbearable.

But, despite it all, we both stuck with it. Mrs Yeti lost a few mores pounds and I think is holding steady at six pounds lost so far, which is great! and I will find out how much more weight I lost (or, more likely, didn’t lose) tomorrow when I hit the cow scale again. Wish me luck!

Happy “Star Wars” Day!

Not much new to report on Project X, still hangry as all hell during the witching hour — I’ve been blasting Adele’s “Set Fire To The Rain” when I’m really jonesing for something deep-fried and it totally helps! — but, I juggled my meal times around to fit my schedule and everything seems to work a whole lot better. Or maybe I’m just getting used to this crazy diet…either way, Thursday was good.

That said, Mrs. Yeti did go into severe chocolate withdrawal last night (no foaming at the mouth, or fainting spells, but pretty damn close) and I did break down and eat one of Greta’s apple wedges after dinner. Project X is very strict on the no fruit after a certain time thing, so, that was kind of a big deal, but, hey, I’ve gorged myself with much worse things than a fucking apple wedge after dinner, so, I think I’m still good.

Anyway, enough of the food talk, the main reason I’m up at this hour is to wish you all a happy Star Wars Day! I’m not sure what Greta and I will do to celebrate this year, but, we do have a play-date scheduled with a couple of her friends, so, I’m thinking I might have to pack a few extra lightsabers!

Oh, and speaking of lightsabers, I found some old pictures of Greta celebrating “Star Wars” as an infant, so, I’m including those here as well. As you can see, we kinda forced her into celebrating at that age, but, even then, she was totally game! So, enjoy the pics, and whatever you do to celebrate “Star Wars” today, have fun, and, may the 4th be with you…always.

Slogging through it…

Surprisingly, the last two days on Project X haven’t been nearly as bad as the first. Actually, I don’t know why I was surprised, because everyone I know who has done this diet swears that it gets easier to, pun intended, stomach, as time goes by. But, like I said last time, I don’t trust the wisdom of the newly-skinny — I can’t prove anything yet, but, I seriously think losing a pant size or two in a short period of time changes the wiring in your brain! — so, I was prepared to suffer.

However, aside from a truly terrible bought of bread and donut/sugar withdrawal on Tuesday afternoon — I actually sniffed Greta’s popsicle before giving it to her, and lemme tell ya, that frozen lime smelled like heaven! — and a very sluggish morning on Wednesday, things were OK. You know, as OK as they can be in a world without ice cream.

Actually, ice cream isn’t even on the list of things I’ve been craving. Mostly, I think I just crave the freedom to grab a bite of whatever amazingly-tasty kid food it is that Greta is eating at the moment. But, hey, I’m in this for the long haul, or until I go crazy and gnaw my own arm off, so, I will abstain from fruit leathers and Peeps for the moment.

Oh yeah, I also make a pretty amazing berry smoothie this morning with yogurt and agave nectar. Yes, I said agave nectar with a straight face. So, I guess it’s official now, this diet is turning me into even more of a girl…

Project X

This past weekend, Mrs. Yeti and I decided to embark on a secret weight loss regime that I’m going to call Project X. I know I could cut out the middle man and call it what it really is, but, honestly, I hate it when people blog about weight loss and all that. I know it’s lame, but there’s a kind of “I found it!” zealotry that overtakes people who lose a lot of weight, and having been a big dude most of my adult life, well, I’ve heard more than my share of “I found it!” testimonials over the years.

Nothing against those happy, newly-skinny folks out there — I mean, seriously, good on you for losing the weight! — but when it’s followed by the inevitable head-to-toe body scan that just about screams: “So, when are you gonna find it, fatty?” Well, that’s when I wanna start force-feeding those skinny bitches donuts and shit.

Even worse are the folks who preach the almighty diet on Facebook. Seriously, if I read one more status update about how many miles someone jogged that morning or how many inches they lost at their last weigh-in, well, shit, I might just have to un-friend the bloody lot of them. Grrr…Yeti hate!

Anyway, now that I got all my grumpy-old-fat-man ranting out of the way, I am going to do exactly what I most hate and blog about the ultra top-secret diet that Mrs. Yeti and I are trying out this week. I won’t say too much now, as I am extremely superstitious (not to mention, only halfway through the first day at the time of this writing) but, so far, things have been a little rough.

The morning was OK, and the early-afternoon a little less so, and then came the total witching hour. This happened at around 6-7:00PM-ish, which, due to my crazy writer hours is about halfway through my day. I guess for normal people that would be the post-lunch slump.

Anyway, that period sucked. No, more than sucked. It was fucking brutal and I was a straight-up crazy man. Seriously, I thought I was gonna start seeing visions or something. I couldn’t focus on anything, writing made me hungry, watching TV made me crazy hungry (Taco Bell ads never looked so good!) and preparing food for Greta made me feel like a rabid vampire. I made her a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and instead of just licking my fingers afterwards as I normally would, I stood at the sink salivating over that deliciousness and then quickly washed my hands. Yep, I actually washed peanut butter and jelly off my hands for the first time in my life. Urgh, even writing about it makes me sad. Such a waste…

Things got better after dinner and we had some fun family dance time around the Wii before bedtime, so, that was good too. But, wow, that witching hour break down is kinda haunting me. I mean, that was only day one! Just imagine how insane my hungry-ass will be by the weekend. Oy, it’s gonna be a long week…

Mom’s One Line A Day Memory Book

As a loud and proud SAHD, I suppose the title and even the pinkish color of the new “Mom’s One Line A Day – A Five Year Memory Book” should rub me the wrong me. But, the idea behind it is so cool, that, hell, even I — a lowly father without a toddler quote book of my own — have been known to write in Mrs. Yeti’s new book on the fly.

The concept is simple, every time your toddler says something sweet or weird or surprisingly deep, you now have a beautifully-bound datebook to write it down in. Cooler still is the fact that the pages have plenty of room to record not only the context of the quote, but also, a whopping five years worth of quotes. Awesome!

We keep our copy with a pen by the kitchen table and have been filling it up like crazy. A favorite recent entry was what Greta told us after she’d finished watching one of her Barbie movies. Sighing dramatically, she said: “What a sweet story.” and when we asked her what the story was about, she hesitated for a beat and then replied: “There are too many words to fit in my mouth right now…” Ha! Best movie review I ever heard!

Ooo, the other thing I really dig about the book is the little built-in gold bookmark. I like it because it looks all biblical and shit and is guaranteed to give the book a hip, historical vibe in the years to come. I can just see me in my tweedy smoking jacket quoting from the book at Greta’s wedding. “Ah, let me see, I believe it was way back on April 5th, 2012 when you said…”

Anyway, you can order this book all over the place online, but, we got ours at The Library Store, so, since Mrs. Yeti runs the place, you should too. Oh, and even though there is still not a Dad’s edition of the same book, Chronicle Books does offer a lovely blue-bound generic One Line A Day Memory Book for non-parents too. So, now everyone can write down and cherish all the cool, memorable stuff they, or their chatty children say. Hooray!