My Three Year Old Wants to Smoke

When you have a three year old, she wants to do everything she sees someone else doing. It started at around two, when we were in line waiting for the Monsters Inc ride at Disneyland and another parent swung their kid up high while waiting in line. She looked at me and said “I want to do that.” So we did it. I swung her and the line finally moved and we got on the ride. It’s not bad. Not great, but not bad. At this point, I expect a little bit more from my robotics than a blink and a hand gesture, but I’m highly critical of cybernetic technology. It’s not the 50s anymore. I’m just saying.

So this “I want to do that: continued with everything from seeing someone drive a truck, ride a bus, or watching Spiderman spin a web, any size, and then catch thieves just like flies. Look out! Here comes the Spiderman… And yes, I trashed that WB new Spiderman show before, but once I got past the weird character design, it’s actually a pretty good show. Bella and I watch it together every Saturday Morning. She also wants to now go to high school and fight the Green Goblin, but one thing at a time.

We went out to dinner at the Cheesecake Factory last night, always an adventure with two kids, and when Bella got antsy I took her to walk around the rim of the small fountain. I held her hand and she loved walking around it until the security guard told us to stop. He said we could throw money in, though, that was okay. Geez. Thanks.

So we were sitting there, not walking around the fountain when Bella pointed to someone who sat near us. “I want to do what that man is doing.” She said.
“What Man?”
“That Man, right there.”
“I looked over at it was a man smoking. Then I looked again and realized it was actually a woman. The irony almost made me laugh out loud. I kept thinking of that “Smoking is Beautiful” poster they had up in high school with this wrinkled old ugly man smoking.
So I said, “No Bella, You can’t smoke. It’s a filthy disgusting habit.” The problem is the man/woman heard me. She/he gave me a look and walked away with a puff of smoke. I then added, a bit too loudly, “And it’s not a man, it’s a woman.”

Our daughter is becoming more away of the world around her, and that means more explanations and some creative verbal improv without the help of the audience yelling “freeze”. Good thing I have a lot to say.

Another Interesting Year

Living in LA is like living in another world. It’s really true. When you are raising a family in LA the normal and mundane collides with the absurd on a quite regular basis. Right now I am staying home with our new baby and will be for the next year or so. But I’m still working in the entertainment industry and living in LA so it never really becomes normal. How do those two things combine? Like oil and water, and here’s the thing: I’m not complaining. I like the unpredictability and excitement in my life but now it’s tempered with routine and a hint of normalcy.

I am just finishing up my book which will be out June 2 called PACIFY ME: A HANDBOOK FOR THE FREAKED OUT NEW DAD. Audge works during the day so after baby duty during the day for me then I’ve been working at night. So we’re both pulling double shifts and have never looked so forward to relatives coming out to visit. “Yes, it’s good to see you, Mom and Dad. Please take these children. We’ll be back in four hours. Maybe.”

But like I said it’s another world. In between taking care of our baby I’ve been writing a book, doing a radio interview here and there, performed on stage in vegas when we can coordinate a visit with a relative to watch the baby for the week, and been working on my website http://www.comedyfilmnerdsdotcom.com/ with my partner comedian Graham Elwood. We find it very fun to play internet mogul once a week in my garage. And yes, Griffin is there for every one of our meetings. Often he participates will loud outbursts during the reading of the minutes, and his opinions are duly noted.

So it could be a very interesting year. Once again a year mixed with hard work, fun, difficulties and unpredictability. I wouldn’t have it any other way.

The Cat is Trying to Spoon Me

We have a really weird cat. Her name is Avatar and she was a four month old stray that scared the shit out of Audrey right before we got married. Audge was going out to do laundry in the laundry room of our apartment complex and she came back in scared. I asked her what was wrong. She said a possum just chased her back up the steps. Now we did have possums in the complex, which as weird enough for Park Labrea, but I had never heard of one chasing someone up steps before. When I opened the door to check, a little starving white four month old kitten greeted me, meowing. Obviously the first thing I said was "Does that look like a possum to you?"
"...Well, it did in the dark," my wife replied.

We kept the cat and it was most grateful. She would greet us at the door, sleep in bed with us, and stay on our laps when we watched television. She was our baby.

But then of course we had actual babies. And sadly, pets don't quite get the attention that they are used to when a child or two comes along. Now our cat was cool about it and never showed anything more than disinterest for either child. And still doesn't, really, even though Bella is almost four. As if she made up her mind to ignore our children until they leave for college. Her choice.

But every once in a while the cat lets me know it's not cool. Like last night. Instead of sleeping at the foot of the bed, she snuggled right up into the crook of my arm and then when I turned over I felt her lie down and lean against my back. She was telling me, "I know these little people seemed to suddenly appear and get all the attention, but don't forget who was here first. If you do, I may just "forget" where my litter box is. Consider this your only notice."

So we try to give the cat a little more attention. But we're just so freaking tired. She understands. Okay, no she doesn't. But she should. She sleeps fourteen hours a day, for Pete's sake. She's tired and all she does is stretch, purr, and give us periodic guilt-inducing looks.