The Google Dictionary defines “Dad Bod” as: a male physique that 

is relatively slim but not lean or toned. I prefer to think of it as “the melting of one’s former self, coupled with stress collection points around the abdomen, waist, and ass.” I would also like to be gender inclusive in that “dad bod” is not just for dads, but I would never in a million years tell a woman she has “mom bod” for fear of violent death. Anyway, the descension into “parent bod” can be a source of depression for many new parents, so this week I’m offering a few tips to help fight back against this terrible disease:

1. Let Food Go To Waste – Children at the dinner table can be the most unreasonable people on Earth. If your children are anything like mine, there is a violent revolution every time mac and cheese isn’t on the menu. Most nights the standoff ends with good food left on the children’s plate. Myself, being a child of a child of a child of the Great Depression and also an unapologetic glutton, can not stand to see good food go to waste. So, often times I eat it. Don’t look at me like that. You know you’ve done it. Judgements and self loathing aside, these are unneeded extra calories and a direct contributor to dad fat. Don’t be afraid to throw away food. Or buy a dog. Dogs are good garbage disposals.   
2. Designated Cook – Pick the worst cook in the house to be the designated dinner cook. In my house, that’s me. I’d say at least two of the dinners I prep each week are sub par. And that’s being generous. This means that at least two nights of the week, I’m consuming less calories. Not a bad start. (Note: This can backfire. If the cooking is so horrible as to be inedible, frequent pizza deliveries can occur.)
3. Turn Your Children Into Workout Equipment – Being a parent, it can be hard to find time to squeeze in a workout. In fact, it’s next to impossible to have a designated work out time unless its before or after the children go to bed. One solution to this problem is to work out with your children. Let me clarify, I don’t mean that your children are doing the exercises, too. I mean, use your children as workout equipment. By sewing canvas handles onto the backs of your children’s T-shirts, you can turn each child into a dumbbell, kettlebell, etc. By making the child hold various objects, you can change the weight of your “kidbell” as needed throughout the workout. Kids love to be lifted up and swung around, so everyone wins. (*Note: If you are using your “kidbell” as a kettlebell, please ensure the ceiling is high enough to provide overhead clearance. Otherwise your “kidbell” will get all whiny.)
4. Work Workouts – For many of us, our jobs consist of stagnant days staring at a monitor and doing keyboard cardio. This daily eight hours of inactivity can wreak havoc on our bodies, especially since we tend to consume high levels of junk foods at our desks to fill the gaping holes in our soul. One good trick to break up the daily monotony is to set a recurring alarm on your watch or phone and at regular intervals, get down on the floor and do a few reps of some sort of exercise. Not only will this help to burn midday calories, but it will reinforce with your coworkers that you may, in fact, be mentally unhinged and you should not be trifled with. If your boss catches you mid workout, you may want to learn some variation of a gang-sign to flash.
5. Be The Office Jerk – The office setting is notorious for being an ever flowing spring of processed sugars and trans fats. It is always someones birthday, anniversary, National Donut Day, National Cookie Day, National Deep Fried Double Stuffed Oreo Day, etc. So next time Dave from accounting puts a box of donuts in the break-room, you march right down there, grab that box of donuts, and chuck it in the trash.* Sure, Dave will probably cry. It’s his birthday and he can cry if he wants to. But then he will be thanking you for helping improve his overall quality of life. When your boss comes to talk to you about all the complaints he’s getting, just put him in a headlock with the biceps you’ve built from curling your “kidbells”.
6. Get Fired – Once you’ve choked out your boss, you no longer need to worry about going to work. Your newfound wealth of free time should provide you with plenty of time to work out and your lack of income will prevent you from overeating. Or eating at all.
7. Stop Drinking Beer – Just kidding. That’s a silly one.  

It should be noted that despite all of these tips, I still suffer from Dad Bod. These are not intended to be a magical cure, but a resource to keep Dad Bod in check. There is no cure for Dad Bod. It is terminal. The only thing you can do is make the most of the Bod you have left.

*Please never throw away donuts.

**Move your eyes to the right. Find the “Follow” button. Click.

Some days the posts will be nothing more than a reason for you to say, “hey, I guess my day wasn’t that bad”…

6:59 am: Wake up children. Already nine minutes behind schedule. Daily struggle ensues.

7:28 am: Arrive to daycare to drop off Josie. Realize I forgot to pack snacks for Easton. Refuse to go all the way back home, so Easton gets to pick two snacks at the gas station (Father Of The Year Award). He cannot understand why the candy aisle is not a viable source of options.

7:42 am: Easton has been dropped off. It occurs to me that one of his snacks contains peanut butter, violating the schools nut-free classroom policy.  

7:55 am: Arrive to work, email Easton’s teacher explaining the severity of my peanut butter fail and apologizing for any nut related emergency health situations I may have caused.

8:00 am to 4:00pm: Work (I have to say that because my boss reads these articles).

4:30 pm: Pick up Easton. He complains of a stomach ache. He has also left his lunchbox in his classroom for the second day in a row. The room is locked. He shows little remorse.

4:30 am: Leaving Easton’s school parking lot. He suddenly remembers he has forgotten two stuffed animals on the table in After School Care. I stop the truck and ask him if these are the same stuffed animals I explicitly told him not to bring to school that morning. He says “yes”. He shows little remorse. I don’t think he knows what “explicitly” means yet. I now have to check his backpack every morning because my son is a smuggler. We retrieve the smuggled goods.

4:50 pm: Josie has been picked up. We arrive home. Easton continues to complain of a stomach ache. I’m suspicious it is a ploy to watch more TV. I give him a puke bowl anyway.

5:20 pm: Dinner time. Easton does not want to eat. This is unusual.

6:25 pm: Easton says he’s feeling better. We all go downstairs to play.

6:31 pm: Easton excuses himself to use the bathroom upstairs.

6:33 pm: Easton reappears covered in vomit and a bewildered look. We cautiously go upstairs. The kitchen is ground zero. The spray pattern would suggest he was playing “helicopter” when the incident occurred. The smell is unbearable.

6:40 pm to 7:20pm: Easton in the bathtub. I clean. Josie watches from a safe distance, asking questions about the process. Answering her questions forces me to breath. She laughs when I gag.

7:45 pm: Bedtime routine.

8:45 pm: Write blog post / Relive trauma.

9:25 pm: Post article to blog, Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter. Spend remaining awake time refreshing WordPress app to see how many hits the site has received.

10:00 pm: Slip into unconsciousness while silently cursing those that haven’t followed the blog.

*Additions

11:00 pm: Awoken by Easton. He has vomited all over his bed, rendering it unusable for the night. He sets up shop in our room. I clean for another 15 minutes.

12:10 am: More vomiting. This time he actually does it into the puke bowl. What a genius idea.

12:46 am: Not quite dry heaving. More like “damp-heaving” or a dusting of vomit.

12:50 am to 6:05am: Easton sleeps fitfully. He thrashes about like a sleeping dog. I think he’s dream about chasing squirrels.

6:06 am: Easton wakes up, says he feels fine. Wants eggs and toast. I keep the puke bucket handy.

In the nine months leading up to the birth of your first child, you undoubtedly heard a friend, family member, or coworker say something to the effect of, “say goodbye to sleep” or “better catch up on z’s now” or some other inane joke of the sort. I’ll admit, I’ve made these comments to friends as well. But I’m allowed too. I’ve been through, and currently reside in, the inferno of early child rearing. The bags under my eyes are proof of my qualification to regurgitate mindless idioms like a broken parrot because my brain is too exhausted to come up with anything even remotely original. What no one ever tells you in those pre-parent months, is “why” you’ll lose so much sleep. I mean, we all understand the first stretch. The infant phase. The nighttime feedings, the 2am diaper explosion extravaganza, the 3am for-no-reason nuclear meltdown, etc. But what about after that? You know, once you’ve bragged, “my kid is already sleeping through the night” and your already-parent-friends have a nice chuckle. Its because they know. They know that it never ends and you’re a fool. Here is a list of reasons that have dragged me from the depths of slumber at some ungodly hour in the past few months:

1. The Bathroom Announcement: This move is the most common, but is typically only used once the child has mastered the door knob and can freely come and go from their room. This self-sufficiency should allow the child to take nighttime restroom trips with little disturbance. It does not. A child must always announce his/her activity, no matter how small. Or, as in recent cases, the child will inform you of “mission completion” before returning to bed. (Some children will pretend to be lost and unable to find their rooms. This is a stalling technique. They are NOT actually lost.)
2. The Light Moved: Tricks of light can often cause worrisome thoughts in children, which will lead to crying, which will lead to you being awake. To be clear, the lighting does not actually change or move inside the room. It’s all a matter of imagination. An easy solution is to rid the room of any pixies, sprites, glow-trolls, and fire demons prior to saying goodnight. This should put your child’s mind at ease and buy you an extra half hour.
3. Spider On The Other Side Of The Room: Another tactic a child might use, is claiming to have seen something impossible. A few weeks ago our daughter woke us with that pretend sobbing that kids do when they know they have a bullsh*t reason for being up. She claimed she saw a spider. I escorted her back to her room and asked her were she saw it. She pointed behind a chair on the other side of her room. For clarification, I asked if she saw the spider, in the dark, behind a solid object, from her bed on the other side of the room. She said “yes”. She’s a liar.
4. General Inquiries: Sometimes children will wake you up when their weird little brains conjure up impossible scenarios or other tricky topics that demand immediate attention. “What would happen if the ocean were full of cheese balls?” “What should I do if the floor actually DOES turn to lava?” “Where do rainbows go when the sun comes out?” “What are fire demons?” Do not answer. Questions lead to questions lead to question. A midnight pandora’s box.
5. Foot Aches: I say “foot aches” because this is the specific example I’m dealing with currently. This tactic could manifest in any recurring phantom body ache. A few weeks back, my son woke us up complaining that his feet hurt. When I asked him where, he pointed between his toes. Turning the light on, I examined his feet and found no evidence of any exterior issues to validate his claim. I told him to put on some socks and go back to bed. This was 12:15am. At 1:30am, he again entered our room. This time armed with that fake sobbing cry. Again, I escorted him to his room and tried to calm him down. He finally got back into bed and I told him to be brave and close his eyes. At 2:45am he entered our room again. This time we were both sobbing. Again he claimed his feet hurt. Desperate, I pulled some random, generic, nothing-special lotion from our hall closet.  I slathered it all over his feet, put his socks back on, and sent him back to bed. Never heard another peep. It’s happened on two other nights since then, but both times I’ve gone immediately to the placebo lotion and nipped the problem in the bud. I don’t want to count my chickens, but this may be my first real victory as a father.

This is only the small sample of examples I could dredge from my tired mind, but I know there are more. I’m sure as the years pass, these will transform into things like loud slumber parties and curfew breaking. If you have more examples you’d like to lend to the list, please follow the site on the right side of the screen and then leave your comments below.   

As a parent, we’re always told that it’s important to foster our children’s creativity and desire to learn. To encourage them to discover new things and to provide them with the means and the environment to do so. What you’re not told, as parents, is that like everything your child does, he or she will take these activities to extreme degrees that you cannot possibly sustain.

In my last post, I mentioned that my son has developed the notion that he will build a robot out of the materials pulled from our recycle bin. He has coupled this with a passion for “science experiments”, which as of late has simply been an excuse to dirty every piece of tupperware and mason jar we have in the house. I’ve boiled this experience down to what I call “The Seven ‘Lations’ Of Mad Science”:

1. Titillation – In this stage, both the parent and child partake in the creative exercise. It is a pleasant experience for everyone involved. The child is learning and making memories. The parent experiences the joy of watching their child learn and grow. This is the only stage in “The Seven ‘Lations’ Of Mad Science” that involves a parent’s joy.
2. Escalation – In this stage, the child begins pushing the boundaries of what is reasonable. The experiments become more elaborate, laborious, and messy. The child experiences joy as he brainstorms new and intricate ways to destroy your kitchen. The parent is forced to begin making excuses (often fabricated to avoid saying “I’m too tired”) to put off or gently put down the ideas.
3.  Accumulation – The child begins, on his own, to collect items to be used in future science experiments (in my case a garbage robot). These items are often pulled from recycle bins, waste baskets, or simply found outside. This is a highly unsanitary stage and your home will become infested with ants. Your child will likely then wish to keep the ants for future science experiments.
4. Overregulation – As a parent and reasonable human being, you are forced to set strict boundaries on the experiments your child is able to perform and the items he is able to retain for science. Expect resistance in this stage. Resistance can manifest itself in many forms. I, for example, have seen fits of rage, quiet brooding, feigned hearing impairments, and the always feared, insincere compliance in the form of “FINE”.
5. Capitulation – In this stage the child’s resistance reaches critical mass. As a parent you begin questioning whether your overregulation is right. Are you holding back a great mind? Are you stifling growth? You concede that science experiments can be done, as long as they are “done outside” and robot parts must be kept “only in your room”.
6. Isolation – Your child becomes increasingly withdrawn. His bedroom door is frequently closed. You can hear hammering at all hours of the night. When you listen at the door, you often hear maniacal laughter or the utterance of “potty language”. As a parent, you use this time to do the dishes or catch up on laundry.
7. Annihilation – The garbage robot is complete. It becomes self aware and destroys your home. Even as you stare out at the smoldering ruins, you can’t help but feel proud of what your child created.

I forget where I was going with all of this, but take heed. You have been warned.

Don’t forget to click “Follow” on the right hand side of the screen. The Garbage Robot has been reprogrammed to track-down and terminate those who don’t.