Papa Soltero

Since Saturday morning, I have been taking care of my kids all by myself. This has been a nice change up for me. I usually only see them on the weekends so it's been nice spending time with them. I get to wake them, make them laugh and put them to bed. On Sunday we ate breakfast and then went to my son's baseball game where he went 1-2 and scored a run.

I love my kids with everything I got. I have really enjoyed these last couple of days. But..... My goodness am I tired. And not just normal tired someone gets after working and running errands. It's a different kind of tired. Like Jesse Pinkman being held captive and forced to make meth in the final episodes of Breaking Bad tired. Everything revolves around their schedule. From school to after school activities. It never ends. Pooping comfortably is out of the question. The door always props open and they ask what I'm doing. What the hell does it look like I'm doing? Close the damn door.

What's been tough for me is disciplining them. Usually on the weekends I take them to the store or I show up with gifts. I don't like having to be the one that disciplines them after not seeing them all week. On Monday, I picked up my kids from school and I was told they behaved badly. We went home and I made them lunch before heading to my son's gymnastics practice. After practice I asked what they wanted to eat and John said he wanted a hamburger and Isabella wanted some nuggets. I repeat, John wanted a hamburger and Isabella some nuggets. We head to Carl's Jr. and I tell them we're taking the drive thru and eating at home because they behaved badly in school. They ask me a good 15 times if we can eat inside but I say no. But then I think to myself, "If they play for a good hour and get tired, putting them to bed will be much easier. But they didn't earn it. They misbehaved in school. Hmmmm....F it we're getting down and eating here." I ask them again what they wanted. John wants a hamburger. "Do you want cheese, John?" "Yes." "Isabella do you want nuggets?" "Yes." We order and make our way to the play area. They go in that jungle gym that always smells like feet and are having a good time. The food arrives and I call them over. "John here is your hamburger and Isabella your nuggets." Isabella then says "But I want a hamburger." "No the F you didn't" is what went through my head but I tell her "Isabella, you said you wanted nuggets. Now eat your nuggets." Then John tells me "But I don't want cheese." "I don't want nuggets!" "I don't want cheese!" Both are close to tears. I then give Isabella the burger and John the nuggets. Calm has been restored just like that. All I'm thinking is "These fools are going to make me go crazy inside a Carl's Jr. in hot-ass Mexicali."

They play for an hour and we head home. I shower them and put them to bed. No problems at all. Was I wrong for taking them to Carl's Jr. after they misbehaved in school? Probably. But I was tired and wanted an hour to relax after putting them to bed. Taking care of kids all day is tough. I don't know how my Gordis does it. I am fortunate to have a wife that is a great mother. She comes back tonight from Vancouver and I honestly don't know who will be more happy to see her, me or the kids. I've been surviving off cold pizza and cup o noodles and I can't take it anymore.

Junto A Ti Creo Que Aumente Mas de 3 Kilos....maybe 10

This was not supposed to happen to me. I do not know where I went wrong. People told me it was inevitable but I never believed it. Yet here I am. Fallen victim to this disease. I look at myself in the mirror everyday and all I see is disappointment. My parents say my son is exactly how I used to be as a kid. Very active, full of energy. He is involved in gymnastics and baseball. He loves to run and can spend hours at the park. Before having him and settling down, I, too, stayed busy with activities and sports. Soccer, wrestling, boxing, weight lifting, running, the gym. However, everything changes once you become responsible for another life. Free time is harder to come by and naps are always desired. Being a part-time dad (hopefully that changes soon) is exhausting. Being a full-time dad (more on this in my next blog) should only make me spiral down deeper into this horrible disease. Unless I do something about it. I hope to look in the mirror one day and no longer see disappointment. What is disappointment? Love handles and big cheeks (both kind). In case you have not caught on, I suffer from what many men have been suffering from since the dawn of time. I have a DAD BOD. John from six years ago would look at present-day John and be devastated knowing that one day he would be shaped like George Lopez during the early years of his TV show. I have never been one to toot my own horn, but pre-kids John was not bad on the eyes. I managed to sweep my Gordis off her feet almost immediately. I softened her up with my looks and reeled her in with my charm. But now, all I have left is my charm. But what good is having great customer service if your store is a chubby 31 year old with as many chins as he has kids. Don't believe everything you see on television. WRONG! I should have seen this coming. TV prepared me for this yet I ignored the signs. I always felt sitcoms were unrealistic the way they usually had a good-looking wife with an average, sometimes overweight husband. King of Queens. The Simpsons. The Fresh Prince of Bel Air. Family Guy. Now here I am. Another Peter Griffin. That really grinds my gears. I'm a big believer in personal responsibility. But not with this. I blame the Motherland for its delicious food. The wife for her delicious food. And my kids for being so damn expensive and needing to eat everyday. But I am making this promise: I will shake this off and get back to a weight where I look and feel great. Maybe I am being a bit too dramatic. Maybe I should relax. Once I start rocking the mom jeans then I'll start panicking. Until then, I will begin my body transformation. If all goes well I will probably become a famous Instagram model and travel the world and leave it all behind.