September's Drink of the Month!

If you haven't already guessed it, it's the Moscow Mule.

This is a classy as shit drink from the 40's that's made a comeback this summer in a big way. If you haven't had one, then skip all this bullshit commentary and head down to the recipe, make a list, and hit that liquor store. If you, like many others, feel that my words flow like the graceful winds over a summers mist or something stupid like that, then hang out and I'll tell you the tale.

It was 100 degrees out and it was beer festival time. Going from stand to stand was great, but after about two hours I could tell that the heat was doing irreparable damage to my internal organs. Or maybe it was the beer. In any case, as a professional with all kinds of medical training, I instantly recognized the early warning signs of heat stroke. Come get us, Uber. It's time to go to an inside bar.

Once there, the bartender pulled a copper mug from the shelf and began throwing ingredients into it like one of the great Renaissance painters would have thrown their paint onto a canvas. The barkeep sat the drink in front of a customer half way down the bar and almost instantly, the mug started to frost on the outside. I raised a finger to the bartender and said, "Fuck yes, please. I'll have what he's having."

Thus the Moscow Mule was discovered. By me... 70+ years after it was invented.

Ingredients:

• 3oz Vodka
• 2-3oz Lime Juice
• Spicy Ginger Beer (Non-Alcoholic OR Alcoholic will do)
• Simple Syrup to taste
• Ice. Lots and Lots of Ice
• Copper Mug

This drink is easy to make. I always use the philosophy that you should mix shit together until it tastes good, but try this first.

1. Fill your newly bought copper mug to the brim with ice. Crushed works best, but who has time for that?
2. Pour the vodka in. Sip some straight from the bottle as well. To honor the thousands of Texans who follow me, I bought Tito's Handmade Vodka made in Austin. We'll see how it tastes!
3. Add the lime juice.
4. Fill the rest of the mug with ginger beer until it's almost full.
5. Taste it. Sometimes these come away bitter so add that simple syrup until it's perfect.
6. Repeat until you lose the gift of sight.

So try it out! You can buy copper mugs in a lot of nicer grocery stores and Target. Amazon has some really nice ones for cheap if you're willing to wait. I'm not. As always, take some pics, share your thoughts, and keep the drink of the month going strong.

Side Note: Crabby's Ginger Beer (Alcoholic) adds a stupidly killer punch to the drink. If you're feeling brave and you can handle your booze, try it out. You'll have a top shelf Moscow Mule on your hands that'll rival any bar in town.

A Tale Of Survival: Part 2

It’s hard to predict the outcome of a situation when the variables are two children and a mess of inexperience. I’ve mentioned before that I’ve never really been away from my wife for more than a long weekend. So now I’m 4 days into being a single parent and I have 4 left to go. This is what some would call the half way mark. A lot of weird stuff happened. In an effort to avoid a thousand plus word blog post, I’ll try to sum it up with some bullets.

• The boy went full on Paleo on me. Nuts, dried fruit, and nothing else. WTF happened to kids wanting chicken nuggets?
• The boy began calling peanuts penises… so that was fun at the grocery store
• The baby, for the most part, left me alone between the hours of 8pm and 3am
• I got so bored I began arranging old punk rock songs on the piano with little to no success
• The kids screamed, they were good, they fought, they were nice, I drank a lot
• Gin and milk is NOT a good combination
• People went ape shit over a picture of wine in a bag
• And I made the horrible decision of being so cocky that I didn’t think I needed to restock my alcohol supplies. Things got desperate

So all in all, everything above was fairly expected. Nothing really jumped out at me in a way that made me think that maybe I wasn’t prepared to be a temporary single parent. Frankly, it was kind of easy. But as the week went on, I began to realize something I didn’t expect to learn. And that was how completely and utterly dependent I am on my wife.

Disclaimer: I’m about to talk about feelings which is a topic I suck at. Sorry in advance for the incoherent word soup that you’re about to wade though.

Ok… here we go. So the core goals of taking care of two small children are as follows:

• Keep said children alive
• Feed them
• Bathe them regularly
• Bathe yourself because, Jesus… it gets everywhere
• Make sure they sleep

So I rocked the core tenants of parenthood. And I wasn’t expecting anything different. What I didn’t expect, was the emotional toll it would take.

Parenting is hard and it’s draining. My mental game, while usually on point like a mofo, suffered. I forgot stupid things like locking the front door even though we have a legit drug dealer living across the street. By mid-week, I was borderline depressed and my work was suffering. I can’t say that this is the norm for a single parent because I just don’t know. I’m not a real single parent at all, but what I can say is that I need Mad Wife a lot more than I would have thought.

You see, I realized that successful dual parent parenting isn’t just about keeping your kids alive and fed, it’s about working together to raise these freaking monsters while also keeping each other sane and happy. My wife helps me get through the day in ways I don’t even understand. Maybe it’s just her being around, or maybe it’s the fact that when she’s home, I can run out and buy gin at 8pm without having to wonder how unsafe it is to leave a 2 year old and infant home alone.

It’s no surprise that I love my wife, but I truly don’t think I can live without her. To that end, I’m pretty happy that I have two anchor babies and a soul crushing amount of debt in her name. She isn’t going anywhere anytime soon.

Thank god for that.

So My Wife Left For 8 Days: A Tale of Survival

Let’s get two things straight.

• I haven’t cooked for myself in seven years. Sure, I’ve obviously cooked food in the last seven years, and some of it has actually been damn good, but I have not cooked for myself in seven god damn years.
• I don’t actually know how to raise children. Let alone, MY children.

Let me drop some honesty on you. My wife is the cornerstone of this family. The longest I have ever been left alone with these kids was when she went on a girl’s weekend for 2 days. For that weekend, I’m fairly certain my 9 year daughter was here to help. So this is actually first time I’ve been left alone with two individuals who regularly shit their pants for any extended period of time.

This is my tale of survival.

Day 1: 7.5 days till Mad Wife’s return.

0430 hours: I wave goodbye to my wife and daughter as they slip into the darkness and into the backseat of their chauffeured ride to the airport. They’re classy as shit whereas I’m fairly certain I opened the door for the driver in my underwear. I stare as the taillights turn the corner and disappear. The red cherry of a cigarette glows in the distance as the drug dealer across the street no doubt waits for another client. How did he get out on bail so quickly?

0600 hours: Holy shit, why is this baby awake?! What does it want? Why is it smiling so much? The wife normally takes care of this. I think he wants to go downstairs and watch It’s Always Sunny in Philly.

1300 hours: Holy shit that was exhausting. The boy demanded waffles for lunch. He had waffles for breakfast. How many fucking waffles can somebody eat before they’re sick of god damn waffles? Both boys are now upstairs screaming at the injustice of naptime. I wade through a sea of sharp Legos and matchbox cars. I collapse on the couch. I think I fall asleep. Honestly, this time is pretty hazy. I may have had a drink. The wife should be hitting Phoenix soon.

1530 hours: They boys are awake. Let’s do this shit.

1730 hours: Mother of god… it’s dinner time. The boy will not eat dinner. I trick him by saying it’s big snack time. The baby eats everything we own; the boy demands waffles. No fucking way, dude. You’ve had waffles for breakfast AND lunch. You can have chicken nuggets.

I fucking win that shit. He eats everything.

1900 hours: “Alright kiddo’s, time for bed!”

So all in all, Day 1 was a piece of cake! It was tiring for sure, but this single parent thing is nothing. I odn’t know why people complain about it.

Day 2:

0030 hours: Somethings crying… what is that? It sounds human. It’s the baby. Why? Why is the baby crying at 30 past midnight?! I get the baby. We go downstairs and make a bottle because I haven’t prepared anything. He eats the bottle and goes back to sleep. Finally, I can get some rest.

0330 hours: The baby is crying again! Day 2 sucks so far.

0630 hours: That baby is up again, but that’s alright. Time to start the day. One bright side of being awake at 0630 in the morning is there is no way I can be late for work.

0900 hours: God damnit, I’m so effing late for work. How the hell are children so hard to get out the door? I finally get on the highway and see a miles long backup of cars. Fuck this shit, I’m going home. I work from home for the rest of the day.

Evening: The kids were awesome today. It’s weird. It’s almost as if they know I’m not even half as good at parenting as Mad Wife so they’re taking pity on me. Or maybe it’s the calm before the storm.

In any case, I won’t bore you with break downs of Day’s 3 & 4. Everything ran exactly as one with experience raising two kids would expect. If you want the highlights, go back and read the Facebook page, but the first half of my week as a single parent went really well. Unexpectedly well. I had a pretty good idea about how my week was going to go, but I was way off base. Instead I realized something I wasn’t expecting.

I guess we’ll talk about it tomorrow.

So I Guess This Is A Blog Now...

Well shit.

It's in the title, so I guess I need to write something. Anything. It's a blog after all. I like to write. Some have even said I'm good at it. Hell, I've even been paid for it once, but that was a fluke and probably an error in judgement on somebodies part. But as much as I like to write, I don't. I think it's a chronic writers block coupled with a deep rooted laziness that keeps me from biting down and charging through the wall and onto the page. In short, it's a lack of inspiration. I used to write a blog and it was good. But then the boy got a bit older, the baby came along, and I ran out of time to do the stuff that inspired my writing. So now what?

Mad Wife (ex, now) has been bugging me for months to get back into it. Write about the kids, she'd say. You don't know what you're talking about, I'd reply. There's a lot of parenting blogs out there and I find most of them annoying. Why would I spend my time reading about somebody's kid when there's just so much fucking Netflix to watch? So I pushed it off. I mulled over topics for a new blog and came up empty handed every time. So I eventually became to realize one of the things I hate most about Mad Wife... she's usually right.

It's called The Mad Dad Blog and I think to many, it implies that it's a blog about kids and parenting. That's not really accurate. Its about me. It just so happens that, in this stage of my life, my world is wrapped around the tiny pee covered hands of my children. So I hope you enjoy following my Facebook, reading my blog, and sharing an online drink or six with me while I ramble on about the things that are important in my life. I just hope I can put a fresh enough spin on all this garbage to keep you engaged and reading. And if you don't like it, then go back to Pasta Limbs or Shit Moms Say or whatever parenting blog you came from. But... in the off chance that you like what I have to say, then welcome to The Mad Dad Blog.

I think we're going to have some fun.