Therefore it goes without saying that dining at restaurants has long been one of my favorite pasttimes. The simple fact of the matter is I’m not a cook. MJ is actually pretty adept at the culinary arts, but she gets home long after the metaphorical dinner bell sounds every evening. And I’m sure at least some of you parents out there will agree, there’s nothing like deciding to go out to eat and skip the dinner preparation process that involves a 2-year-old latching onto you and being under foot every time you move in the kitchen.

But as Will nears his second birthday, I’m finding the tables have turned and now going out to eat is the cumbersome task where dinner is involved.

A week ago Will was just getting over his cold and the three of us had been stuck in the house. It was before the spring weather graced the northeast, so we were all dealing with gray skies, sickness and the walls started closing in big time. We decided a trip to Chili’s was just what we needed, so we packed up Will and made the 20 minute drive to tasty burgers and MJ’s favorite chile.

Bad move.

Unlike when Will was a newborn and we could sit him in his carrier and enjoy a quiet meal, he’s now a precocious and annoying toddler. And even though he’s my son and I love him to pieces, when we go out to eat he morphs into a wee little asshole of epic proportions.

At first we tried to stick him in the highchair but he immediately pitched a shitfit. I was OK with that because that one was our bad. He’s too big for a highchair. So I asked the waitress for a booster seat, thinking he’d appreciate the independence and settle down. But all a seat at the table meant to him was that he could exit his booster seat and walk all around the booth. He started grabbing salt and pepper shakers. He went after everyone’s silverware. Then he started pulling pictures off the walls of the booth. And he wanted everyone’s drinks except for his own.

Just for good measure he began shrieking “SODA!!!” as loud as possible.

Our food hadn’t even arrived yet, and we had the exorcist baby on our hands. I think we’ve all, at one point or another, sat near the couple with the screaming baby. And if you’re anything like me, you watch the parents intently and judge them on how they handle the situation. In that moment I could feel all eyes on us. Watching. Judging.

At first we were stern with Will and forced him to sit down. We tried to distract him with toys, his own food (which was brought out first), little games we could play, etc. But nothing worked. Then we told him if he didn’t calm down and stop yelling, he’d get a timeout. Then we gave him the timeout by bringing him to the car and reentering the restaurant.

Still didn’t work. In fact, I think it just agitated him.

There is nothing on this Earth that bothers me more than being perceived as the irresponsible parent who has no control over his kid. I was mortified sitting in that restaurant, and even worse was the fact that I was getting seriously pissed off. So I made the executive decision to cut our meal short. I told the waitress to box up our stuff and I grabbed Will and took him out to the car, muttering how awful he was acting the entire way.

If you’re looking for some kind of insight as to how to deal with unruly toddlers in restaurants, keep looking. I have no pearls of wisdom here. I’m just really pissed off that it’s going to be a few years before my wife and I can actually eat at a restaurant in relative peace.

There are a lot of great things about having kids, but this is not one of them.

I was tying away on the laptop yesterday while sitting on the couch. Will was on the floor flipping through a book. Suddenly he glanced up at me and smiled, and then began pointing excitedly and shouting “Pezza, pezza!”

At first I thought he was asking for pizza, so I went to the fridge because I thought he might be hungry. But as soon as I stood up he immediately started saying “No dadda, no.” It took a few more rounds of me asking him what the hell he was saying before I figured out he was trying to say “pencil,” and reaching for the pen I had behind my ear. I figured because he’s become so fond of drawing and painting lately he wanted to hone his skills, so I got him some paper.

But he wasn’t interested in drawing. Instead, he took my pen and promptly wedged it behind his right ear. And then he flashed me the widest goddamn grin, pointed to the pen and said “See? Like Dadda.”

Apparently he wants to be overworked, underpaid and see all the fruits of his labor get hijacked by online news aggregators who steal content and give it away for free.

But seriously, it’s overwhelming and flattering when your son copies you. We all know how religious I am, and Genesis states, “God created man in his own image, in the image of God created he him.” Of course, in that scenario I’d be comparing myself to the Almighty, which I think we can all agree is pretty accurate. But if you doubt my abilities as Creator, you could also draw parallels to Frankenstein’s Monster. Then again I’d be a mad scientist and Will would be the grossly disfigured, 7-foot-tall reanimated corpse. He is a pretty big kid, so maybe I’m onto something.

Either way, there’s this little being in my house who I am in charge of shaping and molding. And for some reason (most likely because I’m one of two adults he sees on a regular basis) he is going to strive to be like me and act like me. Just like I derived so much of who I am from my father, I now have a 3-foot-tall toddler who’s copying my every move. And this time, instead of repeating an errant swear I accidentally let loose, he was doing something incredibly cute and heart-warming. And in that moment, me looking at him and him smiling back at me, I was nearly moved to tears by the enormity of it all.

Then he threw the pen at me.

Oh well, I’ll take my moments however I can get ‘em.

The American Academy of Pediatrics recommends that children under the age of 2 not watch ANY television. They claim because the brain is developing at such a rapid place and an inordinate amount of learning is taking place, time spent in front of the TV may hinder that development. And even when kids 3 and older watch TV, they recommend 1-2 hours a day.

I think the AAP is misguided on this one.

Without help from the TV, there is no way I’d be able to survive with Will on a daily basis. And that doesn’t make a bad parent, it’s just true.

I’m in charge of getting myself and Will ready in the morning. I need to shower and get dressed. Then I change him and get him dressed. I also need to fit the dog in there too. MJ leaves before Will even wakes up, so I’m flying solo when I do this. And let me tell you right now, if it wasn’t for a combination of kids’ TV shows, I would never be able to get it done.

Will is 21 months old and he is a tornado of activity. He never stops. And usually that’s fine and I love playing with him. But sometimes I need him to stop acting like the Tasmanian Devil just so I can get him dressed or put a coat on him without him throwing himself on the ground and acting like a mental patient.

That’s where my good friends Handy Manny, Thomas the Train and Mickey Mouse save my ass on a daily basis.

He watches two episodes of Mickey Mouse every morning and he loves it. Begs for it actually. He says “Mo Mouse!” over and over again and shouts “Goofy!!” everytime Goofy pops on screen. And just like his father, he’s so tuned in to the show that he really can’t be bothered with anything else going on around him. In fact, one time I caught him watching Mickey on the couch, with a sippy cup in one hand and his other hand shoved down into his diaper. I was so proud!

But the reason I don’t mind him watching TV is because the show has educational value. They’re always teaching things like counting, shapes and colors. It’s not just mindless drivel. Plus it gives me a small window to do what I have to get done.

Yet there is so much controversy over this issue and it’s really divisive among parents.

The “No TV Parents” are unyielding in their criticism of parents who allow their toddlers to watch TV. From high atop their soap boxes, they repeatedly make snide comments about how they don’t need (or in some cases, choose not to even have) TV in their homes. Or if they do, it’s only one certain program for 30 minutes a day. As if exposure to TV is akin to radiation or something, and the second their precious kid watches that glowing box their IQ is going to drop 100 points and they’ll stop developing altogether.

Sorry, but I just don’t buy it.

Will probably watches 90 minutes or so of TV everyday. In the morning and just before bed when we’re calming him down. But the TV is on all day. That’s how I was raised and it’s the only way I can live. That TV has to be on, even if I’m not watching it. I need background noise.

I watched a TON of TV when I was a kid. I did my homework in front of the TV. In college I wrote term papers with the TV on. But I played three sports a year, was an honor roll student, played several instruments and had a ton of friends. I was not some socially isolated deadbeat simply because I watched a shitload of TV. In fact, if anything I think TV definitely helped improve my vocabulary skills and general knowledge. It certainly helped my Jeopardy skills that’s for sure.

As with all other things, it’s about moderation. Am I going to let Will watch TV shows that aren’t appropriate for his age? No. But am I going to limit his exposure to TV? Not really. As long as he remains a kid who likes to play outside, read books and converse with other kids then the TV can stay on.

And as for the AAP, well they’re the same organization that recommends keeping car seats rear-facing until the age of 2. And that is one of the worst ideas I can think of, because when we finally switched Will around to forward-facing he was SO much happier. People need to remember the AAP provides guidelines and recommendations, but parents need to weigh that against their own personal judgment and take it on a case by case basis with each child.

Now I gotta go. There’s a Paranormal State marathon on right now!

To be honest, things got off to a rocky start.

As soon as we got to our friend’s house in Maine, Will wanted to explore. So he was running all over the house and I was in tow, trying to keep him from killing himself. Before I unleashed him I made a preliminary sweep and took care of the danger areas I saw. But with people entering and exit all the time, it was tough. Someone left the front door open and I was about 10 feet from Will when I saw him trying to navigate the step down onto the front porch. But before I could make it over to him it was too late. He stumbled face first into the side of a potted plant.

The poor kid cut the inside of his mouth and blood was everywhere. And not to toot my own horn, but I think I handled it well. Normally blood freaks me out and the sight of my child in pain makes me crazy. But I remembered the mouth and head wounds bleed the most despite not being serious. Soon enough I used cold water and paper towels to stop the bleeding, gave him some Tylenol and soon he was back at it like nothing happened. Although my shirt was ruined from all the blood.

We also saw how big of a discrepancy there can be between kids of the same age.

Will is only 13 days older than the birthday girl, Maddie. But he outweighs her by almost 8 lbs, he’s probably got 3 inches on her, he’s running around and she’s barely cruising and his hands and feet were just gargantuan compared to hers. Honestly, all Will needed to do was start batting airplanes out of the sky and the scene would’ve been complete. He’s just such a big boy. While Maddie still looked like an angelic little baby, Will is most certainly a toddler now. He’s got that big boy look to him now, and his infancy is firmly in the past.

And the other silver lining was I gained a renewed appreciation for MJ. As much fun as I had at the party, I remembered how tough it is to take care of a toddler by yourself. By the end of the day I was EXHAUSTED! He refused to go down for his afternoon nap of course, which meant he was on overdrive for the whole afternoon until he crashed when we left. I’ve said it before but I’ll say it again, I don’t know how single parents do it.

And MJ is quickly finding out that when I get to take Will on my own for an extended amount of time, he learns new tricks. Especially when I’m hanging around my friends.

When we were in Maine, the birthday girl was showing off her cute little trick her parents taught her. They ask her “Where’s God?” and she looks up at the sky and poin ts up. Even an atheist like me thought it was pretty damn cute. Knowing my religious beliefs (or lack thereof), my friend Alex looked at Will and jokingly asked him the same question.

And as soon as Will heard “Where’s God?” guess what he did. He shrugged his shoulders as if to say “Beats me!” I nearly keeled over, but I thought it was just a fluke. But when I asked him again, he shrugged his shoulders again. And so we practiced that and I drilled it into him so now whenever I ask him where God is, he gives an exaggerated shoulder shrug.

This pleases me very much. MJ was not quite as amused. If we do end up having a baptism, Vegas has the odds of me asking him where God is during the ceremony currently at 2:1.

In other news, we’ve rearranged the Daddy Files mansion in an effort to be more kid friendly.

Up to this point we had been using the Pack n Play as a barrier to keep him away from the kitchen and living room area. But it was just becoming too small a space for him to explore. So, as handy as MJ is, she and her father built some shelves for the computer so we could get things off the floor and throw out the computer desk. They also installed some shelves in the closet for added storage.

Now Will officially has full reign of the house, which is a little scary. He likes to bang his head on our glass slider and he can fit through the cat door to the pantry, which is not good. We have to constantly follow him around and shout “NO!” when he tries to touch all the new electrical outlets, computer wires and the baseboard heaters. But truth be told, he’s a smart kid and he’s learning his boundaries pretty quickly.

All in all a good weekend and I was thankful to have him to myself for a while.