And now noodad, ask yourself: Would I let my kids play with the toys I had as a kid?

1. Fisher Price Garage: This thing is awesome. It has 4 little cars and 4 little drivers. There is an elevator that takes them to the top and a ramp to drive them down. The problem with this is that the little drivers also make great esophagus corks. Fisher price has since re-designed the little people to be so wide that only Rosey O"Donnell needs to worry.
 

2. Happy Apple: It has a nice look, solid construction and makes a jingling noise that babies love. Happy Apple? MISNAMED! More like Happy Medicine Ball.  It weighs nearly 5 pounds and is extremely dense for its size. Look at the age on the box, 3-months to 3 years! Imagine a 3 month old with a 2 year old brother and the 2 year old drops Happy Bowling Ball on the baby"s head? The stem and leaves, which are advertised as helpful for teething (should be choking), can also come off. The original version had a super long stem that they changed to a shorter, easier to swallow version in 1979.
 

3. Clown Jalopy: It has one of those long, strangly pull chords and it looks like a character out of the Spawn comics.  I loved this toy as a kid (I think it"s older than I am) but it scared the crap out of my kids.  Just look at it! It"s pure concentrated evil.

Predictions for future toy bannings:
1. Thomas the Tank Engine: These clearly allow kids to model terrorist scenarios involving railroad demolition.
2. Leap Pad Letter Magnets: Farmer Tad and his speech impediment accused of building a generation of "A" mispronouncers. (He says Eeeh).
3. Razor Scooter: The name is sooooo sharp!

What can you add to this list?

And now for the introductions… 

In this corner, the original mouse with the squeeky girlfriend and the goofy entourage, Mickey Mouse!

In this corner, with a Whack-A-Mole machine in one hand and a cheap pizza in the other, Chuck E. Cheese!

Who would win in the house of mouse? Let"s get it on!

Curse you Jack Black – I know you are to blame. Last week my son was watching a commercial for Nacho Libre.  It was a spoof advertisement promoting the upcoming release of the Nacho Libre movie with pretend action figures.  In the commercial the children show the versatility of the toy: it flies (when you throw it against the wall), it’s a bookmark (when crammed awkwardly in a book) and you can pick your nose with it (which a kid actually does).  My son was so excited when he told me about the great new toy he had seen on TV.

“Daddy, you can pick your nose with it!” he beamed.  

“That’s not a real commercial son, they are just kidding,” I advised.

“No, it’s real,” he insisted.

“No buddy, it’s not.  You can’t pick your nose with it.”

His reaction was heartbreaking.  His shoulders slumped forward.  He head hung low.  He turned and took slow, dragging steps towards his room.  It was the kind of reaction you expect when you tell you child that they can’t have a puppy.  My son was disillusioned and downtrodden by the fact that he could not pick his nose with a miniaturized version of Jack Black dressed as Luchador.

Last night at the end of story time my son was drifting away.  In the twilight of consciousness he paused before slipping into deep sleep.   Dreamy eyes opened from the very edge of slumber as he leaned over to me to whisper his final concern for the day.

“Daddy, I miss that guy.  I don’t see him anymore.”

I knew exactly who he meant.  He meant Jack Black.  Yet I asked anyway.

“What guy pal?”
 
“The singer on the TV.  I miss him.  The one who sang that song.”

“Do you mean the guy that sang “Jack-Jack-Jack, Jacka-Jacka-Black on Nica-Nica-lo-deon?”

“Uh huh.”

Damn.  His final lucid thoughts for the day were about Jack Black’s commercial promoting the Nick Kid’s Choice Awards.   The grandmothers may have been right.  But then again, that song was really catchy.  When I think about it, it gets stuck in my mind for hours.  In fact, the TV set is still on.

Curse you Jack Black.

The point is, you will never have enough money for a kid. And there isn't any real good formula out there either to determine how much you need. You aren''t saving up for a PS3 here fellas, you need to take care of life necessities. But it varies in cost. For instance, you will go through a ton more diapers in the beginning. That slowly fades away. If you do formula instead of breastfeeding, it will be very expensive for the first few months, then, as you start introducing solid foods, it will lessen. The point is, there is no "magic number" that you need in your savings account to afford a kid. And if you think there is, you will never reach the number. Once you and your spouse decide it's time, just go for it.

You will never sleep as much as you did pre-birth or pre-adoption. But that doesn't mean you will become some owl. Your body will learn how to become more efficient with the sleep you give it. You will also naturally learn to take shorter, more potent naps whenever you get the break. I conveniently use my 45 minute train ride on the way home from work to get my winks in. By the time I get home, I am regenerated from a long day at work and ready to take on the family until bedtime. So to recap, it's not that you won't sleep, it's that you won't sleep on your terms, any longer.

This simply will not happen. Here's why: early on, you will get hosed by your little piss painter (Dane Cook reference). But you will not get peed on every day because no one likes to get pissed on. It smells, it's dirty, and it tastes too salty. So the human skill of behavior modification prevents you from diving into a dirty diaper with reckless abandon twice. Piss on me once, shame on you. Piss on me twice, shame on me.

Once a gamer, always a gamer. The difference post-birth/adoption is how you play them. The days of sitting in your underwear, scratching your nuts, with a pizza, and a 6-pack, playing Metal Gear Solid all night, are over. You will now only have time to play for small amounts of time. This typically means less involved games where you need to be "in the zone" and more games where you can cut to the chase. I'm talking less Tomb Raider and more Battle Mode with Eddie Gordo and Heihachi. So don't pack up your XBox for good — just count out the times where you buy a game and play non-stop until you finish it.

You will never HAVE TO buy a minivan. The interesting thing to note is you will probably WANT TO buy a minivan. I hear you crying out in disbelief, "Why Noodad, why?" It is because it is so darn easy with kids. You have automatic sliding side doors. You have built-in DVD players. Heat and A/C zones. You will envy your minivanning friends and you will want to get one. But that isn't the only option. Wagons are good options and so are most SUVs. Still, if you do decide to get a minivan, go for the whole enchilada. You might as well get it tricked out.

If this is even a remote concern than you should worry about your 8-Track collection too. Come on guys, this is 2006. First off, I am not saying you shouldn't have a VCR. I have a working one that I keep operational. (Actually I should say, Disney, with their lame vaulting process with Beauty and the Beast has kept the VCR operational.) What I am saying is:
A) There are VCR guards that prevent sandwich incidents
and
B) What is your kid doing walking around with a sandwich. It normally means you are not paying attention. In which case, you deserve to get a piece of bologna mess up your tracking.

People think there are only 2 types of kids: bullys, and those they beat up on. I'm here to tell you that more times than not, there is no clear bully. Many times, both kids beat up on each other. But in the off chance that your kid does get a beat down from a bully, the last thing you will do is track down his parents, go to their house, and possibly get beat up too. That only happens on TV. Here's what really happens: You call the school and complain. The school calls the bully's parents. Sometimes, in rare instances, there is a confrontation in the principal's office. Most of the time, the bully's parents are as embarrassed about having a bully for a kid as you are for having a kid that gets a beat down. If problems persist, you sue their ass. See? Not too bad right?

You may have a weak stomach for smells and squishy brown things but trust me, you won't have the time nor the desire to put on a clothespin. First off, those things hurt on your nose. Secondly, the smell is not that bad in the heat of the moment. It is only when you empty the diaper pail a week later that you need to be careful. Individually these bombs can be handled. When 30 or so of these join each other in a Diaper Champ, it forms of force more powerful than the Death Star but you need not worry about individual changings.

Yes, the numbers of kids who have allergies to nuts is increasing. But that does not mean you can't have peanut butter anymore. It means that your pediatrician will advise not giving any to your kid until they are at least 2 years old. And even then, to expose them sparingly. It also means that you need to pay closer attention to what you feed them. Only in severe cases, do kids have reactions to nuts when airborne. So just don't pelt your kids with peanuts and you are fine.

But there are perks: during Halloween, you rake in all the Reese's Peanut Butter Cups.

Here's the grand puba of them all. Let's face it, you will never have the same kind of sex you had pre-marriage or before pregnancy. And for most men, that pre-kid action wasn't  even enough. But the notion that having kids means a chastity belt installed on your wife is B.S. It will rarely be her, it will be you. There will be a transition phase after the birth where you will not get anything. This is not necessarily because of a lack of desire, it is most likely due to simple health reasons, and the fact that you and your wife will be more tired than you are used to. You will no longer have full weekends and nights with simply nothing to do except have romps in your house. You now need to set aside time to specifically work on your relationship. Do that, and the sex will come.

As always, send your emails to contact@noodad.com with suggestions for content, feedback on the site or to submit your own article.  Thanks for visitting the site. We"re looking forward to another crazy week at noodad.com. Register today to post comments and please check out our new sponsor! It keeps the site nice and free!

Now for the introductions… 

In this corner, the classically trained, able to fly with the pat of their legs, foursome with rhythm…Little Einsteins.

And in this corner, the super group of friends who like to go inside each other, the weeble-ee, the wobble-ee…The Higglytown Heroes.

Let"s have a good fight gangs. No rocket ships and pizza guys allowed.

Who will win? You decide noodads.

This is the second match of our Noodad.com Battle of the Week Series. Last week, Grimace slaughtered Barney in a purple mess at the noodad.com Arena. If you would like to suggest a kid character matchup for upcoming battles, email: contact@noodad.com

If you have a place that you want to protect from curious toddlers, use this lock. Heck, if you want to protect all your noodad.com stock from would be bank robbers, use this lock. Forget dobermans, this lock has more bite. He will knock your kid down and spit in their face for trying to defeat him.

Its application is simple: Have a cabinet with door handles that close side by side? Instead of preventing your kid from opening the door, why not use the power of plastic zippers to tension-weld the handles together? By looping each end of the bowties around each handle and pulling the zippers taut, you have converted your liquor cabinet from minimum security to The Rock.

You may be asking yourself, "Zippers? Are you kidding me?" To which I reply with this point of credibility: Chuck Norris can"t get into this lock. And no one messes with Chuck Norris. Remember those toy motorcycles we had as kids where you pull the plastic zipper and it makes the wheels on the bike spin crazy fast right off your dining room table? That type of tension requires a serious grade of plastic with deep, sharp zipper teeth. So sharp in fact that if you don"t have well moisturized hands, it can rip the skin right off your fingers.

So just lube up with some Jergens right? Wrong. That"s where you realize the true power of the Bowtie of Pain. To disengage the lock you must depress the plastic yellow diamond and the side yellow button while pulling out the zipper. Purell on the thumb will turn into Purehell of a time getting good leverage., That finger will slide right off. And make no mistake, the Bowtie of Pain will mock you for it.

Now imagine, the feeble hands and limited dexterity of your kids trying to get into these locks. It"s a battle that is as one-sided as Drago vs Creed. Your kid will be the one saying, "Throw in the damn towel!" And don"t think you are immune. This thing will "break you" too.

I have been working on one of these locks for years now. I still have hidden Christmas gifts from 2003 behind one of these things. It works and it is worth your money. Go buy them.

Anyone else have experiences with these suckas?

Bad idea.  Hertz charged us ten dollars… PER DAY! I could practically have bought a friggin booster seat for that.  So here is what I suggest.

Unless you're the Kaiser of Utah or have a trust fund,  I suggest bringing car seats along if you are staying for more than a day or so.  If you just have too much to bring with you, have a relative pick one up and meet you at the airport or rental care company with the car seat.  

Nesting refers to a mother’s innate response to prepare your offspring’s habitat prior to birth and it is something humans share with other members of the animal kingdom. Turn on Animal Planet or The Discovery Channel and you’ll see some examples. 

Expectant female bass make a circular bed for their eggs by sweeping common lake debris like small stones, used condoms, and rusty Bud cans out of the way with their tails. Loggerhead turtles schlep cumbersome girth seventy feet up a beach in the middle of the night to dig a hole in the sand, deposit their eggs, and cover them up until they hatch.

What you won’t see on the nature shows is the female bass browbeating the male into assembling a crib four months early; or the male loggerhead trying to apply that cute teddy bear border—straight and with no air bubbles, God damn it!—under the watchful eye of Mrs. Turtle.  No, future dads, that’s all you.

Nesting usually starts innocently enough. ‘Hmmm,’ says your wife, with a hand on her chin, tapping her lip with her index finger, ‘The baby is coming pretty soon. We should really clean those dust bunnies from underneath the fridge. Today.’  Today’ will be a Sunday if the gestation period coincides with the NFL schedule. Instead of settling in from 11AM to 8 PM on the couch in sweats, you’ll be doing more useful, imperative things like sterilizing bottles and boiling silicone nipples.  

While your wife will initiate the nesting phase, don’t be surprised if you jump on the bandwagon. I decided that a month before my first son was due was precisely the right time to investigate one of the loose tiles on the shower wall in the only bathroom we had at the time. With a flathead screwdriver I carefully pried at the crumbly grout around a single tile. As one side came free, about a third of the remaining tiles crashed into the tub. The rock lathe wall was mushy and black with mold from all the water that had seeped behind the tiles. Behind that, soggy insulation slumped between 2 x 4s damp with mildew. A complete disaster. Luckily, my brother-in-law is a plumber and my brother had some construction experience; so we were able to piece a bathroom together by the time my wife and I returned from the hospital. Without them I would have been screwed.  

There are lessons to be learned from my nesting mishap. First, follow the lead of every other male in the animal world and let your wife drive the nesting process. Don’t mess with Mother Nature. Second, keep it simple. Her idea to wash all the baby clothes in Dreft and place them neatly folded into the dresser is way better than your brainstorm to try to refinish the hardwood floors. Finally, have fun with it. Nesting will provide you with some humorous tales with which to regale your friends and family. ‘Remember a few weeks before I had Joey? When we were baby-proofing the living room? You had one eye on the Red Sox game and accidentally stuck your finger in the outlet when you were putting in those plastic cap thingies! I hadn’t seen you jump like that since I told you I was late a few weeks after we hooked up in college for the first time!’  Ha, ha, ha!

Be prepared for nesting, but don’t be afraid.  Like the rest of the pregnancy, you will survive.  Best of luck noodads!