Number 3

It's been said that good things come in threes.  Or is it bad things? 

I can't remember for sure, but what I do know is that our brood is expanding and our two kids will be three and our family of four is going to become five. I feel that sleepless nights, those blue sucker ball turkey baster things, and black tar poop is such a distant memory. However, the reality of my situation is that I get to relive those glorious days once again.  Suffice it to say, my wife deals with 90% of it, but I complain nevertheless.  The Boy and his sister (aka Super Diva) are completely clueless.  They have no concept of the impending doom.  Cry, sleep, eat, poop...repeat. Cry, sleep, eat, poop...repeat.

The situation is tumultuous right now. 

'They' have been telling me that it's no longer man on man, but my wife and I need to switch to a zone defense.  Enough already with the football analogies.  I get it.

A Scarlett is born...

Is procrastination a sufficient adjective when you are describing a three year hiatus from
a weekly blog post?  If you have been patiently waiting since 2012 then not only are you a loyal follower, but quite frankly you may need to find better use of your time.  I've managed to lose two dogs (very sad but Kato and Mali have passed) and make 1.75 babies since the last post with the newest child now living 'on the outside' and a third child still biding his time 'on the inside'.  His release date has been granted and we look forward to seeing him in November.   

Scarlett was born within three months of April 2014 depending on which parent signed her up for which event. If you speak to the good folks at the local YMCA where she takes swim lessons, she was born in July 2014 because waiting in line for 3 hours to sign her up for swim lesson that no one wants to attend was my responsibility and I for some reason can't remember her birthday.  As a result, Scarlett has no less than 5 birth dates depending on which organization you ask.

Scarlett is all girl.  She has many nicknames; Scarly, Scarletta, The Devil, Scar Scar, but we typically call her Scarly.  She is between 16-19 months old and has been in three fights, made my 4 year old son cry, and the other day I think we caught her doing push ups. Ayden was withheld from sugar until he was 2, while Scarlett has been trained exclusively on doughnuts and candy.  Her favorite thing to do is ride the city bus which she has affectionately named "The Pizza Bus," because why wouldn't you combine your two favorite things to convey your love for it.

Stay tuned, this one is providing me a wealth of material:)




2014ish

 

Today

A New Year's Poem

'Twas the night before New Year's and all through the house
Not a human was stirring except our baby who never sleeps and is always sick but we still love him although i am sick of being sick, and tired of being tired, and i wish my dog would walk faster on walks but he's 14 so i can't complain too much but people run marathons faster than it takes our geriatric crew to get around the block which by the way has a house on it that is a disgusting filthy mess and the owner refuses to take care of it and oh yea its right next door to my house and i am forced to walk by it really slowly every day because my stupid 14 year old dog can't walk like a normal dog he has to saunter ever so slowly while my blood boils because i'm forced to look at this dump but i'm not complaining im just saying i'm tired (and sick)...again.

The End

  

Santa Baby

The Fat Man made his way through Western Pennsylvania on a steel pony.  The Boy was less than impressed.  As a result, we felt that a closer, more personal encounter would change his perception of Santa.  Where better to accomplish this than the local mall.

The line circled Santa four times and the elf on location notified us that it was approximately 3 hours to see The Bearded One.  Being that this was Ayden's first Christmas, and that we fashion ourselves as good parents (who would do anything for our boy), we got the photographic evidence that cemented our place in the pantheon of overachievers.  Merry Christmas Boy.  Merry Christmas.

 

Ferberized

The Boy is in danger of loosing his 'angel' status.  His wings are on the verge of being clipped. And little does he know it couldn't be worse timing.  With Santa Claus making final preparations, the last thing you want to do is leave a negative impression on the bearded man before he departs for his voyage around the globe.  I tried telling The Boy, but of course he just stares at me befuddled.

In the last 7 months (coincidentally the age of The Boy) I can count the number of times I have slept through the entire night on two hands.  And drastic times call for drastic measures.  Ayden, get ready to get Ferberized.  You see, the boy played his cards too early.  I have become oblivious to the shrill that projects from The Boy's mouth.  Dr. Ferber teaches the 'cry it out method' which would have been nearly impossible for me to follow through with, had Ayden not shown his hand so early.  At this point, crying is like Christmas music.  After a while it gets kind of annoying, but it's bearable nevertheless (full disclosure here...I kinda like Christmas music).

We are getting closer to crawling.  It still resembles an inch worm although he now moves forward and he can cover some ground.  He won't be setting any land speed records, but he can get from here to there.  We learned another trick that I most likely will regret.  He now pounds his fist on the table when he is hungry.  I've tried this as an adult and I can assure you it's not a behavior that will garner a positive reaction from society. 

Ayden recomends a baby jumperoo. Good exercise for baby and a break for Mom and Dad.