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.

 

 
        

Pictures of my retirement...The Boy model

Incisors and Bicuspids

The Boy's mandibular central incisor has poked through his premaxilla.  This has numerous negative implications on my life.  Up until now, 4 hours of uninterrupted sleep could be classified as  parental hibernation.  Now, a measly 2 uninterrupted hours and I am 'well rested'.  This may be acceptable to The Boy, but it doesn't work for me (lest he forget who pays the bills around here).  Moreover, the amount of drool in that kid, as a result of his teeth, is astronomical.  We are talking gallons.  The Boy weighs 20 pounds and like the earth he is primarily made of water.

The Boy doesn't crawl or walk like most children, but he does get around via the reverse inch worm.  Just like it sounds, he pulls his knees towards his stomach, his butt shoots in the air, and he kicks his legs back then repeats.  The one caveat is that you would anticipate him moving forward, but he moves in the reverse. 

He now mimics us which I have used as a stepping stool to jump start my comedy career.  When you ask him if he wants to go to school...he responds by coughing.  This will be the first of many life 'lessons' he will learn from his Daddy. 

     

Baseball, The Great Pierogi Race, and Food

In the two weeks since the last blog a lot has changed.  It took Ayden a week to quit moping around after loosing the blog contest, and then something happened.  Our immobile, quiet, well behaved infant started crying, eating, talking (gibberish), laughing, and rolling over.  I think the most quotable line from the first five months was "enjoy them while they are young, they grow so fast."  We must be in the midst of a growth spurt.

Ayden went to his first baseball game.  The Pittsburgh Pirates were hosting the Cincinnati Red Legs for their final home game of the season. The Boy had a great time and it was a beautiful day.  It ended the way any Pirates fan knew it would...with a Pirates loss.  The  highlight of the game was the finale of The Great Pierogi Race.  The two finalist were Cheese Chester and Sauerkraut Sal.  It was a valiant effort by Cheese Chester who overcame Sauerkraut Sal's thuggery (he intentionally tripped Cheese Chester early in the race) and pulled out a come from behind victory.  He was crowned the 2011 pierogi race champion.  And look who got his picture with the champ...that's right, The Boy. 

Speaking of food...

The Boy ate food for the first time (no it wasn't pierogies).  This is a momentous event in the life of a parent.  My wife called me into the kitchen with the anticipation of a kid at Christmas.  The big day was finally here.  She mixed up the rice cereal which does not look like rice or cereal, and prompted me to get the camera.  She then proceeded to paint the babies face with food.  He ate seemingly nothing, but caused us a half hour of cleanup.  Let the games begin. 

Ayden's tip of the week:

To help comfort the babe during sleep it's imperative that you add white noise to your baby's nursery.  Anything will work.  We use a combination of a fan, Twinkle Twinkle Little Scout, and Cloud B Gentle Giraffe.     

The Agony of Defeat

And so it was...after the votes were counted and the editors made their picks, Ayden's blog lost to a website that doled out cooking recipes.  It was an acrimonious loss for The Boy.  He now spends most of his time moping around mumbling, "cooking recipes?".  To add insult to injury, while perusing the kitchen at mi casa, Ayden stumbled upon the aforementioned recipes laying on the kitchen counter.  Mommy cheated.  Unbelievable. 

He is not vindictive by nature but he wants it to be known that he  has never liked Sumner Redstone, and he spends most of his day watching NBC anyway.  So there.

In three months, My baby doesn't speak English has been viewed over a thousand times in 11 countries.  We are very proud of that and want to thank everyone for their support.  Now on to the blog...

Ayden had a blast two week ago at camp.  He went swimming in the river, he slept by the campfire, and he howled with the coyotes.  We promised photos from the camp so here you go.
 

The Boy is now almost 5 months old.  Two days ago he started  rambling incessantly  to no one in particular.  He has discovered his voice.   

Tummy time is still a struggle and Ayden has yet to roll over.  Doc said fat babies take longer, and in some cases it will be 9 months.   The Boy can almost stand on his own and there is a chance he could walk before he crawls.  How bad ass would that be. 

Now for Ayden's tip of the week...

All parents should invest in a video baby monitor.  The portable cordless monitor is the size of a cell phone, and they are super easy to use. It's live streaming audio and video, and it saves you from running up and down the stairs every time you hear a peep.  Spend the extra money, it's definitely worth it.

Final thing...Here we go Steelers, here we go!  

 

To "The Camp"

Ayden's cousin Tyler  

Ayden's cousin Tyler navagating the Pennsylvania backcountry.

Ayden is going to learn how to be a man this weekend.  Enough already with this baby talk, diaper rash, crying, and all around dependence on Mom and Dad.  It's time to become self reliant.  Hey, it's a tough world out there and Mommy's not going to wipe your bum every time you poop yourself.    It's time to strap on your big boy pants and learn how to feed yourself, build a fire, and survive on your own.  That's right...we are going to "The Camp".

A lot goes on at the camp, most of which is shrouded in secrecy.  However, one thing I can tell you for sure is that you go in a sissy, and come out a man.  The Boy's been on a free ride now for 4 months and enough is enough.  We promise lots of pictures in next weeks blog.

Also, Ayden has suggested we start a new feature in each weeks blog.  He feels like we need to give back to the people.  Too much drivel in these blogs (His words not mine.  I sort of like the blog).  That being said, each week Ayden is going to impart one piece of advice to the new parent.  He will give feedback on a toy that he likes/dislikes, diapers that are comfy or tend to allow for 'blowouts' (not like Pauly D from Jersey Shore, think more like poop all the way from his bum to his head), food that taste good/bad, etc.  Maybe his trials and tribulations can save the new parent some heartache.

Here we go....

Every parent should do themselves a favor and buy Sophie.  Sophie is a 50 year old giraffe from Paris, France.  She's 100% rubber and she is expensive (about $20 for what amounts to a dogs squeak toy).  But the Boy loves it.  He loves chewing on her feet, squeezing her to hear the squeak, and banging her off the floor.  We have numerous teething toys and squeak toys and none can compare to Sophie.  So there you go, Ayden's first bit of advice.  There will be one similar each week.  Hope it helps!    

        

        

Mr. Big Shot

This week is a special one for Ayden. Ayden's blog was nominated for most valuable blog of the millennium.  It is an honor sought after by many but bestowed upon few. Unfortunately, Ayden's new found fame has gone straight to his head. For example, he now refuses the notion that in order to walk, one must crawl. He told me in confidence that "crawling is for babies".

  
Additionally, now that his arms are no longer uncontrollable sea monsters, incomprehensible and independent of his thoughts and control, the Boy feels that he's earned the right to pick up and throw everything within his "personal space" as he puts it.

Moreover, he no longer takes milk unless it's precisely 98.6 degrees.  The moment bottled milk from the fridge--that wasn't properly warmed--so much as touches his precious little "I'm a CBS Pittsburgh MVB finalist" lips, his mouth goes limp, he stares directly in your eyes with a blank stare,and he lets the milk slowly trickle out of the side of his face. He knows I know his game, but he just stares off into space like a helpless baby until his Mommy makes it all better.

So thank you KDKA Pittsburgh for transforming my precious 4 month old into an egotistical self centered prima donna. Maybe I'll return the favor when we are deciding where to send him for his college internship. 

And on the 7th Day God Proclaimed...

Ayden was baptised yesterday at St. Paul Seminary in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania.   My brother, the eternal comedian, had this poster printed at his work DFC Screen Printing.    It was four feet by six feet and greeted guests as they walked into the party after the service.  Nice job. 

During the ceremony Ayden could not stop laughing at the Priest.  At one point, Father Joe had to stop and address the audience because he began laughing himself. Ayden's rebirth began by him making a mockery of a 2000 year old institution.  Way to go Boy.           

The reception was wonderful and the Grandparents did an excellent job.  Unfortunately, Ayden ate way too much cake. 

He's really letting himself go lately.

Wedding Day

7/23/11

One of our own is getting married today.  Big Ben Roethlisberger is set to tie the knot and I couldn't be more excited.  I'm representing in my black short sleeve onesie with Polamalu on the back.  Rumor has it the cake is from the same place that my mommy and daddy got theirs (Vanilla).  Not only are my parents very good looking, but they are trend setters as well*. On to more important things...

Spaghetti squash is a real a&#hole .  Daddy and I have been gardening this year and  after spending hours laying down a weed mat, lining up perfect rows, and organizing the entire growing season, we missed one important variable...spaghetti squash is a jerk.  It takes over EVERYTHING.  It has alien like tentacles that latch on to all in its path. 

We are constantly clipping, cutting, and chopping this weed but it continues to grow.  Furthermore, my Dad said Grandma used to wake him every morning uttering the sweet words "good morning glory"...which as it turns out, is another a&#hole.  We have Morning Glories attacking everything that the spaghetti squash isn't.  It's a constant battle between the two vines.  Why don't they live a respectable life like hot peppers, tomatoes, herbs, or corn.  Corn stands tall and proud, while spaghetti squash slithers across the ground looking for it's next victim, hellbent on destruction. Next year I will be gashing the gourds and growing cupcakes instead.      

*not necessarily the words of Ayden

The Long And Winding Road

7/10/11

Traveling in the car with my father is like shaving by yanking one hair out at a time.  It's arduous, extremely painful, and seemingly lasts forever.  I left the Babe in the Burgh and spent the next three hours on the road with my dad discussing why I was such a bad driver.    

Broadcasting live from the Capital City.  Home of Jim Tressel's Buckeye's (formerly), the Columbus Blue Jackets (still an NHL team), Columbus Crew (international football/American soccer), and Kilbourne Pinto Baseball (nephew's baseball team).  We are here for the BV Pinto Major League 2011 Championship baseball game.  It was one year ago today that my nephew's team beat Ostrander for the 2010 Championship.  We are back for the rematch.

7/12/11

Fast forward two days.  We lost the championship game but it wasn't for a lack of effort from my father and the rest of the crazed parents that take Little League Baseball way too seriously.  At any given time someone was getting yelled at, threatened, or kicked out of the ballpark.  The umpire took the most heat.  It's as if the parents thought that the BV Pinto League, with a yearly budget of 250 dollars, paid for professional umpires. In reality, they were two 16 year old pimple faced kids who took the job because no one else would. 

My nephew lost but he took it well.  I know this because he didn't cry and he played 12 hours of Black Ops immediately after the defeat.  One can only surmise that this was a sign of acceptance. 

7/17/11


Fear And Loathing In Pittsburgh, PA

Back in the Burgh with the Babe.  Ayden has recovered well from his vaccinations.  In addition, he is smiling incessantly.  The following phrases make him laugh..."stinky butt, poopy pants, daddy puts your pants back on, bink sucker, little ripper, etc., etc.  I hope it's always this easy.

Mom goes back to work in one week.  No one is happy about this including the dogs Kato and Mali.  Who knew 12 weeks would go so fast.  Unfortunately, it's a reality that in today's world, both parents need to work.   We have agonized over the decision to leave Ayden with a sitter and the thought of leaving our helpless little boy with a stranger is  too awful a thought to bear. We've both been ignoring the inevitable, even though the inevitable is 7 days away.  

Ayden wanted to write a short apology to his legion of fans since his blog missed a day last week.  Since he has no motor control, Ayden will dictate while Daddy types.

"Thank you for your readership.  I am now 12 weeks old and pretty much have this world figured out. As I know it, this is how things are...the United States is the smartest country in the United Sates, The Pittsburgh Pirates are one of the best teams in baseball, there are walking milk factories that feed little babies, and my daddy is the handsomest guy in the world." 

I took some liberties with that last part.         

   

V-Day

This is not what my baby looked like after our latest trip to the doctor.   It was the dreaded vaccination day.  My wife and I both knew it was the day but we dare not even whisper as much as a peep about the impending doom.  We were thinking the same thing...don't say it, or think it, and it just might go away.  After going through the normal ritual of height, weight,  and head measurements it was confirmed...our boy is a biggin.  He's now in the 95% for weight,  90% for height, and he continues to eat and eat and eat.  All hours of the day and night he eats.   The Boy has no respect for societal norms when it comes to meal time.  If it's 2:30 PM or 2:30 AM The Boy is hungry.  We saw a baby at dinner last night and we asked the couple "how old is your child."  I thought they were going to reply around 12 weeks  but they replied "9 months".  Ayden was nearly as big as this kid and he's only 9 weeks.  I digress.  So the doctor runs through her normal litany of tests.  She pokes him, prods him, stretches him, scrunches him, and listens to him.  I began to think we had gotten away with something and then she said the dreaded words so effortlessly and with such ease..."soooo, I guess today is vaccination day".  You're gosh darn skippy it is Doc. 

We spent a half an hour discussing the upside, downside, and all in between.  As it turns out today he was up for three different vaccinations.  The medical community, with all of their intelligence, wisdom, and years of research apparently could not find a way to put three shots into one.  That's right, my baby was about to get stabbed with a needle not once, not twice, but three times.  Not good. 

The doctor turns over this dirty work to a nurse so that there is no blood on her hands.  The poor nurse seemed to be as upset as my wife and I which did not make me feel confident about the whole situation.  She explained what each shot was, and proceeded to lay Ayden on the table.  It was go time.  Everyone was holding a part of my baby as the nurse picked up the needle.  She said "here we go" with a quiver in her voice and she raised the needle high above her head and plunged the steel shaft into my baby's thigh.The nurse depressed the plunger and filled my baby with tears.  At the moment the tip entered my baby's flesh, I think I saw the nurse flinch.   He let out a scream that would've melted the coldest persons heart.  Then we moved on to round two.  Same result.  Finally she grabs the third one and proclaims, "this is the bad one".  What the hell does that mean!  What do you call the first and second one?!  Turns out she was right.  The third one elicited a scream from my child that was other worldly.  I said that is enough.  I demanded the Tweety Bird Bandaid's, grabbed my baby, and we all went home to eat. 

The Boy

Ayden has joined Facebook much to the chagrin of his Father.  I vowed never to join as a result of my busy schedule, but The Boy talked me into it.  He insists it will be beneficial, if for no other reason, then to promote his blog.  I was worried he would use it to search out alternative milk sources which would devastate his mother.  After much deliberation I acquiesced. 

Ayden took his first boat ride last night.  It was jumpin in the 'burgh with the Boston Red Sox in town (Go Bucs), UFC fight on Sunday, and a concert on the North Shore. So we packed up The Boy and headed to our friends boat which is docked on the North Shore for a week full of festivities that ends with Kenny Chesney and the 4th of July fireworks.   Ayden ate at the Jerome Bettis Grille (Go Stillers) and watched the wicked awesome Pirates take one from the Sox.

The Boy went to the Doctor last week and they said he is now 90th percentile for height and 90th percentile for weight.  He is 9 weeks old and already wearing clothes for a 6 month old.  He is officially a little porker.  I think he might need some Baby Spanks.

Finally, I will leave you with this...I took a bath with The Boy a couple of nights ago.  It's an absolute joy being in the tub with Ayden.  He floats on his back, smiles at everything, and just loves being in the water.  Near the end of this love fest I noticed some bubbling in the tub.  Of course my wife blamed me.  I explained that it was the Jacuzzi tub.  Just then, I begin to hear a noise...no, it was more like a low rumble.  It began getting louder and louder and the water on the surface of the tub started rippling like when two mating Alligators vibrate their back muscles in the water during courtship.   The rumbling slowly began increasing in volume until it became a loud roar.  I looked down at our precious little angel and at that very moment poop came exploding out of the business end of my baby.  Not little rabbit turds mind you. This was more of a slimy, sticky, gooey type substance that began coating everything in its path.  If this crap came in contact with something, it latched on like oil on a duck.  I was completely mortified.  I screamed for my wife and looked at this alien child, that just moments ago was floating around the tub so innocently, like he was the devil himself.  My wife grabbed Beelzebub, and I pulled the plug on the drain willing the 'water' into the sewer system where it belonged.  I fired up the shower and began the decontamination process...these are the joys of parenthood:)       

Over The River And Through The Woods...

...to Grandma's house we go.  Destination Centerville, USA.  Neighboring city to Dayton, Ohio, home of the 2010 NIT Champion Dayton Flyers.  We left Pittsburgh at 7:00 PM with an 8 week old breast feeding baby boy, an 11 year old manic Beagle mix, a 14 year old 100 pound geriatric black Lab, on a wing and a prayer.   Five hours and three stops later we arrived.  It's a logistical nightmare transporting our precious cargo across two state lines.  The baby had to eat...we stopped.  The dog had to poop...we stopped.  The adults had to eat...we stopped.  Don't let anyone tell you that things don't change that much when you have kids.  Those people would be considered liars.

We are looking forward to celebrating our first Father's Day, and our second wedding Anniversary in Waterloo, Ontario's sister city.  Upon my arrival I was greeted with a Dogfish Head. Kato and Mali were greeted by their friend 'Eddie the Beagle'.  Katie gets a break from 'The Boy' as a result of doting relatives.  And Ayden gets to meet his cousin Gwendolyn for the first time.

It will be all fun and games until the dreaded car ride back to the 'Burgh.           

       

Sleeping With Pooh

Baby Ayden was sleeping contently when I left to take our two dogs to the vet at 11:00 AM today.  Little did he know of the trials and tribulations that would follow. 

Both dogs needed to see the Vet for very different reasons.  Mali--the11 year old 50 pound Beagle mix-- had been dragging her butt on the carpet for the last two days.  Kato--the 100 pound 14 year  old Black Lab--had been scratching his face and chest incessantly for the last week.  After kissing Ayden goodbye, I took both dogs to the car.

Kato chose to ride in the passenger seat until his back legs gave out and he ended up in the noodle position--half on the seat and half on the floor.  He was unable to right himself so I found myself holding his head up since neither of us could right the wrong.  With one hand on Kato and the other on the wheel, I looked into the rear view mirror and much to my dismay, Mali was dragging her butt across the seat of my car.  While screaming at the top of my lungs for her to stop, and holding Kato steady, we trudged on.

Finally, we arrived at the Vet--visited with the Doc--and cashed out.  5 medications and $350 later, the geriatrics headed home.  When we arrived at home, I found Ayden, sleeping with Pooh, oblivious to the world.

Pictures From Dad's Birthday Party

Ayden was throwing up the rock star sign at my 34th birthday party. 

Got his fresh gear on ready to go.

The aftermath.

(stay tuned for more blog this evening)

Daddy Didn't Put Your Pants Back On

Broadcasting live from the muddy banks of the Monongahela and the adjoining Allegheny, otherwise known as The Confluence, we are back! First of all, the big news as promised--drink...more...Ovaltine (a joke few will get). In light of the current socioeconomical climate, and the state of the US economy, Ayden has decided to get a job. It was a difficult decision but one that had to be made. The family supports him wholeheartedly in his new endeavors. As a result, Ayden will be limiting his blog to once a week (Fridays or Saturdays).

A lot has happened since last time. Ayden took his first real bath with Daddy. He had his first smile (when my wife said "Daddy didn't put your pants back on"...he finds it hilarious). He heard his first concert at the Pittsburgh Arts Festival. And he peed on his own face (not an easy feat). All in all, things are good.

See you Friday.

News

Baby Ayden will be announcing changes to his blog this weekend. Stay tuned faithful followers...

Percentages

Doctor said Ayden is in 90% for height and 60% for weight. I guess that means he's going to bump his head and flying will cost twice as much.

Hines Ward Part 2

An oration of last nights events as told by Ayden Olexa (since Daddy doesn't watch that show).

This is where men are made.  On the frozen tundra and the hardwood of a ballroom floor.  Vince Lombardi once said, "I firmly believe that any man's finest hour, the greatest fulfillment of all that he holds dear, is that moment when he has worked his heart out in a good cause and lies exhausted on the field of battle -- victorious."   It is within this context that the underdog became victorious last night through a myriad of  sashays and toe tapping promenades.    This highly contested battle was fraught with risk and peril, but in the end, the coveted Mirror Ball Trophy found it's way home.  Lombardi Trophy be damned!

Stand tall Steelers Nation...sweet, sweet, victory is ours once again.

   

Hines Ward

Ayden has cast his vote for Dancing With The Stars finale.  He wants to let everyone know that he is the one that watches the show, not his manly Daddy.

The Rapture

Fear not faithful followers, Super Baby survived the Rapture!  I know the lack of a blog on Sunday had the world wondering, "What happened to Super Baby?"  Well rest assured we are all doing well in Pittsburgh, PA.  It was not without worry.  When the Pittsburgh Pirates took two from the Detroit Tigers and were one game away from a sweep, for a brief second, I thought Harold Camping might have known something I didn't.  However, Saturday came and went, the Pirates lost on Sunday, and I explained to Ayden that the world was still in tact and that his future was still promising.  He looked at me inquisitively and then pooped his pants.  I'm not sure he understood the gravitas of the situation but isn't that the beauty of children.     

Tummy Time☺

Tummy time is equally hated by all.  If your sitting around looking to have a bad time, stick your newborn on his or her stomach.  As far as I'm concerned, my kid can slither around on his back all day staring at the sky if it gets me out of tummy time.   The only problem with that is when he goes to school he would have to slither through the halls from one class to the next.  People would constantly be jumping over him.  If he joined the swim team he could only compete in the back stroke.  In football, they would hand him the ball and he would immediately be down.  I suppose it's not the best plan.  I guess we'll have to suffer through it.       

Friday!!!!!!!!!

My baby doesn't speak English but he knows when the weekend is here.  I woke up at 5:00 a.m. this morning and this is what I found.  The little noodle (thanks Linds) was sitting by the front door, in his carrier, locs on, ready to go.  Can you believe it!?  The kid can barely hold  his own head up during the week, but when Friday rolls around, parrrtay!

Navigating The Deep Blue Sea

My baby doesn't speak English, but if he did, I'm sure this is the tale he would tell...I find myself between the Devil and the deep blue sea.  Surrounded by a vast ocean of rubber duckies and waterfalls.  Buoyed up, inches from the depths.  Desperately searching for which way the crow flies, I trudge on. Through torrential down pours and thick sea foam, I pray that this hellish nightmare will come to an end.  The winds are picking up now...2-3-4 knots with 4"swells.  I feel the end is near as I batten down the hatches.  Wave after wave of misery.  Then, just as all hope is lost... bath time is over.  

  

Little Ripper

My baby doesn't speak English but he is a valuable source of methane.  He's been dubbed "the Little Ripper" due to his loud, always audible, bowel movements.  It's quite embarrassing when you hand this perfect little boy, with new, fresh, beautiful soft skin, and that wonderful new baby smell, with a little button nose, and tiny incy wincy little fingers and toes, and he looks at you so innocently, then his face begins to contort, and out of the deep, dark, depths of Hades...RIPPPP!!!  He's not embarrassed since he doesn't speak English.  I'm the one forced to explain away  his complete disregard for societal norms.  "They told us at the hospital this was the sign of a healthy boy", or "the Doctor said he needs 10 dirtys and 8 wets a day, that was only number 9".      

My baby doesn't speak English

My baby doesn't speak English.  Not because he's from some far off land like Australia, Saint Lucia, Puerto Rico, or South Africa.  Rather, I think it's because conversations at this early age-4 weeks-would
be uncomfortable at best.  We would have to discuss why he pooped on daddy's hand or threw up on mommy's head.  Why public displays of flatulence are frowned upon.  Why rainbows aren't as beautiful when they are composed of urine.  Furthermore, I would have to explain his family to him.  "Ayden, your uncle was in the hospital this weekend because he shot a roofing nail into his femur and the best method of removal the doctors could come up with was a claw hammer until they settled on a pair of pliers (true story)."  These conversations would consume ones day and drive parents insane.  So nature assures survival by making the child mute during these early stages of life.  So I'm thankful that my baby doesn't speak English...yet.