At least that's what Lily has been trying to tell us all day, she must be going through some sort of teething/growth spurt. Her vocabulary has definitely expanded and she's probably been talking more the last two days than the first three months combined. I call it "Gettin' lippy."
Had my first playdate with some of the local neighborhood moms and it was a lot of fun. What's not to love? Free food, someone else's toys and house, and the kid chases other kids around while Daddy sits down. Sure, it is a little creepy being the only guy there, but the host has a husband who goes to work later than most and a teenage boy, so it wasn't ALL estrogen in the house. I'm sure we'll end up hosting one sooner or later and I'll be forced to clean our home. Boo.
Two conversations I've had over the last 24 hours worth conveying, and neither of them involved talking directly to the kids. Last night, right at lights out for Mommy and Daddy, I thought for a good 15 seconds, then asked the wife, "What day is it?"
The second was at lunch when I was joking with the baby about how Daddy would have a minor heart attack when Mommy eventually brings her home with earrings. Somehow we got to the wife stating she'd be perfectly fine with a nose piercing. Wait, whaaaaaattttttt? Owen chose this point to chime in that he wants earrings. Great. I'm struggling with the whole earring thing, and my wife is already picking nose jewelry. I'm pretty sure I saw her designing butterfly tattoos in her office this afternoon.
The wife is leaving tomorrow after work to take both kids to visit her parents out of town. And Sam Adams is on sale, gonna be a man-tastic weekend. Did I just use the term man-tastic? I should be thumped.
CK
Thursday, June 30, 2011
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
Thank You Captain Obvious
As the wife was wandering around yesterday morning, trying to decide on the day's wardrobe, Owen ran up to her and cried out, "Mama needs pants!" This is the keen eye for detail that I was certain would one day result in my terrible embarrassment/loss of dignity. It took only a few hours or so for me to feel this cruel bite.
I took him to the library for some new books in the afternoon and he announced he needed to use the potty. Thankfully, he announced it this time. Last time at the library he let me know with a large wet spot on the front of his lil' trousers and I forgot the change of clothes in the car.
We entered the men's room and took the open stall next to an occupied one. After dropping trou, he peed in the potty, which is excellent. He also ripped a room echoer, announced that he was all done, and stated loudly that he pooped about 15 times.
The problem is that we have had some success with the potty training, throwing such wild and lavish parties upon a direct hit, that he is throwing his own mini-parties when he thinks he deserves it. "I pooped in my pants! Yay Owen!" No, not "Yay Owen."
Not only was it mortifying to have him yelling this in a public bathroom, but I also feel bad for the poor guy trying to relax in the adjacent stall. I think I've decided to never go out into public, at least not until he's 12.
CK
I took him to the library for some new books in the afternoon and he announced he needed to use the potty. Thankfully, he announced it this time. Last time at the library he let me know with a large wet spot on the front of his lil' trousers and I forgot the change of clothes in the car.
We entered the men's room and took the open stall next to an occupied one. After dropping trou, he peed in the potty, which is excellent. He also ripped a room echoer, announced that he was all done, and stated loudly that he pooped about 15 times.
The problem is that we have had some success with the potty training, throwing such wild and lavish parties upon a direct hit, that he is throwing his own mini-parties when he thinks he deserves it. "I pooped in my pants! Yay Owen!" No, not "Yay Owen."
Not only was it mortifying to have him yelling this in a public bathroom, but I also feel bad for the poor guy trying to relax in the adjacent stall. I think I've decided to never go out into public, at least not until he's 12.
CK
Thursday, June 23, 2011
Haircut Day
The boy's whimsical blonde locks were starting to turn into 'I'm starting a grunge band' hair, so it was time for a haircut. We've been going to a series of haircutteries for the boy in search of the correct combination of cheap and decent with mixed results.
I discovered the national chain wins on price, but their haircuts make him look like the fifth Beatle in the early 60s. A locally-owned kid's haircut shop is EXPENSIVE, I like to support local business, and they cater to youngins. But they were having a "Princess" makeover party with about 8 squealing girls all getting makeup, hair, and dresses at the time. I learned that my limit on squealing little girls is somewhere between zero and naught point one. My little girl's 4th Birthday party might be my undoing. I digress.
Probably the best combination was the sports shop that offered a decent haircut at a slightly elevated price, with the added bonus of ESPN and/or sporting events on tv throughout the whole place for Daddy to enjoy. But we decided to try yet another option this time around, this one a bit more budget-conscious.
I haven't paid for a haircut since W.'s first term. You see, I suffer from a condition known in the medical community as 'Ridiculous Cow-Lickitis'. My haircuts generally consist of purchasing a $13 set of clippers at Target and letting the wife have at me with the 1/8" guard. Occasionally, she says, "Oops" and I look goofy for a few weeks. Let's face it, I'm not cool, "Oops" is not a problem.
After careful consideration, "If he looks like a white supremacist, it will only be for a few weeks" and "How much will therapy cost if he panics with clippers near his head?", we decided to go for it.
My first thought when I finished was, "I shall call him....Mini-Me."
My second thought was, "Good lord, if he robs a liquor store, they might nab me instead."
Now that he has my haircut, nose, lips, eyes, chin, devious smile, mannerisms, penchant for insanity, ears, neck, body type, butt, head shape, feet, and hands, I'm pretty sure the paternity test on Jerry Springer will be conclusive.
We've had a few days to adjust to it, and I love it. When it's 95 degrees and 95% humidity, it has to be better for him. It also helps me get away with farting since the wife can't tell who's who and what kind of a terrible person yells at a toddler for having gas? Finally, the cost is JUST right at $0. And he already looked goofy, he is my kid after all.
CK
I discovered the national chain wins on price, but their haircuts make him look like the fifth Beatle in the early 60s. A locally-owned kid's haircut shop is EXPENSIVE, I like to support local business, and they cater to youngins. But they were having a "Princess" makeover party with about 8 squealing girls all getting makeup, hair, and dresses at the time. I learned that my limit on squealing little girls is somewhere between zero and naught point one. My little girl's 4th Birthday party might be my undoing. I digress.
Probably the best combination was the sports shop that offered a decent haircut at a slightly elevated price, with the added bonus of ESPN and/or sporting events on tv throughout the whole place for Daddy to enjoy. But we decided to try yet another option this time around, this one a bit more budget-conscious.
I haven't paid for a haircut since W.'s first term. You see, I suffer from a condition known in the medical community as 'Ridiculous Cow-Lickitis'. My haircuts generally consist of purchasing a $13 set of clippers at Target and letting the wife have at me with the 1/8" guard. Occasionally, she says, "Oops" and I look goofy for a few weeks. Let's face it, I'm not cool, "Oops" is not a problem.
After careful consideration, "If he looks like a white supremacist, it will only be for a few weeks" and "How much will therapy cost if he panics with clippers near his head?", we decided to go for it.
My first thought when I finished was, "I shall call him....Mini-Me."
My second thought was, "Good lord, if he robs a liquor store, they might nab me instead."
Now that he has my haircut, nose, lips, eyes, chin, devious smile, mannerisms, penchant for insanity, ears, neck, body type, butt, head shape, feet, and hands, I'm pretty sure the paternity test on Jerry Springer will be conclusive.
We've had a few days to adjust to it, and I love it. When it's 95 degrees and 95% humidity, it has to be better for him. It also helps me get away with farting since the wife can't tell who's who and what kind of a terrible person yells at a toddler for having gas? Finally, the cost is JUST right at $0. And he already looked goofy, he is my kid after all.
CK
My new favorite hobby
Owen is officially in his imagination stage now that he's coming up with random stuff off the top of his head. I've said this just about every stage he's been through, but this is definitely my favorite. And my new favorite hobby is asking him yes/no questions because of the enthusiasm with which he answer "Yes!" or "Noooooooooo!" with a head shake. The answers are usually creative and are not based in reality. Wait a second, maybe imagination means he's laying the groundwork for lying.
For example, he started talking about his trip to Carowinds with Nana and Papa the other day at lunch. He told us how he drove a boat, a car, a spaceship, etc. So we started asking questions. Did you ride a horsie? "Yes!" Did you drive a plane? "Noooooooo!" How about a helicopter? "Yes!" A dinosaur? "Yes!"
So while the witness was cooperative, we decided to check up on Nana and Papa's grandparenting style. What we discovered was shocking.
Did Nana and Papa pinch you a lot? "Yes!"
Did they make you walk barefoot on the hot pavement? "Yes!"
When it was lunch time, did they give you stale bread and luke-warm broth? "Noooooooo!"
Did Nana and Papa make you get a minimum wage job to pay for your own ticket to Carowinds? "Yes!"
Did Nana and Papa really leave you in the car while they had fun? "Noooooooo!" Well, at least that's something.
Did they take you on the biggest rollercoaster in the whole park even though you're too small? "Yes!"
Did they give you some beer? "Yes!"
Did you like the beer? "Yes!"
Do you want more beer? "Noooooooooo!" Good, because Daddy has trouble sharing.
If Nana and Papa want to take you out again, do you think they'll give you a noogie? "Nooooooooo!"
How about a wedgie? "Yes!"
I clearly learned that Nana and Papa are doing an iffy at best job grandparenting. I'll also soon learn whether or not they read my blog.
CK
For example, he started talking about his trip to Carowinds with Nana and Papa the other day at lunch. He told us how he drove a boat, a car, a spaceship, etc. So we started asking questions. Did you ride a horsie? "Yes!" Did you drive a plane? "Noooooooo!" How about a helicopter? "Yes!" A dinosaur? "Yes!"
So while the witness was cooperative, we decided to check up on Nana and Papa's grandparenting style. What we discovered was shocking.
Did Nana and Papa pinch you a lot? "Yes!"
Did they make you walk barefoot on the hot pavement? "Yes!"
When it was lunch time, did they give you stale bread and luke-warm broth? "Noooooooo!"
Did Nana and Papa make you get a minimum wage job to pay for your own ticket to Carowinds? "Yes!"
Did Nana and Papa really leave you in the car while they had fun? "Noooooooo!" Well, at least that's something.
Did they take you on the biggest rollercoaster in the whole park even though you're too small? "Yes!"
Did they give you some beer? "Yes!"
Did you like the beer? "Yes!"
Do you want more beer? "Noooooooooo!" Good, because Daddy has trouble sharing.
If Nana and Papa want to take you out again, do you think they'll give you a noogie? "Nooooooooo!"
How about a wedgie? "Yes!"
I clearly learned that Nana and Papa are doing an iffy at best job grandparenting. I'll also soon learn whether or not they read my blog.
CK
Monday, June 20, 2011
This'll work. Right? Please work.
As we fast approach a full two weeks since we started the 3 day potty training method, I have to admit I might be losing it. I haven't shaved in 7 days, and probably only shaved last week because I had a business lunch on Tuesday and you really shouldn't show up looking like "ZZ Top - the beginning" for those things. I got the bright idea last night that I would continue to rock the scraggle until we got two consecutive direct hits.
There are three things I failed to consider in this decision. Two of them are heat and humidity. The temperature today was somewhere between $%&@ and Holy $%&@. All that heat and humidity makes everything really unpleasant, especially bad facial hair. The wife has threatened to get Frontline Flea and Tick stuff if I don't stop scratching.
The third thing I forgot is the complete and utter failure to date. It's like he puts a cork in it until dinner is cooking (couple of days ago), neighbors are at the door (yesterday), or he JUST got off the throne after 30 minutes sitting there with my iPod (this morning). The wife got several kids books on potty training to loosen things up and he loves them. But only because he LOVES any book where you can see some sort of cartoon buttock. I'm starting to think this is my future:
The good news is, the wife has vowed not to wax her eyebrows until I can shave in a show of solidarity and support. We also like to take a united front parenting approach so we can share in the disaster. She's probably going to kill me, but I found a picture of the last time she went an extended period of time without waxing the eyebrows:
We'll see how long either of us hold out. I'm thinking about 6 more minutes. I can see the shaving cream from where I type, 9 feet away.
Changing topics, one of the things I really need to do is start putting some of the conversations I have down on paper. Maybe a conversation or comment of the day. We had this one last night:
Owen starts at dinner: "Daddy's in the car."
Me: "I'm in the car? Where am I going?"
Owen: "Yes."
Me: "Okay. So I'm in the car going to yes. Is there anyone else in the car?"
Owen (excited): "A octumpus!"
Me (gently parenting): "No, it's 'AN octumpus'. Go to timeout for bad grammar."
Maybe that last line isn't accurate.
CK
There are three things I failed to consider in this decision. Two of them are heat and humidity. The temperature today was somewhere between $%&@ and Holy $%&@. All that heat and humidity makes everything really unpleasant, especially bad facial hair. The wife has threatened to get Frontline Flea and Tick stuff if I don't stop scratching.
The third thing I forgot is the complete and utter failure to date. It's like he puts a cork in it until dinner is cooking (couple of days ago), neighbors are at the door (yesterday), or he JUST got off the throne after 30 minutes sitting there with my iPod (this morning). The wife got several kids books on potty training to loosen things up and he loves them. But only because he LOVES any book where you can see some sort of cartoon buttock. I'm starting to think this is my future:
The good news is, the wife has vowed not to wax her eyebrows until I can shave in a show of solidarity and support. We also like to take a united front parenting approach so we can share in the disaster. She's probably going to kill me, but I found a picture of the last time she went an extended period of time without waxing the eyebrows:
We'll see how long either of us hold out. I'm thinking about 6 more minutes. I can see the shaving cream from where I type, 9 feet away.
Changing topics, one of the things I really need to do is start putting some of the conversations I have down on paper. Maybe a conversation or comment of the day. We had this one last night:
Owen starts at dinner: "Daddy's in the car."
Me: "I'm in the car? Where am I going?"
Owen: "Yes."
Me: "Okay. So I'm in the car going to yes. Is there anyone else in the car?"
Owen (excited): "A octumpus!"
Me (gently parenting): "No, it's 'AN octumpus'. Go to timeout for bad grammar."
Maybe that last line isn't accurate.
CK
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