Read Before Signing

So we signed up our oldest for t-ball. I love baseball and we wanted to get her in some sort of team sport this year so it seemed like a perfect fit. When my wife was filling out the forms she got to a section about "would you be interested in being a coach or volunteer?" When she asked me I said sure, figuring I'd be helping out the coach or something. I pictured being in charge of putting the straws in the juice boxes or something. Then I got an email today and apparently I'm the coach. You'd think having three kids, I'd be used to trying to do something fun and ending up with unexpected responsibilities but it still surprises you.

Now when I say responsibilities but that may be a bit of an exaggeration. My understanding is I need to call the parents to let them know about Tuesday's game, hand out shirts, caps, and schedules, and put the ball on the tee for each kid to hit without catching a bat in the jewels. I'm going to make sure someone brings a video camera just in case I fail on that last one. I don't watch AFV much but ten grand is ten grand.

Anyways, it should be fun. A bunch of little kids learning to play a great game together, what more could you ask for? Plus I'm hoping I'll finally get a chance to recreate that great speech from Bull Durham. Who says dreams can't come true?

P.S. If anyone is looking to bet on the game, I'm predicting a final score of "I don't know how to count yet" to "look, I caught a butterfly with my hat."

The Young Equestrians Club

I enjoy playing with the kids but I think once the third one starts joining in I'll be in real trouble. I picture those old midget wrestling matches where it's three little fellas against a full sized guy. It sounds pretty funny but you just know the big guy is going to catch a shot in the nads and the ref is going to get bitten on the ass. Although if I got to wear a cool luchador mask it might not be all bad.

Anyways, we were playing the other day and eventually it came time for everyone's favourite game, horsey ride. Basically, I get all the fun of crawling around and basically doing pushups with two youngsters on my back. Lots of laughing, lots of kids falling off and then trying to jump back on. Nothing out of the ordinary until I made the mistake of asking what the horse's name was. A pause while she thought it over and then the big one says "Bunmaster". WTF? I don't know where she got that from but bursting out laughing only encouraged her and I was Bunmaster for quite a while. (Now that I think about it though that would make a decent wrestler name.) You would have thought I'd learn from the mistake of laughing but I don't.

Same game and apparently the little one thought Bunmaster was hungry so she grabbed a couple chips from a nearby bag. Thank goodness they weren't stale. She fed me a couple which was fine. Then came the handfuls. Than came the handfuls while my mouth was still full. The combination of my chewing, choking , and laughing didn't help matters. The big one immediately jumped off my back and grabbed a Tupperware container. She started dumping chips into it and I knew what she was doing. "I'm not going to eat out of a trough."

"But that's what horses do."

So I had no choice. Bunmaster ate out of the trough and everyone was happy. I just wonder what the baby is going to come up with when she gets to play. I think I'll make a point of teaching her that horses like to eat junior mints. If I'm going to have junk food shoved in my mouth, it might as well be the best.

First Round Draft Pick And A Baby To Be Named Later

Do you have any idea how many law enforcement agencies get involved if you try to trade babies with someone? Depending on if you're talking simply domestic or full on international it can be between 4 and 12. Ok, I'm just guessing on those numbers but I'm sure it's on my list of things to find out. That stems from a conversation my wife had with one of her friends the other day.

She was chatting online with another mom friend from Australia. It was 3 in the afternoon here and about the same time there but in the am. Our youngster was asleep in her swing and hers was awake and cranky. A relateable scenario since it's one that takes place at our house nightly. Being a super problem solver I pointed out the obvious solution that we should just trade babies. Sure, our new kid would have an accent but they speak English in Australia so at least we'd be able to communicate with the kid. (I still have no idea how parents who adopt babies from places like China are ever able to talk to their children. I assume the youngsters come with translators or something.) Apparently my perfect solution brings up all sorts of ethical issues, not to mention a buttload of legal ones. I guess we'll just have to stick with the kids we've got and learn to deal with the sleeplessness. (I must be tired because that seems like way too many ss's but spell check disagrees.) Thank goodness they're cute.

Can't Turn Your Head For A Second

Don't you just love how an under supervised child will almost always give you tangible evidence about your own misguided belief that "they're fine on their own for a few minutes." Seriously, you just turn your back to type an unnecessarily long sentence and they're covered from head to toe in bright orange 2 for $6 stickers. By the way, if anyone asks you why there's only 999999 roils of stickers instead of 1000000, just tell them you have no idea what they're talking about.

Anyways, you would have thought I'd learned by now from the haircutting incident, the "I'm all spicy" incident, or hte time our youngest shot Mr. Burns. Ok, that last one was a Simpsons episode but still a valuable lesson about both gun safety and parental supervision. I just don't seem to learn though. I just take comfort in watching other people's kids doing stuff they probably shouldn't. A prime example of that was this past Easter weekend. The girls got a chance to play with their cousins. Our oldest just turned four and the twins are almost five so they have lots of fun together. You figure if you've got four kids playing together at least one of them will be responsible. In fact all of them were doing great but then a wild card was thrown into the mix.

The wild card was another little girl in the yard behind where they were playing. She wanted to join in on their fun, as the girls told us when we became curious about why they were all congregating by the back fence. We told them that it was just a day for family and they went back to playing. Before long they were back at the fence though and this time something seemed to be hanging over it. Upon further inspection it was quite obviously a rope draped over the fence. Immediately my wife went out there to tell them not to climb the rope. She assumed the little girl had tossed it over so our kids could climb into her yard and join her. When she got to the fence it was so much better. The girl had indeed tossed the rope over the fence so she could play too. The best part was she had tied the other end to her belt and wanted our kids to pull her over the fence. My kid side had nothing but respect for the creative problem solving involved and would love to have my kids know someone that inventive and imaginative. My parent side though realized my kids come up with enough bad ideas on their own (ok, I may bear some responsibility in that department) that they don't need to get more from outside sources. I just love that it was someone else's kid for once showing less that perfect judgement while left unattended. I only wish the girls had gotten her part of the way up the fence so her parents could turn around and wonder how their little girl was levitating.

I suppose I should get back to parenting and clean up the giant stickertastrophe that is our basement. If you're in the market for a cranky youngster with a runny nose, there's apparently some deals to be had over by the couch, which also appears to be on sale 2 for $6. As I look around the kid, the couch, the TV, my pants, the baby's swing, and of course the baby are all selling 2 for $6 today. Oh crap, the dog's on sale too. Stickers on fur, awesome.

4 Years Old Already?

So we're now the parents of a 4 year old. Kind of hard to believe since it seems like just yesterday that we were getting used to having a little baby around. Actually, we were doing that yesterday but that was the newest one so it doesn't really make my point. All I know is our little girls seem to grow up so quickly. The cool thing is the 2 year age difference between each means we've got our own little developmental chart. If we get them standing in a single file row it looks like the evolution of man. The problem with evolution is they get smarter.

In the past week or so that's become quite apparent. There was the day I was telling the story of the time our dog peed on another dog. A friend of ours was visiting with her dog, who is ten times better behaved than our dog. Her dog was sitting ever so obediently in the kitchen when Mojo decided to take the opportunity to mark his territory. Apparently in his mind he considered this new dog part of his territory because he let loose right on her. To her credit she didn't' budge which is more than I can say for myself the time he peed on me. So after the story there were lots of questions including if it was a boy dog or girl dog. When I said it was a girl dog there was one more question. "How did you know? Did you check and see it's, kind of, vagina?" On the one hand I was happy to see she understands physical characteristics that differentiate genders and the proper terms for those parts. On the other hand, I was a little concerned that she thinks I would get down on all fours and check out a dog's bits and bites in order to find out if it's a girl or boy dog.

"No sweetie, my friend told me it was a girl and I just assumed she was right." That's what I said after I stopped laughing my ass off. Of course the laughter only encourages her.

She's becoming very aware of how cute she can be and how to use that. Last Monday after the kids had been put to bed my wife and I were in our room watching The Big Bang Theory, easily one of the top 5 shows on TV. With all the laughing we didn't notice someone had snuck into the room and was sitting on the floor. Once we saw her she looked at us with a big smile and said "this is a good movie, can I watch too?" The combination of cuteness and good taste left us with no other option than to say yes. It sets a dangerous precedent but what could we do?

I don't always give in though. The night before her birthday last week I was tucking her in and we were talking about the fun we'd have tomorrow. Apparently, it was very important that she "look pretty" so she had big plans for her outfit. Then she told me all about what I was supposed to wear. She told me I had to wear white pants, a white sweater as well as a bow tie and hat. If she'd given me more than 9 hours notice I might have been able to pull it off. As it stands I'll have to file that outfit away in the memory banks so I can dust it off for a special occasion. I figure birthdays 12 through 18 would be just special enough. That should give me enough time to find just the right bow tie as well as learning how to do the Carlton dance from Fresh Prince. The girls' teen years will be a truly magical time for them.

Bad Influence

Ok, our youngest is definitely in trouble. I don't just mean the trouble caused by having me as a parent. I'm not always the best influence. For instance, last week I got a timeout for horsing around on the stairs. Honestly though, if you're not supposed to jump down the stair then why are the turning points called landings? It's a good thing there aren't any real spacious landings in our house. When I was a kid we had a nice big landing so I set up some couch cushions and then jumped from the half wall overlooking the staircase. My occasional poor judgement aside, the issue here is the youngest is going to be in trouble when she's older because of her sisters.

A couple days ago the oldest went to use the potty with her little sister following behind. No real problems there. A few minutes later little miss potty trained came back into the room with some news for me. "Daddy, I told Cameron to clean the toilet and there was, uhh kind of, pee in it." As soon as the words were out of her mouth her little sister comes bouncing into the room with a wet face cloth in her hand.

"Oh crap. You know you're not supposed to clean toilets like that. We have a toilet brush to clean the toilet with."

"She couldn't use the brush because I was using it. So I gave her the towel."

On the one hand I can't fault her logic but at the same time I cringe for what the future will hold for our little baby once she's old enough to take orders. At least we can look forward to having toilets that are absolutely spotless.

A Mind Is A Terrible Thing To Waste

You would think that having three kids in under four years we would remember how it goes. Either my memory is crap or the lack of sleep has ruined my, umm what's the word, head thinking thingy. I want to say skull penis but that doesn't sound right. Whatever it's called, mine is not exactly working at optimum capacity.

It's been a week and half now and it's been a bit of an adjustment. I'd forgotten how much babies like to wake up at night. How often they need to be fed and how many times they poop in a given day. I think that last one is more a suppressed memory than anything else. I've changed plenty of diapers in the past 4 years but this kid can still drop a load that brings me close to the brink. Hats off to the little stinkpants.

Anyways, back to my mental deficiencies. With three kids that like to wake up at varied intervals throughout the night it can cause some confusion. My wife is in charge of actually feeding the baby 9 times out of 10, either by bottle or breast, so that leaves making bottles as my job. The problem is we've got 3 girls that all require different bottles or sippie cups as the case may be. So the other night I get woken ever so pleasantly by a crying baby, my wife's voice, and eventually a well placed shot to the ribs. She asks me to get a bottle for the middle child (who's down to spending only half the night with us). I get up and head to the bathroom to turn on the hot water, thinking I'm supposed to get a bottle for the baby which of course needs to be warmed first. Back in the bed, number 2 and mom are left totally confused. She's sitting there shaking her sippie bottle at the bathroom with a perplexed look on her face before turning to her mom and giving an "I have no idea what he's doing" shoulder shrug. Apparently, I need to start listening to exactly who I'm supposed to be getting things for before springing into action.

If I did, I wouldn't be bringing sippie cups of milk to our newborn, or scooping powdered formula into my wife's water glass. Another helpful tip is if you're going to pour formula into one of those bottles with liners, make sure there's a liner in it first. In hindsight, putting the one with a liner on the counter beside one that was empty wasn't my best idea. Not surprising though since we're being sleep starved into stupidity. With that said I should get to bed so I can get up at 2, 4, and 6 to make bottles, get milk, water, and diapers for people and of course, try to operate the microwave with my TV remote.

And Then There Were Three

So our newest little girl entered the world last Thursday. Everything went pretty well. We had to wait around a few hours. Not sure why you have to get there so early, it's not like we're taking an international flight and have to go through security or something. On the other hand, we can bring as many pairs of scissors or bottles of lotion with us as we want so it's pretty much a wash.

Anyways, having that time to wait was actually a nice little break. No one asking me to fill their sippy cup or jumping on my back when I'm not looking. Apparently, our middle child has recently made the decision that the only viable form of transportation when it comes to stairs is riding on my back. I'm like Luke Skywalker in Empire Strikes Back with my own little Yoda on my back as I traverse a swampy obstacle course. Ok, the house is actually pretty clean at the moment but you get the picture. The main differences being I don't have the power of the force and the only pearls of wisdom coming from my "Yoda" is "where my bottle be?"

Got a little distracted there. Like I was saying, we got to just relax and watch a movie while. Pineapple Express is pretty funny but if you ask my wife she'll probably say the uneasiness brought on by impending major abdominal surgery took away from the humour. I didn't get that but we don't always agree on movies. Not that we had much time to discuss it because she was taken to the O.R. soon after. The surgery went well. The doctor seemed to put a whole lot of muscle into it when needed (my wife figures he was taking out his frustrations on her) which got the job done. Before I knew it I was holding our little girl while all the king's men went about putting my wife back together again. (Debated about using the actual nursery rhyme quote there but saying Humpty Dumpty would have caused me more trouble than it was worth.) That was followed by a four hour wait in recovery caused by a combination of a body temperature issue, a shift change, and the fact that apparently only one dude in the entire place has a license to push a bed. Seriously, it was easier to find four nurses, three doctors, and an anaesthetist than it was to find someone with the rarified skill set necessary to push a bed that's on wheels. The kids are ticking away like time bombs in the waiting room anxious to meet their new sister but let's play Where's Waldo with the gurney guy.

Eventually, a couple of the nurses moved us over to a ward room where mom and baby spent a couple days. The girls got to see the baby which thrilled them to no end before they went home to crash and I got to stay over at the hospital and got the best sleep I've had in months. After a couple days both mother and child came home which is pretty badassed in my opinion. If someone cut open my stomach and took out something that weighed 7 and a half pounds, I'd be in bed for quite some time. Just point me at the tv and don't count on me for anything. Guess it's a good thing it wasn't me then.

Barack Obama: Beacon Of Hope Or Creation Of Hype

It was kind of an exciting day around town as Barack Obama made a visit to Canada's capital. It was a highly anticipated visit since the last guy didn't realize Canada was a foreign country and the guy before that was always more into visiting places where the ladies weren't wearing parkas. Yeah, they had some issues.

Anyways, as we all know, everywhere Obama goes, hope is sure to follow. Yesterday, we got some snow. Not as much as had been forecast but a bit nonetheless. Air Force One lands and there's no more snow. A handful of flake may have had the audacity to fall during the day but I believe the secret service quickly dealt with them. Around 6 this evening, shortly after President Obama has left our air space, the snow kicked back up for 15 minutes or so. Now I'd heard all the hoopla about how he pisses sunshine and poops rainbows but I'd always been skeptical. After today I think there may be some truth to it.

The other big thing that happened today hit a little bit closer to home for us. The doctor's office called to let us know our c-section date had been moved up. With the HG and the PICC line, the plan was to book the section for the earliest possible date which was March 5. There were no openings on that day so we were booked for the 9th and put at the top of the waiting list in case someone delivered early. Sure enough someone did and a spot opened up for us. That takes the countdown from 18 days to exactly 2 weeks. The baby getting paroled early like that really put us all in an upbeat frame of mind. There's just something about getting inside that 2 week mark. Whoever the lady was that delivered early though does solidify a theory of mine though.

Barack Obama can induce labour. You honestly think it's a coincidence that he shows up in town and this woman gives birth? Not a chance. If you want further supporting evidence then just look at the pattern of births in the US over the past year. There are significant spikes the week following each of Obama's most public addresses. (Ok, I made those statistics up but you didn't actually expect me to do research did you?) Here's how it works. His words and mere presence radiates so much hope that the unborn child is drawn to it like a moth to a flame. They emerge into the world in search of the source of that overpowering aura of hopeitude (every new word has to start somewhere). That's why I think TV stations should have a warning appear on screen before the State of the Union and any other big speeches. "The following is not recommended for women who may be pregnant. If you must watch please do not stare directly at the President or listen to more than 2 consecutive minutes of his speech at any given time. If you experience contractions either proceed quickly to the nearest hospital to give birth or immediately change the channel to footage of Dick Cheney to stop the labour." I'll have to remember to send the major networks an email tomorrow. I only hope they listen.

T-Minus 18 Days And Counting

So we're under 3 weeks to go now. I know someone who can count it down to the exact second but I think it means more to her. If I was carrying around a weight on my stomach that punched, pushed, and kicked me from the inside at all hours of the day and night I'd probably have the sort of countdown going on that would make mission control look like a kid with an advent calender. Actually, an advent calender might not be a bad idea. Sort of puts a bit of pressure on the kid but I do enjoy daily chocolates.

I had to step away for a few minutes, not that you could tell I'm sure. They were just showing the best part of the Godfather on AMC so I had to watch. Man, I wish I had arch enemies and the means to have them all wiped out while I'm at a baptism, thus solidifying my power. I probably should have prefaced that by saying "spoiler alert" but if you haven't seen the Godfather by now then it's your own damn fault.

Anyways, baby preparations have been going ahead at full speed around here. Clothes is being pulled out washed and sorted. The crib has been set up in the nursery. We've got our tiny diapers. Those things are awesome by the way. They can squeeze like a thousand of them into the same size package that holds 36 of the bigger ones. Of course, babies poop about a thousand times more often than toddlers so it evens itself out. All I'm saying is we're not going to be stuck like we were with the last youngster. On the way home from the hospital we had to stop and buy diapers, formula, bottles, and just about anything else someone with any sense would have purchased ages before. At least we weren't going through the checkout with everything while she was in labour. Cashiers get kind of weirded out when you do that.

We weren't buying baby things, it was some sort of gummy candy and chocolate i think, but we did go shopping when my wife was in labour with the first one. It was great. I'm paying while she's leaning over breathing her way through a contraction. The eleventeen year old cashier looked a little concerned until I said "oh, she's just in labour." Her expression went from concerned to one of "do I need to boil some water and get towels?" I was tempted to tell her as we left that they needed a clean up in aisle three but that probably would have been a bit much. It gave us a chuckle though. We were still laughing when we went through the McDonald's drive thru on the way to the hospital (not my idea but I wasn't against it either). Just another instance where life failed to imitate the movies. I was expecting some high speed stunt driving as we rushed to the hospital in a panic. All that time watching the Italian Job down the drain but at least the burgers were good.

Scientists Discover Giant Snake

So I was reading this article that scientists have discovered the remains of some prehistoric "monster snake" in Colombia. They say it would have been about 42 feet long and weighed 2500 lbs. As someone who's never really been a big fan of snakes I must say that's friggin' frightening. The idea of a snake who, at it's thickest point, would come up to a person's hips is a little more than I'd like to think about. A couple thoughts did occur to me though.

First, why did it take them this long to find it? It's the size of a bus. I can understand having a tough time finding the remains of tiny dinosaurs but not giant bus sized things. Unless these remains were hidden underneath the remains of a two bus sized snake then there shouldn't be any excuses. Of course, if that were the case then we wouldn't even be talking about the puny bus snake; we'd be haunted by images of the humongous double decker reticulated bus snake. Personally, I think they just have a big repository full of fossils and some guys working on them like Legos. "Here, take this box of stuff we found and see if you can put together something that'll really freak people out."

"Ok, let's see what we've got here. We just need to put together some horns, wings, a tail, and some big teeth and there we have it. The prehistoric flying beaverbull. Greg, spin the wheel so we can tell people how many millions of years ago it was around."

Of course, if I'm wrong and they actually work to piece together the remains they find without any preconceived notion then this must have been like putting together a jigsaw puzzle only to realise it spells out "I'm going to kill you".

Anyways, the other thing that occurs to me is that I owe Jennifer Lopez and Ice Cube an apology for my criticism of that movie Anaconda that they did. (Samuel L. Jackson however is owed no apology because Snakes On A Plane was just stupid.) I always thought it was silly and unrealistic how big they made the snake in that movie. Turns out I was wrong. As this new discovery proves, it would have been possible for these two actor/recording artists to be attacked by a giant snake (apparently this "monster snake" was actually larger than the one in that movie). All that would be required is some sort of time machine. Of course then we get into the issue of the whole J-Lo Ice Cube space time continuum but I'll leave that to more qualified professionals like Stephen Hawking and Dr. Dre.

I guess the whole point of the story is that 50+ million years ago there were some pretty freakin' insane things roaming this planet. Thanks science, I won't have any trouble getting to sleep now.

Hard To Find World Records

So it turns out it's harder than you would think to find information about how far or fast a poop can travel. I would have thought both would be valid categories for Guinness but apparently not. Apparently, the book compiled to settle bar bets has standards. I'm sure somewhere there's some drunk college kids with access to a radar gun and tape measure who could give me an answer though.

Anyways, there is a reason why I was curious about those crappy records (puns are fun). It goes further than just general safety knowledge. How far should I stay away from a bare ass I don't trust in order to be safe and how quickly do I need to get there? As a rule, I just try to maintain a minimum 6 foot buffer zone. That's why I bring a stick that length with me when I go in the change room at the gym. I'm off topic though. My sullying of search engines stemmed from a diaper changing mishap yesterday.

Apparently, while I was at work, one of the few times I was happy to be there, our youngest was complaining of a dirty diaper. Upon further inspection, my wife found what appeared to be a tiny poop. She set up the little one for a change, not an easy task at 8 months pregnant. Once the old diaper was removed she sprung into action. What looked like a tiny poop was just the tip of the iceberg. The rest of which shot out like a big dirty bullet, bouncing off our little girl's calf. Startling by anyone's standards. Luckily, it landed neatly in the diaper and did no further damage.

I guess it just goes to show that as parents we all think our kids are the best at things. Upon hearing the story, my first reaction was I bet that's some kind of record; I should really look into that. Followed closely by my second thought; I'd better start bringing my gym stick to diaper changes. You can never tell if those things are loaded or not.

Time Flies When You're Having Fun

So it's been a while since I posted anything. I wish I could say I've been using my time productively or that it was important stuff that's kept me busy but I'd be lying. The usual duties or parenting, working, and baby arrival preparation has kept us occupied but mostly it's been laziness, procrastination, and a serious addiction to BaseballBoss that's been working against me. Honestly, a free online game that involves collecting virtual baseball cards and pitting the stars of differing eras against each other in simulated games? They might as well have gotten me hooked on crack

Anyways, a rather noteworthy point was brought to light last week. As of this week, we can now register our oldest for four year old kindergarten. WTF? Four years ago we had no kids at all and now we're on the verge of having a child in school? Not to mention the fact we'll have three kids by the time she starts school. Not even half a decade passes and I go from having minimal responsibilities in my late twenties to having three kids and being in my early thirties. Stupid less than 100% effective birth control.

She goes to nursery school one day a week now but that just doesn't seem as big as kindergarten. Having to get up, get dressed, eat and get to school on time every day? I'm not sure I can handle that. Seriously, I'm generally late for work at least once a week and now I'm going to be responsible for getting her to school on time? I highly doubt I'm the most qualified person for the job on this one. Luckily, her mom is used to working in schools so she'll be taking point on this particular mission. Once her mat leave is up and she goes back to work though, who knows what's going to happen. It's lucky that we only live about a block and a half from the school she'll be going to because I expect to have to sprint there with three kids in tow at least a couple times a week when I take over. Guess I'll have to start hitting the treadmill to make sure I'm in shape when that time comes. Of course, the bigger issue about starting school is that she firmly believes she's going to be driving herself to school on the first day in an electric pink Barbie car. I wonder if Avis or Hertz rents those things.

Some Concerns Have Been Raised

When the baby comes we're going to have to be careful. Well I guess that goes without saying. Caring for an infant and reckless abandon don't usually go hand in hand. Although combining the two could result in some pretty awesome youtube videos. Not to mention visits from child services so there's a bit of a trade off there.

Getting back on track though, we're going to have to be careful because of her big sisters. I had no idea just how many baby dolls we had in this house until recently. Seems like every time I turn around they're pushing one in a stroller, putting one to bed, or feeding one a bottle. Would be nice if it was a toy bottle they were using but it's still kind of sweet. The older one has really taken the whole baby excitement thing to heart. She's constantly talking about how she's going to hold the baby and all the fun things they'll do together. It's to the point that the other day she tried to pick up her little sister. One arm under the legs, the other behind the back and she was trying to stand up. She's kind of freaky strong too because once I helped her get to her feet she was almost able to hold up her 26 lb sister without any help. Eventually physics slapped her in the face and down they went, crumbling into a super cute giggling heap. It goes without saying that we'll have to keep a close eye on her once the baby gets here (March 9 in case you're wondering).

On top of the physical concerns, there's the armchair parenting that goes on. For instance, she's taken it upon herself to make sure we're aware when we say a bad word. Not only that, but if, as an example, you happen to be driving somewhere and use some harsh language to point out the deficiencies of other motorists (more of a responsibility than a right in my opinion) then she's more than willing to let people know about it later. "Daddy said a bad word on the way here." At least she doesn't repeat the word.

That's not the only on board parenting she's been doing lately. The other day one of her parents, not saying who so as not to embarrass her, was driving when the song Baby Got Back came on the radio. As we all know, it's been scientifically proven that it is impossible to not sing along to that song. I've always thought they should play it full blast in war zone or riot situations. Before you know it everyone would just be singing along an shaking their asses. Order restored. Anyways, an unidentified parent was singing along in the driver seat when a voice came from the back. "Do you think this is a good song for kids?" Holy crap, friggin' kid is her own V-chip.

All things considered, she seems to have her unborn sister's best interest at heart which is nice. We just need to help her hold onto the baby and she'll keep the baby free from obscenities and inappropriate lyrics. Her little sister, on the other hand, has gotten into the habit of tossing her baby dolls into the air which she thinks is hilarious.

"Yeah, I think we're going to hold off on you carrying the baby. How about some Sir Mix-A-Lot to distract and entertain you?"

A Good Night's Sleep

Ok, here's a little math problem for you. Both my kids and the dog add up to a total of 80 lbs tops. I weigh over twice that much so how did I end up with a small section of the king size bed and a corner of the blanket last night? The only answer I can come up with is that kids expand when sleeping. It's like those foam dinosaurs you put in water and they grow to like eight times their size.

Here's what happened. The kids went to sleep fairly easily, always a nice treat, and slept pretty well. Following the normal order of things my wife, who is really looking forward to not being pregnant, was next in line for dreamland. I stayed up to watch the Daily Show, new episodes yay, and try out Xbox Live for the first time. Yeah, I just love getting my ass kicked at a video game by an eleven year old. It's even more fun with the added feature of a headset so you can hear them too. "Good job junior. You have fun with the whole first person shooter thing. I'm going to go watch R rated movies and maybe purchase some alcohol or tobacco products."

Anyways, after a while the older one starting calling out from her room. She wanted a drink but after that she started complaining about being afraid of the dark. I pointed out that she had nightlight and that the bathroom light was on so she could go potty at night if she needed. "I'm scared of the dark in my closet. Can I sleep in your room?" Well played. I was left with only one option. We piled into the bed which already had my wife, the baby "in her tummy", the dog, and the little sister in it. Add the two of us and it becomes a sleepy struggle for space.

Three bedrooms to choose from but we're all within arms reach. I guess I can't complain too much though. I only had one kid shoving against me for space. My wife had a kid switching between cuddling and pushing her away while she was also getting kicked in the stomach from the inside. Compared to that my little blanket corner seems like a friggin' dream come true.

Happy New Year

New Year's Eve isn't exactly a parent friendly celebration. Toddlers tend to slow you down when it comes to drunken partying late into the night. A stinky diaper will clear some space for you in tight quarters so that's a plus. It's not a big concern of mine though because I've never been big on New Year's. I don't drink, I'm not a big fan of crowds or parties, and I don't like the idea of New Year's resolutions. How about this for a tradition, we take the time to look at our own perceived personal deficiencies and vow to do things differently this year. Basically, it's pick one of the following: I'm going to a) eat better b) exercise more c) lose weight or d) quit smoking. Then try to make it out of January without breaking your pledge. Good times.

Anyways, our evening was pretty tame but good. We started out by ordering Chinese food for supper, as we do every New Year's Eve. Tried a couple things we hadn't had before, no idea what it was, and discovered why we hadn't tried them before. Always fun to give someone six dollars and ask tell them to go cook something to try and make you puke. It's the chance you take when trying new things I guess. (Nobody was close to vomiting; we just didn't care for whatever it was.)

After supper we played a bit and then it was bedtime. I took the older one and my wife took the little one. She got hers to sleep fairly easily and I fell asleep in the bed with mine. Just the little nap I needed to help get me to midnight. Certainly needed some help because it was a piss poor night for TV watching. For some reason the TV networks assumed people wouldn't be watching TV last night. Go figure. We ended up watching the Forgetting Sarah Marshall movie which was hilarious. A little more male frontal nudity than I expect to see in a movie but it certainly helped move along the story and added to the laughs. Kids kept waking up though so it took about an hour longer than it should have to watch. Not complaining because that just got us that much closer to twelve and the dropping of the ball. That's the two traditions we have is ordering Chinese food and watching them drop that ball in Times Square.

I've got to say though that watching Dick Clark's Rocking Eve has just gotten sad. I'm not just talking about the fact it gives even more media exposure to Ryan Seacrest. Since his stroke it just makes me sad to listen to Dick Clark ring in the new year. On one hand it's nice that he's still able to get out there since it's his thing but I still find it hard to watch. It's not as hard as watching Seacrest but it's up there.

Overall, I'd say it was about as good an evening as it could have been. We both stayed up until midnight, the kids pretty much slept through, and there wasn't any vomiting. With two young kids and an HGing wife the upchucking was the big question mark so it was a happy new year indeed.