Thank You Very Little

Without going into any great detail, I would like to give a special thanks to a doctor we recently used. The mistake you made cost us an extra trip to the hospital, which cost us an extra $2,000 (I got the bill today...hence, this rant). If my lawn guy had spilled gasoline all over my lawn and then charged me for the sod to replace the dead grass, I'd fire him. But, you're a doctor so you get special rules. I would probably feel much better about it if you had shown any concern or even offered up the weakest of apologies. Hell, I would have been happy if it would have crossed your mind to check back in on your mistake to see if it had any ramifications. Instead, you essentially gave us an "oh well, it happens" and went on your merry way. I'm sure you've done many great things in your career and are in most ways a great doctor...but, in this instance, you suck and I really just want to fill your undoubtedly luxury vehicle with Everett's dirty diapers.

Roles

It has been mentioned to me on more than one occasion that I talk about poop too often on this blog. Well, guess what....this is a blog about a 2 year-old and a 10 day-old...hot button political issues don't come up as often as you'd think during my chats with them. Having said that, here is another post about poop.

On several nights since Everett was born, he has had a hard time doing his business. One trick we have found to be successful is to have me bend my knees and let him lean back on them while King Everett perches upon his royal throne. I patiently wait there until we hear the fruitful sound of him filling his diaper...which, by the way, sounds like somebody sitting on a Whoopee cushion that has been partially submerged in water. Afterwards, he is the happiest little guy around while I am left to contemplate the depths of my new role. I knew I'd have to assume many responsibilities as a father - teacher, chauffeur, protector, wrestler, chef. However, if you had asked me to name all the things I'd do for the happiness of my children, I'd have gotten pretty far down the list before I came to "pose as a human toilet".

Ahhhhh, Life.

You know your life is not as it was a few short years ago when you see your near 3 year-old standing inside the fridge hanging onto the produce drawer and when you question her actions she replies...

"I'm trying to make a poop. Close the refrigerator!"

Chatting

Meggan: Please stop playing and eat your dinner.
Amelia: (begins singing some song about her food)
Meggan: We don't sing at the dinner table.
Amelia: I didn't eat and drink and sing. I just singing. That doesn't mean anything. Chill out.

-----------------------

Me: Do you want to say your prayers before going to sleep?
Amelia: Why?
Me: Because it is good to talk to God and thank him
Amelia: God is a robot.
Me: God is a robot? I think you're a little confused.
Amelia: I don't like robots.
Me: I'm sure not all robots are bad. And we should still thank God for everything.
Amelia: Why?
Me: Because God made the trees and the clouds and the oceans
Amelia: and the Ipad
Me: Uhh, sure...and the Ipad.

First Real Meeting

Open only one eye? Pirates do that! At least according to Amelia upon her first real meeting with Everett (She only saw him for about 5 minutes when he was first born).

7 Days

It is almost unimaginable to me that it has been a week since Everett was born. I'm sure the warp speed is partially due to the fact that time flies when working, heading back to the hospital, and trying to make sure your 2 year-old doesn't kill your newborn. I'm thinking the rest is due to two things - you lose track of your time when you are spending it with this new little creature you are so enamored with and you also lose track of time when said little creature keeps you up at night making you so tired that you have serious debates with yourself as to whether it is Tuesday or Wednesday...on Thursday. Regardless of why it has seemed so fast, I have enjoyed every second of it and cannot wait for the next week, next year, next decade...

Corrupt

Who has corrupted my 2 year-old daughter into thinking she is old enough to wear clear, plastic glasses for the sake of pretend style alone? I have an idea...and I think this person answers to the code name "Grandma"

Hidden Gem

The unsung victory of having a baby brother....getting opportunities to do fun things with the people who come to visit him...like Grandpa

Undeceptable

Amelia teaches me new words on a daily basis. Just tonight, I learned the word "Undeceptable"...

Me: Here we go. Let's brush our teeth.
Amelia: Nooo. I don't like that toothpaste!
Me: Well, your other toothpaste is for babies. This is for big girls who are 3.
Amelia: I not 3 yet.
Me: No, but you're almost 3. Now open up.
Amelia: That is undeceptable!

I can only assume it means the same thing as unacceptable...which I hate to tell her...is a totally unacceptable way to speak to her father.

Delay

John Mayer sings a lyric about his brother that says "Thinking bout my brother Ben, I miss him every day, He looks just like his brother John, But on an 18 month delay."

Well, after comparing baby photos last night (Amelia on left, Everett on right), I'm pretty sure Amelia can talk about her brother Everett, who looks just like her ...on a 35 month delay...



Let's just hope Meggan doesn't put him in pig tails when he gets older.

Pics

Posts

I apologize for the lack of posts lately. Apparently, having a baby puts a real time crunch on a guy. Additionally, having said baby refuse to potty in any way, forcing you to stay in the hospital an extra day, REAAALLLY makes finding time hard. Lastly, apparently when a doctor screws up an epidural and it forces you to go back to the hospital to get it corrected, it REALLLLY REALLLLLY eats into blogging time. So, in this catch-22 where I have a ton of new material and no time to post it, I just ask you to be patient. Soon, we'll have pictures, Amelia and Everett stories, Sophie and Everett conversations, and more.

Thanks, Jenn

A very talented and very thoughtful friend of ours offered up some sage advice on her blog to Amelia as she readies for her role as a big sister. You should go check it out.

Very Lucky

Mr. Everett decided to join us just before noon today. I could go on and on about the experience, but frankly, I'm just too tired to do so. Thus, I leave you with a picture of Amelia meeting her baby brother and a video of her doing her best to sing him a lullaby so he could sleep.

Everett Eve

With a little luck...and by luck I mean "not too many women go into active labor overnight"...we are scheduled to meet Everett tomorrow. I am equal parts excited and about to crap my pants apprehensive. I just pray that everything goes well tomorrow for mom and baby. I'll update the blog as appropriate. Wish us luck!

The Bad with the Good

This particular post isn't directed at any individual, but to an idea in and of itself. Since I have children, and particularly since I blog about said child(ren), I find it an incredible double standard for people to freely express their dislike and disinterest with parents who always talk about their children. I always see things such as "we get it, you have kids, you love your kids, that doesn't mean we have to". Well, here's the thing about that...you don't have to love my kids, but you do have to accept the fact that they are the most important thing in my life and thus will likely be the thing I talk about the most. Here's a secret for all the non-child having people I know...we don't really care about that cute thing your coworkers did, how your workout went, or that your cat jumped into the Christmas tree. But, we listen, or we pretend to listen while still thinking about a funny story about our kids, because we care about you and as such, we want to enjoy seeing you light up when you share the things that matter most to you. All we ask is that you understand we can't continue to talk about the same things forever...as our lives change, our conversations must change with them.

Oil Spill

No, the picture below is not an indication that we decided to reenact the final scene from Scarface. Actually, that is a huge pile of flour on our kitchen floor. The need to clean that off the floor would have been a bad enough start to the day. However, a much worse start is what actually occurred when Meggan accidentally knocked our griddle, including a giant cup of freshly cooked bacon grease off the island. The flour was just a failed prayer of getting the grease off the hardwoods. The bad news is our floor is slick and our house may forever smell like bacon. The good news is...Sophie thinks the floors are delicious.

33

Well, I have now officially entered my final year of my early 30s (and with Everett being born so close in date, probably the last time anyone will acknowledge my birthday). While I can't say I'm depressed by that, I certainly can't say I'm enthused about it either. I'm not old...yet...but, I'm also not young. That said, ESPN and Nickelodeon were also both born in 1979 and they don't seem to be showing any signs of slowing down. So, I have that going for me.

Woof Woof Woof Woof Woof Woof

Sometimes you look over and realize your baby is no longer a baby at all. In fact, she's a crazy little kid with a funny sense of humor.

Amelia and Meggan: Happy Birthday to you...Happy Birthday to you...Happy Birthday dear Daddy...Happy Birthday to you.
Me: Aww, thank you. That was some beautiful singing. Sophie, what, don't you love me enough to sing with them??
Amelia: Woof Woof Woof Woof Woof Woof....Woof Woof Woof Woof Woof Woof...Woof Woof Woof Woof Woof Woof Woof ....Woof Woof Woof Woof Woof Woof.

Countdown

We officially received word today that they have started the turkey timer on Everett. If he doesn't come on his own in the next week, Meggan will go in and be induced. With that in mind, I've been thinking about him constantly today.

I am so excited to have a son to pair up with my daughter.
Yet, I am so afraid for Meggan and I to make the switch from zone coverage where it is 2 vs. 1 to man-to-man coverage where it is 2 vs. 2.

I am so excited to show my children I love them differently, but equally.
Yet, I am so afraid they will use this love to equally wrap me around their little fingers.

I am so excited to see how Everett and Amelia grow to interact with each other.
Yet, I am so afraid Amelia will try to drag him around, color on his face, and stuff him under the couch like she does her baby dolls.

I am so excited to experience all the differences of raising a little boy.
Yet, I am so afraid I will forget the risks while changing his diaper and he'll pee on my forehead.

I am so excited to have a son I can groom to be the next Tim Tebow.
Yet, I am so afraid he'd rather be at ballet.

I am so excited to have a snitch to tell me if Amelia's does questionable things.
Yet, I am so afraid I'll find out things no father ever wants to know.

I am so excited to no longer be the only male in the house.
Yet, I am so afraid Everett will be one of those boys who plays with frogs.

I am so excited that I have just doubled my chances of having a child that goes to Harvard.
Yet, I am so afraid that I have just doubled my chances of having a child that goes to jail.

I am so excited to teach Everett everything I know about women.
Yet, I am so afraid I won't know what to do after that 4 minute conversation.

I am so excited to teach Everett everything I know about cars.
Yet, I am so afraid he'll realize I know less about cars than I do about women.

I am so excited to see the relationship between Meggan and Everett.
Yet, I am so afraid he'll tell me to go to work so Mommy can stay home like Amelia does.

I am so excited to teach him how to tie a tie.
Yet, I am so afraid I'll embarrass him at Boy Scouts when I can't tie a knot.

I am so excited to show him that being a man is about a lot more than being "manly".
Yet, I am so afraid that not being manly makes me very uncool to a 12 year-old.

I am so excited to teach him that genuineness and the law of large numbers will get him more girls than any carefully planned pick-up line.
Yet, I am so afraid there is some other dad out there teaching his son how to pick up Amelia one day.

I am so excited to teach him the right path in life - to become a Florida Gator.
Yet, I am so afraid he'll choose the dark side, such as Florida State, just to be different.

I am so excited to teach him to be a leader.
Yet, I am so afraid he'll be the kid other parents hate because he talked their kid into stealing something.

I am so excited to teach him to stand up to bullies.
Yet, I am so afraid he'll crack Amelia in her coconut one day.

I am so excited to teach him to shoot a jump shot.
Yet, I am so afraid I won't be able to handle the day he finally beats me in one on one.

I am ao excited to teach him to shoot a jump shot.
Yet, I am so afraid I'll have the 18 year-old who never got good enough to beat his 50 year-old dad at one on one.

I am so excited to teach him to hold doors and pull out chairs.
Yet, I am so afraid those ideals will be dead by the time he is old enough to employ them.

I am so excited to have the son every man wants.
Yet, I am so afraid I'll fall short of being the father that every boy deserves.

Now That Is A Nightmare

We had our second night of 3a.m. screaming. Luckily this time there were no moths in the room. As a matter of fact, Amelia was actually just having a nightmare. On the surface I would say this is better than being tortured by a moth. However, I'm not sure Amelia would agree considering the way she was screaming. Also, while I can't say for certain what she was dreaming about, all she kept screaming was "Mommy and Daddy won't buy me this at Target". So, I'm assuming that dream is going to cost me money the next time we are in the store.


On a side note, it is really creepy when your daughter opens her eyes and stares at you as if she is awake while she is still very much asleep. I just about had my own nightmares after having Little Miss Poltergeist stare through me last night.

Seeing is Believing

Here is a bit of advice Meggan and I learned the hard way...if your child begins yelling "Help...Help Me...Help" in the middle of the night, don't assume they are just having a bad dream. Apparently, there is a chance that a moth is flying all around their bed tormenting them as they cower in paralyzing fear.

On a related note, here is a bit of advice Meggan and I learned the hard way...if your moth* begins flying around a two year-olds room causing her to wake her father with pleas for help, said father will track down your moth and beat it over and over and over again with a shoe. When he is done with the beating, he will accidentally glance at the clock and remember your moth has him out of bed in the middle of the night, and beat it again for good measure.

*Disclaimer - ALL moths were fatally harmed during the creation of this blog post.

Thankful

A friend of mine was thoughtful enough to make Everett a baby blanket (she made Amelia hers as well). How can you not feel blessed when you are lucky enough to have people like that in your life?

Ring Around the Sophie

Amelia has finally reached the point where when she realizes her attempts to get us to play with her aren't getting her anywhere, she just uses Sophie (a plan Sophie is not at all fond of). Here they are going through a rousing rendition of Ring Around the Rosie...

Maybe She Does Know

Since I made a post sharing that Amelia said Jesus's mother doesn't have any eyes, I've heard from a few people that they indeed do not think Amelia has lost her mind and she actually knew exactly what she was talking about. Truth be told, shortly after I made the post Meggan and I realized what she was talking about as well. In fact, if you look back to a Naybe post from a month or so ago, you will clearly see that Jesus's mother...and father...and even Jesus himself...are severely lacking in the sight department.

Hide and Peek

Amelia really, really, really loves to play Hide and Seek. However, she really has no idea how to play so it ends up like an elaborate game of peek-a-boo....

Dinner Chat

Have you ever had one of those times where your kid says something and you start thinking they are so smart and have a really good understanding of things you never even knew they had heard of ...and then they say something that makes you realize they are basically just talking crazy and it just happened to coincidentally sound smart for a minute...

Meggan: Are you okay, baby?
Amelia: Yeah, I'm just thinking.
Meggan: What are you thinking about?
Amelia: Jesus
Meggan: Oh really? What are you thinking about Jesus?
Amelia: He was a baby out in the grass.
Me: Umm, yeah. He was a baby born out in a manger.
Meggan: What else?
Amelia: His mommy doesn't have any eyes. She just has round things.

Then later they say something that lets you know they may not understand everything, but they certainly do understand most things...

Meggan: Do you understand why mommy put you in timeout?
Amelia: Because I didn't keep my feet off the table.
Meggan: And what do you say?
Amelia: Sorrrrry
Meggan: Okay, please keep your feet off the table.
Amelia: You didn't want to put me in timeout?
Meggan: No, I didn't. Mommy hates putting you in timeout, but sometimes it's the only way to get your attention and get you to do what I want.
Amelia: (looks down and lets out a big sigh) Yeah, I guess you're right.

When Did Amelia Turn 8?

Over the last few weeks, Amelia has really started communicating on a much higher level. A part of me loves hearing her express herself (Daddy, you don't sing lullaby very good. I want mommy to snuggle me). A part of me hates being talked to as if she is 33 and I am 3 (she literally combats everything I offer up with a reason we can't do it or it won't work). A part of me is annoyed by her copycat ways(her new trick of repeating everything you say). And a part of me is concerned that she worries about everything (I know that last one is a bit ironic, but I can't count how many times she says "Be careful, Daddy" or "we need to slow down" when we are in the car). Having said all of that, I have to admit that no matter what she says or how I feel about it, it is amazing to see her grow into her own little person.

Here is a small excerpt of her apparently deciding to order for herself on our trip to the drive through the other night:

Drive Through Speaker: Order when you're ready.

Me (to Meggan): Do you know what you want?

Amelia (loudly from the back seat): I'm probably going to have a Happy Meal please.

Meggan: Okay, we'll tell them

Amelia (loudly again to the speaker): I'll have a Happy Meal

Amelia (louder): Can I have a Happy Meal please?

Amelia (louder): He's not answering me

Amelia (loudly one last time): I'll have a Happy Meal

Amelia (flustered): He's not answering


After Meggan and I stopped cracking up, we were able to successfully complete our transaction.

You Aren't Born Humble

You know that post I wrote the other day about Amelia's bathroom habits? Well, I caught a little flack for it because apparently "Amelia will be really embarrassed later in life when she reads those posts". Ummm, yeaahhh, I'm her dad. I live to embarrass her in silly ways. I consider it a vital part of my role as being a good father...a role I hope to fully continue well into her adult years. The only thing I plan on taking more seriously is making sure she is bursting with so much self-esteem that she can sit back and enjoy laughing at herself instead of worrying about what others may think.

Artist?

So, I know every parent thinks their kids are basically awesome. Well, I'm no different. Amelia does things on a daily basis that make me think she is clearly the coolest kid to ever walk the planet. I think this is a very healthy mentality for a parent. The only problem is it occasionally leads to a slightly skewed perception of reality. That said, I was pretty blown away by what I am about to post. If you aren't ...keep it to yourself and let me live my dream. In other words, thank you for not peeing in my puddle.

Amelia was coloring with markers today while watching Blue's Clues. They drew Blue (a dog) on the screen and then she told us she drew a dog. She brought us the paper in the picture below. At first, it only had the blue dog's head on it. Meggan and I thought she was BSing us and had somehow grabbed some old paper that someone else had drawn on. That said, we couldn't figure out how because Meggan had just brought the paper home. So, I gave her a black marker and told her to draw another doggy head. She then drew the black dog. I probably can't sell them to any museums just yet, but for a 2 year-old , I think they are pretty damn good.