Archives for the month of: July, 2013

Given the deterioration of the human race (due to television, I presume), the question above seems very plausible.  We watch way too much Kim and Kanye and too little Bill Nye, the Science Guy.

I guess this isn’t so much about Worm being smarter than a piece of iron than it is about the problem solving skills of his old man.  Occasionally, I’ve got to check to make sure my neurotransmitters are still firing (as my own dad used to say).  And I’m happy to report that there is still some brain activity!

Humans are problem solvers by nature.  It’s what got us to invent things like the SnuggieTM (the robe worn backwards), the Instant Arm Lift (clear duct tape for securing flabby arms in place), and The Backup (a gun rack that attaches to your mattress to shoot intruders quickly without you getting out of bed).  See what watching too much television nets you?

Our problem is that Worm is two years old.  He’s starting to put his eyes (and subsequently, hands) on everything.  And our two-year old is discovering problems that I just don’t see.  For example, when it’s hot as Hades inside the house, I open the front and back doors to let air circulate through.  Worm, thinking there could be a possible security breach, takes it upon himself to close all the doors and secure the perimeter.  We’re safe from the outside world…but left to bake our brains as the inside temps climb.  So, I turn on the ceiling fan to, you know, blow some air around the living room and maybe cool off a bit.  Worm is concerned that the fan may overheat on such a hot day and gleefully turns it off.  (Does Worm work for the city gas and electric company?)

In these situations, I could either chase him around until I overheat and faint, or I could lay on the couch and try to stay cool by nary lifting a finger.  I chose the latter.  And the latter worked for quite some time until one day it got to 93 degrees inside (yes, inside) the house and my brain cooked up an idea.  Literally.

Worm = 28lbs.  Dumbbells = 35lb.  The strength to weight ratio of a toddler is less than that of an adult.  I can lift my own bodyweight, but I’m pretty certain that Worm can’t yet lift his.  Hmm.  What if I blocked the doors open with the dumbbells?  Fresh breezes, cool air, and I won’t have to stick my head in the freezer to stay alive.  I gave it a shot and Worm proved my theory correct.

door_stop

Pull Up Your Pants Worm! Crack Kills!

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I Admire Your Creativity Here, Worm…

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Worm, I Think Some of “The Crazies” Live in Our House…

This was so funny to me.  Even as I was dripping in sweat and dizzy from heat exhaustion, I managed to snap a few pics.  Worm’s face in the third pic is priceless.

Gavin – 25; Honeydaddy – 16 (I’m hot, baby!  But not as hot as I was earlier.  Wormie, one day you’ll be able to throw that dumbbell at my head, but until then, ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!)

I asked the good man (or woman) above to help me get through the rest of my day and these are the words he blessed my ear with.

“Son, drink the juice of the noble cane and all under 3 feet tall shall be forgotten.  And if not forgotten, they will blur into the background…”

So I did.

Remember, drink two and double your pleasure, double your fun!

Remember, drink two and double your pleasure, double your fun!

Ingredients:

  • 2 oz. cachaça, room temperature.  (I like the Ypioca brand for it’s nice mellow taste.)
  • 1 tbsp. brown sugar, packed
  • 1/4 lime, wedged
  • 4 cherries, pitted
  • ice

Preparation:

Put lime and pitted cherries into a glass.  Using a pestle, take your parenting frustrations out mainly on the cherries and a tad on lime wedges.  Beat them to a bloody pulp, yell at them, and curse their ancestors.

Now add the brown sugar and caipirinha.  Mix with a stirring rod for 15-30 seconds.  Add ice and serve cold.  (Don’t be a bonehead.  This is a sweet treat for adults, not kids.)

It's Working!  Praise Heaven!

It’s Working! Praise Heaven! (I Think Worm is Around Here Somewhere…”

And that’s reason to celebrate!  Smush passed a serious marker.  And so did I.  I made it through 6 months of dual descendant daddy duty.  Hooray for me!  (Look, I’m only a couple of days late with this blog post.  Cut me some slack.  I’m busy!)

I wish I could say that I’ve been counting all the baby skills and checking the boxes to make sure Smushter is keeping up pace with those in her age range.  But, I’m not.  I couldn’t even say what the 6 month milestone targets are right now.  Checking boxes off of the developmental milestone list have given way to “Don’t jab the TV with the vacuum cleaner handle, Worm!” and “Worm, stop hitting the dogs with your baby stroller!”.  It’s much more difficult to sit around and stare at my baby girl hanging on the moment she does something cool.  Because the second my eyes are off of the Worm, he will negate everything and do something uncool.

I can, though, compare her and her brother’s important skillsets at around the 6 month age:

Holding a bottle – Worm did this around 4 months old.  By the time he was 6 months old, he was spinning bottles on his fingertips.  Smushie is just now being forced learning to hold a bottle with two hands and put it to her mouth, or eye, or nose, or in the general vicinity of her face.  ADVANTAGE – WORM

Sleeping – The two of them have been great sleepers since a couple of months old.  Worm used to make me rock him to sleep at night after feedings and was a bit difficult to burp.  I can look at Smush and she burps…and farts, and drools.  ADVANTAGE – SMUSH

Mobility – Worm crawled on Christmas day.  Which was a pretty cool gift from him to us.  It took him ~9 months.  Smush has decided that she wants to crawl by next week.  She spends all her waking moments doing one of two things:  staring at Worm and getting up on all fours.  Her efforts will pay off soon and she will shave off ~3 months from Worm’s time.  ADVANTAGE – SMUSH

Sitting – I don’t know why we obsessed with getting Worm to sit up in the Bumbo so early.  By the time he was 6 months old, he could easily sit up without any assistance or use of duct tape.  Smushie on the other hand, eats too many Twinkies and Bon Bons.  The girl’s too chubby to do much more than leave a dent in the carpet.  But that chub is so cuddly!  Speaking of cuddly…   ADVANTAGE – WORM

Cuddling – Worm has the name because of his insane wiggling ability.  As an infant, he couldn’t sit still for more than 15 minutes in my arms.  (I really don’t blame him.  My arms are pretty bony and have the plushness of plywood.)  Smushels is the definition of cuddly.  I could hold that baby forever and she’d just look me in the face and pee on my arm.  She doesn’t mind my pointy elbows.  (She’s got so much ‘insulation’, she probably can’t feel them.)  The only thing stopping me from using that girl as my pillow is that she claws everything within arms range.  I like my eyes.  ADVANTAGE – SMUSH

Although it’s not a contest, we tallied up all the skills and Smush is the winner (3-2) and the best baby in the house!  For coming in 1st place, she gets a lifetime supply of mommy’s milk!  And for coming in 2nd place, Worm gets a used toilet bowl brush along with the opportunity to try even harder to become the best baby in the house!  Hooray!

As a side note, it’s really quite interesting to reflect upon the differences between the two kids from zero to 6 months of age.  Worm did very few of the little baby things during this time, where as Smush has done quite a few:  coo, look into our eyes, smile, mimic tongue movements, grab her toes, grasp everything with a death grip, put stuff in her mouth, etc.

When I look at the beautiful young woman that she has become, I’m reminded that she will always be my little girl…and even though she’s getting married today…oops.  Hold on.  Wrong notes.

Ok, let me try again.  When I see her little face and it lights up my world, I am reminded that nothing engages, moves, and defines us as human more than giving and receiving love.

It sounded too good to be true.  Really?  I can get 6 additional Krispy Kreme doughnuts for $2 more?  Even the custard filled ones?  How do they make any money??

Using all the restraint I had in my body, I declined the dirty dozen and walked away from a deal of a lifetime with my measly six-pack under one arm and Worm under the other.  That was 3 days ago.  Yet, it wasn’t until yesterday that I was sure I made the right decision on those delectable doohickies.

Monday started off with normal levels of chaos as I prepared for a trip to the zoo.  Sure, Worm is two years old.  Sure, I wish I could velcro him to the floor while I get Smush ready to leave the house.  But even with Wormie on the loose, I was still able to get us out the front door by 9:20.

We got back and everyone took their noon nap.  Regular stuff.  When Mini Me and Micro Me woke up, they were ready for food.  I (being the great dad that I am) decided to give Worm dessert before lunch.  I cut up a chocolate sprinkle special from the box and gave it to him.  It was a bad move.

The tasty treat lit up his veins and for the rest of the day my once mild-mannered two-year old (oxymoron?) became Bonkers Boy!  All afternoon and well into evening, there was nonstop talking, running, throwing, panting, jumping, falling, screaming and unlistening.  I seriously thought about pulling out the belt on him…to hogtie his little hands and feet together.  I was blown away by what I saw for the next 6 hours.

I heard the words ‘Honeydaddy’ about 500 times…in the first hour.  I almost ripped my ears off trying to make it stop.  If we were in a cemetery, his repetitive ramblings would have turned the dead.  The dude opened and closed the same bedroom door about twenty times in the time it took me to take a half pee.  (I couldn’t focus on what I was doing and cut it off mid-stream.)  Stuff was being hurled across the house.  Legos, blocks, balls, measuring cups, anything he could grab.  I found myself shielding Smushie from him forcefully flinging furry figurines (or stuffed animals).  The worst was that Worm wouldn’t listen to anything I said.  (Is this foreshadowing of what having a teenager is like?)  My words and his brain cells were like two ships passing in the night.  As a note,  my little boy usually responds to 25% of what I say.  Yesterday, his possessed soul would only respond to the voices in his head.

I don’t feed the Worm much in the way of artificial anything.  We try to avoid low-fat, no fat, artificially sweetened, artificially colored, artificially flavored, zero calorie, or diet anything.  That sh!t is so chemically ridden and untested that we’d be better off smoking crack in a cesspit.  And I’m no expert on ADHD either, but after this, um, ‘experience’, I’d be hard pressed not to believe that there’s a connection.  I’ve always felt that it’s not just the sugar that made kids come unhinged, but the artificial crap that usually goes along with it…and now I’m leaning even more that way.

He’s back to his normally fast-paced self today, and half the speed freak he was 24 hours ago.  Maybe it was just a fluke.  Maybe a solar flare was radiating directly at Worm’s little white behind, I don’t know.  But I’ll tell you one thing.  I’m not going to repeat that purchase any time soon.  (You know how when you feel funny after eating something, you tend to avoid that food for a while?)  We’re going to avoid the KK (and their delicious custard filling) for an undetermined time.  I’m scarred.  Yesterday was a day that I’m happy is in the rearview mirror.  (I was counting the seconds for Steph to come home and save me from Bonkers Boy.  I think I threw him at her and ran away before she even walked in the front door.  Sorry, honeybaby!)

For now, we’re avoiding doughnuts and hopefully Bonkers Boy as well…I’m afraid.  I’m very afraid…

Worm, There's Something Different About You Today and I Can't Quite Put My Finger On It...

Worm, There’s Something Different About You Today and I Can’t Quite Put My Finger On It…

Our two hairy children have given us a lot of joy from the time we adopted them.  Ever since the bipedal ones arrived, the fun with our four-legged friends has been few and far between.  Steph and I hardly get one on one time with either dog (unless bath time counts.)  There’s only so many hours in the day, and in order to tickle everyone’s fancy, we must often plan group activities.

The few kid and dog friendly places we frequent are pet cemeteries, garbage dumps, random vet office lobbies, and Target.  (When I put fake mustaches and service dog jackets on the pooches, we walk right in through the front doors.  In case anyone asks, my knee jerk response is “My dogs relieve themselves during my panic attacks.”  When I say it quickly and make strong eye contact, the listener only hears the words ‘relieve’ and ‘panic attacks’.  Works every time!)

I’ve been scouring the earth for something a little more utopian (and clean), such as a fenced-in park where both kids and dogs can frolic, where pee transforms into grape juice,  where poop turns into pudding pops (by the way, look out for an awesome pudding pop recipe from us soon!), and every child scream or dog bark causes peanut butter cups to rain down from the clouds.  (Willy Wonka, are you reading this?!)  To this day (at least from my Google searches), such playground does not exist.  And it’s tiring to try to handle two dogs and two kids everywhere I go.  So sometimes I have to leave a couple of individuals behind.  And when I say couple, it’s the dogs.  Because if I left the kids at home alone, I’d be behind bars meeting my new cellmate/boyfriend for the next 10 years.

With the kids getting more active, the spots we visit don’t allow dogs.  So I’m caught expanding my children’s environment, and contracting my dogs’.  The pups get confined to the house and we go to the aquarium, or the like.  The dogs don’t get totally neglected, but they can end up with no more than 30 minutes of real interaction with us in a given day.  The thought has crossed my mind about selling the dogs to the gypsies, but only in anger.  Also, I’ve thought about putting Duncan and Frodo on eBay to see what each would fetch on the open market, but the numbers may look more red than black.  Besides, 99% of the time, I love our pups.  I just wish I had more time to spend with them.  (Though if they were on Facebook, I’d probably interact with them quite a bit more.  I kid.)  What makes me feel even worse is that my Duncan gives me the most pathetic, floppy-eared, droopy-lipped, sad puppy dog face.  At times, I can feel his eyes burning into the back of my head, trying to will me to come over and scratch his belly…or even just to look in his general direction.

Kids require a lot of time, patience, and love.  But so do my dogs.  I’m pretty sure that if we would have had Smush and Worm first, dogs wouldn’t have even been considered.  But, our life didn’t work out that way and before kids, Steph and I gave two rescued dogs a loving home and we planned to do so until death do us part.  And for all the unconditional love that our pets give us, we deserve to give back just as much.  They’ve never leave our side (unless it is to chase bunnies).  They’re loyal and deserving of love, even when they barf on the carpet over the excitement of seeing us after we’ve returned from a long trip.  Yet, I don’t feel like I give them the same in return (the love, not the barf.)  So, I’m going to make a point to do more with my furry loved ones.  Even though my posts have slowed down after Smush was born, they may have to take a back seat to spending time with my dogs (especially Duncan).  The little spare time that I have after the kids are in bed and mother and father are finally fed, may have to be spent trying to become dog’s best friend.  Woof!

Why Does Everything Smell Like Strawberry Frosting???

Duncan – “I’m in Heaven!  Everything Smells Like Strawberry Frosting!!!”              Frodo -“*SMACK* Do All Weimeraners Have A Screw Loose?”

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