This week is potty training week for Evie. Its the switch to panties that she loves. Evie digs the panties because they’re for ‘big girls.’ The fascinating part is that she hasn’t had an accident this morning. Mostly because we’ve stuck her on the toilet every 34 seconds to make sure she doesn’t have an accident. I’m not keeping score, but its great to save about $15.00 a week in diapers.
Thankful Thursday: Lotsa Family
This week has been a tough family week for various reasons, I’m not going to blog all of the details other than to say that I love my family. Extended, immediate, far, near or otherwise. I love you all a ton. Last night I slept half the night in Evie’s new twin bed (with her snuggled up next to me) so that she could sleep and I could sleep. I love her lots and am thankful for her, even if at two in the morning she was screaming her head off because she didn’t want to sleep in the new bed that cost us money that she can’t comprehend. Hopefully today will have a good daytime nap she likes on the bed, and tonight we’ll have her sleep happily in it.
Snow in the Eyes of A Two Year Old
Evie’s description of snow: It’ milk!
Paco
My sister is pregnant, which is a highly exciting part of life for uncles, aunts and cousins-to-be. Because she’s so early in her pregnancy they don’t know what gender the baby will be and so my sister and brother-in-law have taken to calling the baby ‘Paco’ while they wait on the gender and then can call the baby several names that they have longer term attachment to [by several I mean they have names picked out, but it depends on the gender. Get it?].
Yesterday morning Evie walked up to Jessica, lifted
up her shirt, pointed to her tummy and said, “I have a Paco, too!”
Lord, I pray Evie does not have a Paco, too. Not just yet, at least.
Sleeping in the Bed She Didn’t Make
Evie is getting big. And by big I mean growing up, not fat. You have to be careful how you talk about women because they can get sensitive about that kind of stuff. Anyway, Evie is growing up and she’s outgrowing the crib/child’s bed that she’s been in since she was a newborn. She’s two for goodness sake and I’d hate for her to go to college and tell other students, “My parents saved money by not buying me a new bed.” So tonight Jessica and I went to the mattress store and ordered her a mattress.
She will be sleeping in a bed she won’t know how to make for a while, but its time she gets a bed that will last her for a while and one she can grow into. I wanted to buy her an iBed, but Apple doesn’t make one. I could buy her a Windows Imobile bed to help prevent sleep walking, but I’d hate to have it blue screen while she’s asleep and scare her. There are open source alternatives, but since coding springs is hard and less fun than the foam the only project I could find had temporary code in place that simulated springs, but didn’t offer actual support. Therefore I just bought a physical bed that serves the purpose and builds a foundation for her little body to grow in.
She’s getting so big, its kinda sad, but in a good, fatherly sort of way. She’s also figured out that she can do things herself, the problem is that she hasn’t figured out which things those are so anything we try to do for her gets a fight because she wants to do it. She’s a teenager about 11 years too soon. But at least she doesn’t want us to do everything for her 🙂 Except make her bed, that is.
I’m Dumb Enough to Burn the House Down
I was just telling my friend Dave about a problem I have. I have a timing issue. As was done by Johnny Carson:
Johnny: “Ask me what the most important part of comedy is.”
Guest: “What’s the most important part of com-”
Johnny interrupts, “Timing!”
My problem is that I always ask Jessica as we’re leaving the house, “Did you turn off your curling iron?” But I don’t ask the right time. I wait until I’ve locked the door that goes to the garage and she’s often buckled into the car. That way her concern due to my asking a question that is good because it could lead to the house burning down is most costly. She has to unbuckle, I have to unlock the door (she could but often I have the keys in the locks), and then she’ll run in to check. I could do it, but for some reason she feels compelled to do so.
I’m so dumb about timing that I could surely learn a lesson or t – timing – two.
A [SIC] Letter to the Plubic
I just wanted to let you know that I’m only checking my personal email once or twice a day now. I used to check it like a crack fiend, but decided that my time was worth more than that. I want to read your emails, and I will, but I just thought I better let you know that they’re being read at a different interval than before.
Email is a great tool, and I make a living, in part, because of email – but I’m reading it about twice a day now: morning and evening. If you don’t get a response soon enough give me a call. The phone is still an instant interrupter 🙂
Anonymous Children Did This
Mother: What were you doing before your sister hit you over the head with her toy?
Child: I was singing and I didn’t know what I was doing.
Mother: And then what happened?
Child: And then I went like this [mimes taking hand and pushing on younger sisters face particularly mashing fingers into eyeballs]
I don’t know what I was doing while that happened – but the mother and I were laughing as we recalled the attempt to make face mashing sound like innocence.
Hicks
My grandparents have a pond on ther farm in Northern California. A mere thirty miles from the rocky cliffs of Mendocino. I think that Mendocino is a Spanish word for hippies and liberals, but since I only took two first year courses in Spanish you should probably look that up. Yes, I took the first year course twice. Es muy bueno. El queso es viejo y tiene molde. Anyway, my grandparents pond supplies the water that comes out of their faucets. The water tastes like fish swim in it. The fish do swim in that water, so I feel good about it tasting like pond water.
The problem is that I’m on a business trip down to Grapevine, TX. The water here tastes like fish swim in it. After being filtered by a multi-dollar filtration system that I’m sure the city paid good money to have put in incorrectly. The water has probably been filtered with a fish net and a pair of used pantyhose. I know that sounds cruel, but you’ll find that they have signs that indicate that the water is ‘Superior’ by some random test that is performed by drunk people who have had their tongues cut out. The drunk tongueless people find the water superior to the toilets that they were reversing into the last time they stepped past drunk and into vomiting mode.
The upside is that our friends the Mason’s gave us several bottles of contraband. I believe we have several bottles of bottled water that has been filtered to the point of tasting like nothing. Nothing is exactly what water should taste like. It shouldn’t taste like fish, kool-aide, teriyaki or Coors. Oh , or perier. But God has grace so that when we defile the water with labels like ‘Coors’ or Naive ‘Evian’ the water doesn’t just turn into air through an instant evaporation process so that we’re smitten for suggesting that God’s creation wasn’t good enough.
I just wanted to let you know that I like water… I just like it to taste like water and not sushimi gone awry.
Oh, and I’m thankful for the Mason’s giving us water that you can drink and be proud of.
PSA: If You Have Children
Do not let them carry any toys into the bathroom. For example a doll that they might flush down the toilet. A doll that may get stuck somewhere between here and the rest of the goldfish we’ve put down their.
That is all.