Over protective?

Mama had to run some errands, so Papa got to hang out with his three little ladies.  Being the multi-tasker that I am, I decided to go ahead and make dinner at the same time.  I fired up the grill and had just put the pork burgers on when the dogs started barking incessantly.  I checked on the girls and found the twins entertaining Ruby, so I went around the house to see what was going on. 

We had a raccoon in the yard a few months ago, which, according to Brynne, I broke...with a pellet gun.  I had to make sure we didn't have anything else potentially dangerous.  I got to where the dogs were and scanned the yard.  Nothing.

Ralphie and I both use pellet guns to "break" things.

I turned to head back to the grill and something caught my eye.  It appeared to be a bird that had fallen out a tree.  I started walking towards it, and so did the dogs.  The "bird" then struck out at the dogs, and was batted back with an incredibly quick paw.

So much for the bird.  It was a four and a half foot rat snake, coiled up and not looking pleased.

I put the dogs in their pen, trotted over to the barn to retrieve a shovel, and came back to find the snake right where I left it.  Five seconds later there were two snakes.  One was about three inches long and the other was four and a quarter feet long.

Both were still moving, but since the smaller snake had once been the larger snakes head, neither were harmful any longer.  I scooped them up and went back to the grill. 

To answer the question everyone is thinking, no, our entrée did not change.

After flipping the burgers, I brought the girls outside to see the snake.  Immediately, and not at all surprising, they tried to touch it, which I discouraged.  The body was still trying to slither away, though it was wrapped up in a rake and couldn't go anywhere.  It had left the head to fend for itself on the shovel.  The snake's mouth would open wide, then close slowly, only to reopen again.  Hadley thought it was funny that

"The snake is trying to eat Mama's shovel!" 

After watching it for a few minutes, we went inside to finish supper preparations. 

Mama came home and walked to the front door.  The girls and I were just inside, awaiting her return for two reasons.  First, so we could eat dinner.  Second, to see how she would react to the snake.  To say that Mama was not a fan of snakes would be an understatement.  We wondered if she would scream.  We had actually discussed that very question and were eager to find the answer.

To her credit, she never screamed.  As she walked up the front walk she looked to her left, did a double take, then shot up the stairs to the front door.  There was a barely audible "hey...hey...there's a...hey", followed by Mama nearly putting her fist through the glass door several times.

I opened the door smiling and asked what was wrong.  She pointed toward the snake, and finally was able to utter the word "snake".

I really hope this is the sign for snake crossing and not an indicator of the curve of the road ahead.

Once I pointed out it had no head, and she got over the fact that it was still wriggling around, she calmed down.  Not really, she brought it down a tiny bit, but was still keyed up.

At dinner, the girls repeatedly asked:

"Mama, why did you bang on the door?  It was just a snake."  

When we were done eating, we were going to head over to the neighbor's house to visit.  As we got our shoes on, Brynne calmly stated:

"Mama, you can walk next to me and I'll hold your hand so you won't be startled if we see another snake."

So what do you think?  Is my Brynne over protective of her Mama?  Does this make her a helicopter child?

Never think you've seen it all

There comes a time in every man's life when he sees something that totally amazes him.  Unfortunately, that seems to happen to me a lot.  The good news is I get a blog topic.  The bad news is it stays with me.

As of today, after a wonderful experience, I am officially done visiting the Burger King in Brentwood, Missouri.  Every place is going to mess up an order now and again. Charging for cheese and not adding it.  Forgetting to include something with the order.  I can accept that.  But not what happened today.

Once a month or so I run to Trader Joe's during my lunch break to pick up some items we need.  Typically on those runs, I swing into Burger King and get a fish sandwich.  This is about the only time I actually eat fast food, so they won't miss my business that much. 

As I pulled into the parking lot I saw a gentleman working on his car.  He was wrapping up as I walked past.  Had I stopped to talk with him, I probably could've gotten a nice second hand high from the joint he was smoking.


Perhaps the King encourages this after all.

Yep.  Standing in the parking lot next to a very busy road and smoking a joint.  Almost every time I stop in there is a cop in the parking lot, but fortunately for him, not today.  This guy was either full of confidence or lacking in intelligence.  Oh well.

I proceed inside.  At the counter I place my order.  Mr. Mechanic comes inside and then walks behind the counter. 

He heads back to the cooking area.  Next he takes off his jacket, looks up at a screen, and starts making a sandwich.  The sandwich is wrapped and tossed in a bag.  A small order of fries goes on top of the sandwich.  Napkins are thrown in next.  I'm looking for a person with a manager tag to say something to.  Finally I see one.  She grabs the bag and carries it toward the counter.  I'm just getting ready to say something to her as this guy went straight from working on his car to making a sandwich WITHOUT WASHING HIS HANDS!

"Need any general dentistry done while I'm at it?"

Before I can say anything, she says:

"Would you like any ketchup with your order?"

He made MY sandwich.  MY sandwich will be infused with the alluring combination of weed, oil, grease, and fish.

I informed her I would like a different sandwich.  Puzzled, and a bit angry it would seem, she asks why.  I tell her the gentleman who just made MY sandwich came in from working on his car to make said sandwich and never washed his hands. 

She drops the bag in the trash and yells back

"Remake that last fish sandwich order!"

Mr. Mechanic grabs another bun, and reaches for the fish.

I tell THE MANAGER if the same guy makes that sandwich without washing his hands or putting some gloves on at least I'm just going to ask for another one as I don't think that's very sanitary.

Maybe she was just an assistant manager, or something else, but I actually expected her to do something more.

She hollers back at someone with a name I didn't understand and tells him he needs to make the sandwich.  Mr. Whatshisname takes the sandwich out of Mr. Mechanic's hands and goes to put the finishing touches on it.

"Excuse me," I say,  "Ms. Manager, I don't want to be a pain, but I also don't want to eat contaminated food. Can you just have the second guy make a whole new sandwich since the first guy already got that sandwich dirty too?"

"MR. WHATSHISNAME, MAKE ANOOOTHER FISH SANDWICH." was what she said to him without taking her eyes off of me.

 

Clearly, I was in the wrong to ask her for a new sandwich and she made sure I knew (by the tone of her voice, the arms folded across her chest, and the contorted face she made) how horrible of a person I was. 

 

He made it and wrapped it.  She brought it to me, dumped it on the counter (just the sandwich, not even in a bag), and started to walk away.

"What about my fries?"

I half expected her to grab the bag out of the trash, but she didn't.  Instead, she yelled at some other poor employee, Miss Whatshername, to finish my order. 

Miss Whatshername was very nice.  Finished the order, asked if I wanted any ketchup or anything, and apologized for what just happened.  She even offered me a free desert if I wanted it.

As I walked away, I heard the person in line behind me say

"Ummm, the second fish sandwich he made was just put in a bag and it looks like it's going to be served to someone in the drive thru.  Also, the guy that still hasn't washed his hands just made my sandwich too.  I'd like another one."

I wanted to break into a little EMF right then and there.   

For the sake of anyone else who had to deal with her later in the day, I hope the manager lady went out to Mr. Mechanic's car and took a few hits from the joint herself.

The art of negotiation

Brynne is a fantastic negotiator.  When I make an offer, she is quick to counter with her own terms.  In working through the actual negotiation she is concise and clear with what she wants.

I don't make her wear a costume, but I have offered her door #2.

Unfortunately for her, she doesn't understand the basic principle.  Follow along here and see if you can find where she goes wrong.  Brynne in red, me in black.

Please finish your chicken.

I don't want to eat chicken, I just want a cookie.

If you eat two more pieces of chicken, then you can have your cookie.

No.  Three more pieces.  (She also holds up three fingers, just to make sure I see her terms).

You drive a hard bargain, but I agree to your demands.  If you eat three more pieces of chicken you can have a cookie.

Okay. 

She then eats her three bites of chicken and gets a cookie. 

For those of you not seeing what went wrong in her process, I'll shed a little light on the art of the negotiation.  Typically, when negotiating, the goal is to give up less in order to get what you want, or at the very least, get more for the same amount you're offering.

She could've asked for one bite of chicken to result in the receipt of a cookie.  Conversely, she could've asked for two cookies in exchange for two bites of chicken.

For now, I'll let her negotiate this way, but as soon as she starts dealing with a third party I'll step in and give her a lesson or two.

Fury and Fun, Part 1

Mama had battled the girls all day since they didn't sleep well the night before and failed to take a nap.

After a long, sleepless night, I had battled through a long, sleepless day at work and a commute that took twice as long as it should have.

When I walked in the door, all I wanted was to change clothes, grab a glass of brandy, and relax for a few minutes.  By the time I got halfway to the door, I realized that was not going to happen.  I could hear the cries of the little ones and knew it had probably been going on all day.  I did my best to put on a happy face, but it quickly faded.

When screaming blows out a window, you know you're in for a rough night.

The girls could only fuss, whine, and cry from the moment I walked in the door at 5:05.  They wanted me to pick them up.  There was nothing I could do to appease them.  Dinner was more frustrating than I can ever remember it being in the past as they continued their exhausted antics.  I'd made their favorite foods and they were rejecting them. 

Almost nothing was eaten.  We had several discipline issues.  An entire cup of milk was "accidentally" spilled on me and the floor.  They finally left the table, only to start fighting with each other as I tried to do some clean up.  Screaming, pulling (and tearing) clothes, and more tears were all I saw and heard as I walked into the room.  Fortunately, I was just in time to prevent one of them from biting the other.  This hadn't been an issue for quite some time, but here it was.

I snapped.  I raised my voice louder than I needed to, but I wanted to stun them as I made my way over to the open mouthed one.  I grabbed them and pulled them apart.  They both got disciplined for their part in the battle.  The spilt milk was still on the floor, so they were given the ultimatum:  sit here quietly and read, or suffer the consequences.

It was only 6:30.  I didn't know how I was going to make it until 7:30 without losing my cool.  As I was on my hands and knees, trying to get all the milk off the floor and sop it up from the gaps between the wood planks of the floor, Hadley patted me on the back.  She and Brynne were standing there, with big smiles. 

They were disobeying again, and seemed so pleased to be doing it.  Walking into the kitchen, and right through the milk, was not what I told them to do.  I began to stand up and begin the discipline process, when Hadley spoke up

"Papa, can we help you clean the milk?"

My heart melted.  Until this point, I hadn't seen the wad of Kleenex in each of their hands.  I'll never know which one of them came up with the idea, but I don't care.  The anger/fury/whatever you want to call it which had been building inside of me since the moment I walked through the door was gone instantly.  We finished cleaning the milk and I decided we needed to make the best of the remaining 45 minutes we had together tonight.

The usual actions of reading books, doing puzzles, or playing with toys weren't appealing to me, so what did we do?

Come back next time to hear all about it.  It might just be the best thing ever.

Let's talk

Until recently, any actual conversations I've had with the girls have been mostly one sided.  I could ask them a question, and they might answer it, but that's usually as far as it got.

Last night, Brynne and I had our longest conversation to date.  Brynne's words are in orange (her favorite color) while mine remain in black.

The setup:  Last night we were going to give Ruby her first official bath in a tub.  Unfortunately, late in the afternoon I discovered her bathtub had a hole in it.  I left it sitting at the top of the stairs when I went to get the girls up from nap.  A few hours later, the girls were eating dinner.  Mama found a tub we could borrow from a friend of ours, so she was getting ready to go get it.

They always think we're going either to Walgreen's or church when we leave the house.

And here we go:

Is Mama going to Walgreen's to get me some medicine (pronounced me-ci-cine)?

No, she's going to get a bathtub from Mrs. Anna?

But we already have a tub.

Yes, we do, but we need to get one for Ruby.

Ruby has one.  It's upstairs, lovie.

You're right, but that one has a hole in it.

Ok.  We need to put some tape on it to fix it.

That's a great idea, but tape won't hold the water in.

Oh, ok.  Papa has to fix Ruby Edith's tub. 

The hole is too big to be fixed.

Papa can fix it. Papa can fix anything.

Some things can't be fixed, but thanks for the vote of confidence.

You're welcome.  Papa, may I please have some more milk?  Yes you may.

I realize due to my incredible computer skills you can hardly tell I doctored the picture above.  If you  look closely you may be able to see it.  In order to keep this post clean, I had to do a little censoring of Bob the Builder. Sometimes, language can get a little rough on the job site, and Bob forgets he's supposed to be child friendly.   If you've ever seen the outtakes from one of his shows you'd understand what I mean.   

Change

Aside from two recent(ish) reposts from a year ago, I haven't been doing too much writing, as you may have noticed.  Now that a few items have been crossed off my list, I hope to get back into it. 

What are those things I crossed off my list?  Glad you asked.

Minor item 1:  New house

We had a house under contract for six months, just waiting to sell our old one as we didn't want to have two mortgages at once.  As we found out later, someone else was going to make an offer on our new house, which we couldn't have matched, but they were a day late in getting it put together. 

Even though it's 150 years old, it's new to us!

Minor item 2:  The move

We were supposed to have 24 hours to move everything we owned from one house to the other.  Even though they are only 10 minutes apart at most, it still would've required a small miracle.  We ended up getting three days to move, though it was basically done in two.

Minor item 3:  The post move

Now that we're in, the original list of things we need to do has grown.  The structure of the house is solid, and we're trying as much as possible to keep the integrity of the house by not making sweeping renovations/updates, but there are so many items the previous owners just didn't keep up with.  Every day I find more things to put on my list.  At least I like lists!  The only thing we need to upgrade that we can't live without in the Midwest is air conditioning, so that will be added this spring.

See those houses way off in the background?  Those are some of our closest neighbors.

In case you're new to reading me, forgot about my history with a neighbor, or just wanted to reread it, please check out the posts here, here, and here to see why the caption above makes me so happy.

My to do list for outside work just got a little bigger as well.

Minor item 4:  Ruby

Less than two weeks after moving homes, Mama was hard at work moving Ruby from the womb to the real world.  Papa is proud to present his third little lady, Ruby Edith, being held by her very excited sisters.

One born on 1/3, two born on 2/3.  Should be easy to remember.

Even though she was the biggest baby we've had (yet), people think she looks so little when I hold her.  I have to remind them I am 25 times her size.  The girls are only three to four times her size. 

It is funny, though, that due to the long hours for everything, the stress of everything, and the lack of time available to eat, my weight has gone by the equivalent of two of her since she was born.

Hurray stress!

Funny girl

Brynne is starting to display her sense of humor and quick thinking.  Just wanted to share one example of each. 

Humor:

I keep a glass of water on the nightstand at night.  As I sat in the living room the other day, Brynne casually strolled up to me and asked

"Papa, where's your glass of water?"

I told her I didn't know, but I would go look for it.  She instantly started grinning from ear to ear.  As I walked into the bedroom, she trailed me, watching my every move.  The glass was not where it should have been.  Seeing as how it was at least half full about ten minutes earlier, I checked the floor for a trail of water drops.

There were none.

I went into the bathroom to see if she'd emptied it into the sink and left it on the counter as she often does.

This is somewhere between a giggle and full on laughter.  Makes me smile every time.

It was not there.  She giggled behind me.

I asked her where it was and she didn't reply.  She just giggled. 

Upon returning to the bedroom, I noticed the drawer of my nightstand was open slightly and immediately I had flashbacks.

As I walked to the drawer, her giggles became louder.  I sat on the bed and as I reached for the drawer, her giggles became full on laughter.

The drawer pulled open easily, and there was the cup.  It was empty, but the drawer was dry.  As I pulled the cup out and set it on the nightstand she stopped laughing long enough to say

"Papa found it.  Hooray!"

Then she starter to applaud me.  The sink had been dry, the drawer was as well, and the flower next to the nightstand was not newly moist.  Where, pray tell, had the water gone?

She peed about nine times over the next hour and a half.  Mystery solved.

Quick Thinking:

Normally, when we sit down to eat a meal, whatever we serve is their only option.  They don't get to ask for anything they want.

The other morning, I mixed things up a bit and asked them what they wanted for breakfast.  Last time I did this it worked out kinda marvelously, so I thought I'd try again.

Brynne took a few seconds and then said

"Yogurt!"

with quite a bit of enthusiasm.

Yogurt was not an option as we were running a bit short on that.  By "running a bit short" I mean we were out entirely.

I didn't want to tell her we were out of it as that would only make her want it more.  Thinking quickly myself, I told her

"We'll have yogurt for dinner.  What would you like for breakfast?"

It took her another few seconds to reply

"I want dinner."

We do love breakfast for dinner, but dinner for breakfast is a new concept we may need to explore.

Same old same old

When trying to come up with dinner plans for your family, or even just for yourself, do you ever feel like you're in a rut?  Like you have the same thing to eat every week? 

I've been wondering recently if the girls were getting tired of eating virtually the same foods over and over again.  Mama does a great job of planning their meals, and ours, to provide lots of variety, but when it's my turn to do it, I just can't get too creative.

My entree staples for them are:

peanut butter and honey
hot dogs
bratwursts
chicken
salami (their all time favorite)
meatballs
pasta
breakfast foods (eggs, waffles, french toast, etc)

I was trying to rack my brain for something new the other day and I just happened to ask Hadley, who was helping me be creative, what she wanted to eat.

"Bratwurst"

Mmmmm, bratwurst.

I wasn't really sure if  she meant that, or was just talking, but I went ahead and got some out and started to prepare dinner.

I asked her about a side dish, and she replied with her all time favorite

"Chips"

Easy enough. 

With dinner prepared we sat down to eat.  My two little ones barely touched their food.  Only eating a total of:

3 bratwursts
1 apple
1 orange
4 handfuls (mine, not theirs) of chips
2 yogurt cups
3 glasses of milk
1 glass of water

Yes, I was being sarcastic when I said they barely touched their food.

After all this disappeared, Brynne informed me

"Me want something else to eat."

They got a few M&Ms, usually reserved for potty training treats, and that seemed to top them off. 

From the mouths of babes

Not much time to blog, but I have been able to jot some notes down recently about events as they are taking place around the house.  Here are a few of them:

Example 1:

We had to move the car seats from one car to the other for a few days.  Upon trying to do this, I discovered there was barely enough legroom for the driver when their car seats were rear facing, so I switched them around to forward facing temporarily.

The first time I put Brynne in the car she promptly informed me I was putting her in the car

Upside down!! 

She screamed and cried until we got moving.  Once she realized she could actually see out the front, along with seeing Mama and Papa, she was thrilled.

Example 2:

Hadley informed me her tummy hurt.  I asked her why.  She replied

Why not?

Example 3:

Mama is doing such a great job of teaching them manners.  Hadley told me, when I gave her the option of either eating more fish sticks or more strawberries,

No thank you.

Even when I informed her I wasn't asking if she wanted to eat more, it was a choice of which one she wanted to eat, she stuck to her guns.

No thank you...Papa.

Example 4:

Mama has, actually, been able to teach them some real manners.  If they want more milk or water to drink, or really anything they want, they can't just point, grunt, or say gimme.  They use the following phrase:

Mama (or Papa), may I please have some more milk please?
 

They don't stop there.  Since they're used to one of us saying "yes you may" for a legitimate request, they make it and answer it all at once.

Mama (or Papa), may I please have some more milk please yes you may. 

Example 5:

We were sitting on the bed, reading the bible as we do every night before they head off to sleep.  I had Hadley on my left and Brynne on my right.  They would take turns turning the pages as I read, so I was free to put an arm around each of them and snuggle them tightly.  Hadley took one look at my hand, grabbed it to move it, and told me (while shaking a finger at me) to

Keep your hands to yourself.

 Example 6:

The girls were eating their dinner, but were pretty much done.  They were asking for some more milk, so I told them they had to clean their plates (stealing an old phrase from my parents) before they got more.  I turned around to get the milk and when I turned back, Brynne had taken all the food off her plate and stacked it on her tray.  She threw her hands in the air and proudly proclaimed

All clean!!

New words and phrases

So the past few weeks have been incredibly busy.  Not just for me, but for the girls as well.  Here is a short sample of the new stuff they've been heard uttering around the house.

When they want a drink, they can no longer just say "milk" or "water".  Now, it's "Papa, may I have more milk/water/whatever please?".  After they ask, I inform them "yes you may", which Hadley repeats.  After saying this the other night, she gave me a bit of encouragement by saying "good talk".

It was a good talk, even though I really didn't add to the conversation.

Brynne informed me the "air conditioner is making funny noises", and then asked me to "please fix now".

I won't mention any names, but one of the little ladies was going to the bathroom.  I asked if she needed to be changed.  She then replied, "still working on it".  When she was done, she let me know it was a "big load". 

They've both started talking to me on the phone when I'm not there.  Every conversation is similar.  They say "hello", tell me "Papa go work", and then to "come back soon!".

On the weekends, I typically fix breakfast for everyone.  The night before, it is not uncommon for one of them to put in a request.  On Friday, Hadley wanted "pancakes" and Saturday, Brynne asked for "donuts".  Hadley was not disappointed to get regular and chocolate chip waffles.  Brynne was very pleased that I went and got donuts for us.  She kept asking to eat them in the "backseat", as we did the week prior while on a little father/daughters picnic, but I already had them dressed for church, so I didn't want to risk getting them dirty.

If you've been following me or Mama for any period of time, you know the girls don't watch TV at all.  When Mama left for the night last week, Brynne was overly distraught.  She told me "no" when I asked if playing with trains, trucks, letters, bouncy balls, puzzles, games, books, going to the basement, going outside, or playing with the dogs would make her feel better.  After 10 minutes I gave up and just asked her what would make her feel better.  She stopped crying, appeared to be deep in thought, and then replied "watch Winnie Pooh".


Winnie the Pooh truly makes all things better.

So we did.

Holiday Fun

While it was weird celebrating the fourth of July without having the next day off, I kind of like it.  My reason is purely self serving:  I like having Wednesdays off from work.  It splits up the week nicely.

So what did we do to celebrate?

Thanks for asking.  We gave Mama a lot of time to herself.

I got up and got the girls out of bed as I almost always do.  I then proceeded with cooking seven eggs, half a pound of potatoes, half a pound of sausage, and eight pieces of toast.  There was a little bit of sausage left, and that's it.

Mama got her breakfast in bed, but the girls and I stayed out so she could either eat in piece or stay asleep.  She ate, then went back to sleep in case you were wondering.

The girls and I then ran errands (ewands).  Since they have a ton of new words, I'll put them in italics after the actual word just to share.  The errands took up most of the morning, until it was time for lunch, and cosisted of visiting the following locations:

local produce stand (famews maket)

bank (bant)

milk store (mik sto)

veterinarian's office (vefguthsdy ahej)

grocery store (gocery sto)

park (pak)

gas station (gees staton)

When we got home, they entertained one another while I prepared lunch, which wasn't as exciting (or as much) as breakfast (befast), just some leftovers.

They then went to take a nap (nap), but they forgot they were supposed to be sleeping (seeping), so they just chatted for a few hours.

After nap, we picked tomatoes (matoes), played for a bit by rolling dumptrucks (dumptucks) back and forth, read a few of their favorite books (being sure to include this one), and then I grilled apple flavored chicken sausages for them.  In case you're wondering, they ate a combined two and a half sausages to go along with grapes (poople gapes, and not geen gapes) and sweet potato chips.

This was chased with milk (mik), water (wawter), vitamins (pills), and a chocolate chip cookie (kookie) bar Mama made.

We then took our bath (baff), read their Bible (Bible), prayed, said goodnight (nite) to the world, and went to bed.

Mama did join us for some of these activities, so she didn't have a full day off.  She did, however, get some good down time I think.

As for me, I went right to bed and fell asleep immediately for the first time in a very long time.

Julia's always been able to fall asleep quickly, but I can understand how a busy day like this (which is typical for her) can wear you out.

PS - Spell check went nuts when I ran it on this post.  I guess it doesn't translate toddler to English.

You know you're tired when...

1 - you wonder why your mouse isn't working, until you realize you've grabbed your cell phone and are trying to use that to manipulate your computer.

but my mouse is wireless

2 - the phone rings, you pick it up, nobody is on the other end, and it keeps ringing. Meaning, you picked up your cell phone when the office phone was ringing.

another way to fail using the phone

3 - you find yourself in a 30 minute conversation with the most annoying person in your office and you are okay with it because it keeps you from falling asleep at your desk.

Yes, Milton, I'm still listening

4 - you have to touch your eyeball to see if you did, in fact, remember to put in your contacts that morning.

bet he doesn't have this problem

5 - you try not to blink because reopening your eyes seems like too much work.

a much better solution

6 - you hang up a call rather than be put on hold because the elevator music they're playing might put you to sleep.

7 - you take two hours to realize you never turned on the light in your office.

I suppose that's enough light to work by

8 - you start eating lunch and then realize it's only 9 AM.

whatever

9 - the funniest thing you've heard all day is the guy in the office next to you repeating "hello" 35 times before deciding something is wrong with the caller's phone. Actually, it was 35 times over four different calls...I counted.

apparently not

10 - you count the number of times the guy in the office next to you says hello before hanging up.

11 - you catch yourself doing the sleeping head bob, while in the restroom.

at least he's not on the toilet

12 - you find yourself mentally measuring the space under your desk and wondering if you could nap there without anyone finding out.

sadly, the answer is no

13 - you've managed to finish a Mountain Dew before anyone else is even in the office.

I can't wait for the sugar high to wear off, maybe then I'll sleep

All of this happened to me the other morning so I thought I'd share it - and because I haven't had a good list post in quite some time. 

Go ahead, laugh at me.  I'm not sure I'll even know what's going on if this keeps up.

Let's get this done ASAP

It's official, after eight counter offers we've got our (hopefully) forever house under contract.  Yes, you read that right.  It took eight counter offers (over the course of 10 weeks) to come to a price both sides could agree on. 

During this time, we've been cleaning our house, putting things in storage, and generally just getting it ready to go on the market.  I've been wondering if all those late nights and storage rental costs were going to be well spent, and it turns out they were.

The less time I see this sign in the yard, the happier I will be.

Our house went on the market Wednesday morning.  We spent about an hour Tuesday night doing some last minute rearranging of the furniture (more on that to come later) and figured we'd have time over the weekend to do another thourough cleaning. 

Thursday, we received notice about noon we had a showing that night at 6:30.  We also found out someone else drove by and called in about it and a third person wants to see it Friday.

So much for cleaning this weekend!

Back to Thursday,  We busted our humps getting the last remaining details ready, which included me doing some yard work when it was 108.  At least it was a dry heat.  HA!  Once it gets over 100, I don't care if it's dry or not, it's still hot.

Our listing agreement says no visits during naptime and people must be out of the house by 7.  Our first showing was going to throw our schedule off.

Julia made a call and our friends graciously allowed us to bring our girls, and my parents who were in for the day, over to their house to swim, take a bath (just the girls - I assume my parents showered at their hotel), eat, and hang out.

I'm sure we could've gone swimming at the neighbor's, but we decided against asking them.

As we were headed home to put the girls down at about 7:10, I got a phone call from our relator.  The people were running behind schedule and wanted to see if they could come around 7:30 instead.  We hesitantly agreed, but said they had to be sure they would be there at that time. 

They couldn't, so they said they'd reschedule.

I know if we want to sell the house quickly, we need to be as flexible as possible.  We don't mind that to a certain extent.  It is difficult, however, not to be upset when you do everything you can and nobody walks through the house.

I was a bit frustrated we had to do everything we did to accomodate a showing that never happened. On the other hand, I was very pleased the girls took the change of schedule in stride and that we got to hang out with friends during the week - a rarity.

A week away from home

I've been gone for a week, which is why I haven't posted much.  Here are a few observations from the week on the road:

Most shower heads hit me right about chest high - that's where they come out of the wall.  One hotel shower this week was actually about seven feet high.  It was wonderful, but I'm guessing not many people could take advantage of the adjustable flows as the control for it was another six inches higher. 

This is the typical shower head placement from above, and the shower curtain height from below.

I'm sure housekeeping didn't like all the water on the floor of the bathroom, but if you're going to install the shower head that high, you probably ought to go ahead and raise the level of the shower curtain to greater than five feet six inches.  If I can look out over the curtain, it's probably not a good thing.

If you are driving a shuttle, and looking for tips, I have one for you.  You didn't help the 65 year old woman load her large suitcase onto the shuttle, so I did.  Don't stand there with your hand out when I get off.  I should've taken money out of your jar and slapped you when you looked annoyed (with your hand outstretched and palm up) as I walked past you.

Ever wonder why some companies are not as profitable as they could be?  Here's a perfect example.  My co-worker and I had a few drinks and an appetizer at the restaurant in the hotel.  I had them charge the bill to my room on two different nights.  When I went to checkout, only the second night appeared on the bill.  Also, the soda and water I had charged directly to the room from the lobby didn't make it onto the bill.  I informed the front desk they were missing those two charges and they said "looks like you got free drinks".  I feel good that I tried to pay for the services I used, but I wonder how often this happens and how many times a $50 bill just gets written off.

Hotel beds are almost always too short.


Even sleeping diagonally I didn't have room to stretch out.

Toddlers change so much more when you're gone for a few days than they would have had you been there.

Even when I try to schedule a time to talk with Julia, something comes up on one end so we end up talking in the wee hours of the morning.  We're then both exhausted the next day with no chance to nap.

Coming home takes twice as long as it does to get there. 

The time away lasts twice as long as the time at home does.

It's impossible to eat healthy on the road and the "gyms" hotels advertise rarely live up to their billing.  I wouldn't necessarily consider an 8X8 room with a treadmill, one five pound dumbbell and a set of 10 pound ones a "workout facility".  Oh, and it is tough to swim laps in a 10X10 pool.

Who am I talking to?

Here is a quick list of things I find myself saying frequently at home:

No.

Sit.

Stay.

No.

Don't eat anything off the floor.

Don't eat grass.

No.

Don't touch the oven.

You need to sit on your bottom or lay down when you're on a chair.

No.

You're not supposed to be in this room.

Don't go to the bathroom there.

No.

Excuse you.

How about some kisses?

No.

Do you want to go outside?

Be quiet.

No.

Can you tell which comments are directed toward a dog and which ones are for children?  I'll give you a hint - anything in italics applies to both.

Say what?

Our girls have never been Chatty Cathys.  They've more or less relied on sign language and pointing to get their point across.  Recently, there has been a bit of a change at our house.

One morning, as I got them out of bed, they said the usual "Papa, Papa".  The next morning, they were engaging me in conversation. 

They went from 15 words to 1,500 overnight it seemed.  How did that happen!  I haven't had my head buried in the sand, and I haven't been away from home. 

Here are a few of the conversations we've had, and an insight into what is was like just a week ago.

Me:  Hey Brynne, what do you think about breakfast for dinner?

The Brynne of old would nod her head in approval.

Brynne of now:  I like it!

Actually, we all love breakfast for dinner.   Who doesn't?

Me:  Hadley, can you tell your puppy dogs goodnight?

The Hadley of old would pant like a dog.

Hadley of now:  Good Win.  Nit Feee.

While getting in the car, no and tantrums have been replaced with "pak", as we head to the park.  Actually, they say this when we head anywhere - they REALLY love the park.

Going to church gets the response

"Abby, Gen, Toms"

clear references to her three friends Abby, Gwen and Thomas who will be there to play with them.

Throwing their hands in the air or pushing a plate off their tray, have been replaced with

"all done"

to signify the end of a meal.

We're not at the point where they can communicate everything they want, but I think we've made huge strides.  NO and tantrums still happen as there is still a certain level of frustration, but it's getting better.  Special kudos to Mama for all the work she does with them while I'm not around, and even when I am.

At least I can give up on trying to learn the signs they know.  Now, all I need is a translator or a toddler to english dictionary.

Mama Loves: A Festive, Domestic God

It's true.

I can hold my own in the kitchen.

Festive cooking cutters make breakfast way more fun!

No matter how big or how small the "holiday" I carve up french toast for the occasion.

Joining my wife today for her weekly Mama Loves linky party. Have an idea that makes parenting better? Share the love!

PS - The title was mama's idea.

First failure

I thought I'd share my first failure as a father today.  Quick story.  Hope you enjoy.

The first time I was feeding Brynne was within 12 hours of her being born.  The nurse came in while I was holding Brynne and told us we needed to feed them.  She gave me a four pack of formula, instructed me on which nipple I should use, and then directed me to give her two.

I looked at the four ounce bottle, thought it seemed like a lot of food for a newborn, but started the feeding process. 

I can't possibly tell you everything that was going through my mind, but I was a little overwhelmed.  It was such a blessing to be able to feed my daughter.

Brynne took down the first bottle eagerly.  I removed the nipple, put it on the second bottle, shook it well, and resumed the bonding/feeding. 

She got through about three ounces and then stopped.  I tried to encourage her to eat more, but she was not having it. 

Since I'd never read anything about feeding, and had no clue what I was supposed to do, I decided to do the only thing I had ever seen on TV or in the movies - I burped her. 

As I held her to my shoulder and patted her back, she unleashed a glorious burp.  I thought I was done and felt pleased I could help.  I held her up to look at her...

then she threw up.

Not a little.  This was a large vomit.  Fortunately, I had a blanket on me which caught everything.

The nurse came back in as I was cleaning up and seemed surprised at the amount of vomit she produced. 

The nurse asked how much I gave her.  I sheepishly admitted she hadn't finished the two bottles.  I asked if I should try again or wait.  I failed in my first fatherly duty.

The nurse looked a little shocked.

I didn't understand why she looked so appalled.

As she went on to explain, I was supposed to give her two OUNCES of formula, not two BOTTLES.

I wanted to smack the nurse.  Instead of doing that, I merely asked her to be a little more specific in the future when giving instructions to me or any other new parent. 

I don't think I can take all the blame for this failure.  Actually, I think I can take very little responsibility for this, but since I failed to ask a question, I suppose some of it falls to me.

What a week

This past week has been a bit crazy.  I thought I'd share some of the stupid things that have gone on around me, and some of the things that made me smile.

Who has the more mischievous look on her face?

Stupid - An extended cab truck, with a full sized bed, parked in a compact car space in the parking garage. 

Good - the car next to said truck, on the driver's side, parked within inches of the truck.  The truck driver will now have to get in on the passenger side and crawl across.  Well played.

Stupid - I follow a guy onto the elevator.  He pushes the button for the 14th floor and then I push the button for the 5th floor.  As I step to the back of the elevator and the door closes, he steps to the front and stands right in the middle of the door.  As the door opens to the 5th floor, I have to say excuse me so he'll move and I can get off the elevator.

Good - He must have been distracted all morning thinking about getting to be in the front of the line.  I say this because he had one white and one black sock on - I only noticed this as the brown suit pants he was wearing made him look like he was expecting a flood.  They were about three inches too short.

Stupid -  Me throwing up all night and then deciding to eat some dry toast early in the morning.  That was fine, but chasing it with a glass of milk was a bad decision on my part.  Dairy + stomach flu = no toast or milk in my tummy.  It also meant no bile, no acid, and really no anything in my stomach for many more hours.  Reminded me of this.

Good - Mama being incredible and taking care of twin toddlers and ailing Papa for the day.  While they didn't come in to play and jump all over me (thankfully), they did stand at the bedroom door and wave at me, telling me hi and bye, while I was quarantined.

Stupid - see here, and here as well.

Good - see here.

Stupid - Me misreading my wife's facial expression and then making a crack about what was taking place.  Only later did I realize she was not laughing at the situation, but merely trying not to cry as she attempted to parallel park...our 17 foot long extended Trailblazer...in a tight spot...on a busy road...with two screaming toddlers in the car...and a flock of observers on the sidewalk. 

Good - The look of appreciation on her face as I later acknowledged my failure, apologized for my words, and asked for her forgiveness.

Good - A lunch date with my three ladies and sister-in-law at work.  I got to show them all off as we walked around the office.  Also, so many compliments on how adorable and well behaved they were - all of them.

Stupid - The new version of bubble wrap.  Our girls love the old style you can actually pop.  In case you missed it, you can see their joy here.  The new stuff has five or six air pockets that are not filled fully with air.  As you squeeze one, the air simply moves to the other pockets. 

Herding chickens...always a good time.

Good -  In the end, I discovered if you roll it up, and then have a toddler jump on it, it will still explode, but nothing like it used to be. I'm sure it's better for shipping, but it's much worse for entertainment than it used to be.

What now?

Well, it finally happened.  After over four years of marriage and two years of raising children together, Julia decided to leave us.  She gave us very little warning.  I always knew it was a possibility, but I am still not prepared for it.  She deals with so much on a daily basis.  I don't know how she manages to put up with two toddlers and an insane husband all the time.  In the end, it was just too much.

Goodbye, my love.

My girls and I watched through the window as Mama drove away.  They didn't fully understand the gravity of what was going on, but I imagine my tears were telling them something was not normal.  I believe they were thinking she is just taking the car and going to get something for us all.  They do not realize she will not be coming back.  They pat me on the back, give me hugs, and then are off to play.

That's right.  She's gone.  Mama is gone.

I appreciate your continued support as I hunt and peck away at the keyboard to tell stories.  I hope I've amused you over the past six months.  I don't know when the humor may return.  I'm struggling through this black period of mourning as the reality sets in.  I apologize for any typos as the tears make the keyboard difficult to see.

I'm alone with my girls.  A newly single father tasked with raising two beautiful girls.  I don't know what I'm supposed to do, or how I'm supposed to do it, or even if I can do it.

I should've seen this coming.  I should've done more to prepare myself for the possibility. 

We got through dinner, but I'm not ready to do bath time on my own.  I'll need a lot of help, but I don't know where to turn.  I can put them to bed tonight, but what do I do when they wake up and ask for Mama?  They will do that, too.  I know it.  As sure as the sun comes up, they will ask for their mother and then what do I tell them?

Breakfast will come and go.  The same for lunch, and their afternoon nap.  When they get up from their nap, and there is still no Mama, what do I say? 

How can I explain to them that their mother is not around?  How can you explain such grown up concepts of love, loss, and abandonment?  When will they realize she is gone?  When will they wonder if they'll ever see her again?

I pray for her.  I pray she will be safe.  I pray she will do the things she needs to do.

Most of all, I pray she'll come back safely.   

And now, the rest of the story.

I am so thankful she'll only be gone one night.

What did you think I was saying?

I love misdirection.  Oh, how I love it.