Indication #495 that We're Poor.

I had to duct tape two vents downstairs so that the hot air would travel to our upstairs bedrooms. Duct Tape it to hell.

DADDY!

Alex has been saying "Da, Da, Da, DAAAAA!" for the longest time, but while we were tooling around town today he got to saying "Dad-Di", which was really cool. His sense of mimicry has improved a lot, whereby he'll make that geniune effort to copy what you said. Whenever he said, "Daddy" we'd make a big deal out of it. He would say it in a rather high-pitched, playful tone, but it was cool enough to make me smile and be proud of him. He did it for a few more times at home, and that was really something.

The other thing he learned today was how to drink from a straw. It was a less messier alternative to drinking from a normal cup, especially when we're outside and don't have a sippy cup handy. We would place our fingers a few inches from the tip of the straw so that he wouldn't try to swallow the straw, and then he'd drink the milk. He would often take in more milk than he could handle, so whenever he took his mouth away from the straw there would be a mini explosion of milk. But that's another notch of life skills.

Ah, but poor Alex won't be dreaming about drinking milk with Daddy. Poor guy's got a cold and he woke up crying just a while ago. The snot's got him so clogged up that he can't breathe normally and its interrupting his sleep. We got him but then came the horrible task of suctioning out his nose. Since I haven't done it in a while, I wasn't ready for him to be so feisty. The last time we had to do it, he'd just cry and squirm. Now he screams, and tries to physically remove your hand away from him. He'd get stiff as a board too, which I'm discovering to be a child's defensive manuever.

Try to put him in the car seat and he doesn't want to sit there, he'd go stiff as a board. "Look, you can't buckle me in! I can't bend!"

Zoe is doing well. Her hair curls into funky little swirls after a bath, so it's kinda amusing to study under close inspection. And for some reason, we could use more soap and give her more baths, but she always seems to smell a little odd. Kinda musky. Hmm. We love her though, and she looks cute in her sleeper which has animal ears. I think I'm just a sucker for animal ears. For some reason there's high entertainment value with hoodies with animal ears. I'm easily amused, I suppose.

The Little Brain Scrambler

I had grandiose ideas about what to write on the blog all day, but when I came home from work today and my wife went to her work, all that damn crying and fussing scrambled my brain and all my brillaint ideas fell out of my head. My long-term memory has been damaged by Zoe's insistence on being the model Colic baby.

I love the little girl very very much, but her fussing, especially on nights when only one parent is around and I'm home after a full day's work, seems very overwhelming and tiring. On top of that, having to pay Zoe attention over Alex is tough on me because I feel as if I'm missing out on so much of Alex already. Well, she's asleep now, so that's all that matters.

So Alex's pants somehow worked it way off him this evening, and he was walking around really strangely, as if he had a heavy load. Looking at his diaper, the browning corners did give it away so I had to change him. But after that, I left his pants off and I noticed him doing something really peculiar. He would bend down, and hold his thighs and push and tug on them. It almost looked as if the little guy was trying to lift himself up, but couldn't. I know I tried to as a kid, and it never worked. So, that was amusing to watch.

On the Zoe front, we got some crap news today. Apparently, the bastards at Group Health decided to put their best monkeys on the phone the last time my wife called and added Zoe to the insurance, because when she called today, they said that Zoe wasn't covered. She would not be covered for medical insurance till the 1st of November. So we had to cancel her doctor's appointment tomorrow, and hope that she stays healthy for another few weeks. We still hadn't gotten her birth certificate either, which makes me paranoid. At least I have my blood coursing through her veins so if any paternity issue ever came up, we'd still be okay.

That was random.

Bedtime. I'm beat.

Crazy Sleeping Boy

Another Smile!

A smile!

Power over a Fowl

There's nothing like telling a chicken what to do.

Our favorite things to tell the chicken to do as as follows:

Poke your eye out.
Splits.
Hit yourself in the head.
Bowling.
Eat at McDonald's.
YMCA.
Running Man.