My daughter has been on a kick lately. She’s been wanting to watch nothing except for one particular cartoon. I used to like it. Well, maybe not like it. It wasn’t bad. I used to not hate it, anyways. Now, it’s annoying as hell.
For the past couple of weeks, it’s been nothing but “Doo Doo”. For those of you who don’t know what that is, that’s what Baby E calls Scooby Doo. Although, now she also sometimes calls him “Dooby Doo”. (Feel free to insert pot joke here….) Continue reading
A few days ago, my mother was over at my house visiting. She was sitting on the couch with my wife, while I was sitting in a computer chair next to them. We talked for a few minutes before Baby E ran up and stopped in the middle of all of us. My daughter pointed towards the kitchen and said, “Doo doo.”
The three adults looked at each other in open confusion. We are all fluent in Baby E talk, but none of us knew what she meant by that. Doo doo isn’t a phrase that we use around here. So, I ask her, “What?”
She points to the kitchen again and repeats, “Doo doo.”
We debated amongst ourselves for a few minutes on what she could possibly be talking about, but none of us had a clue. Finally, I tell her to take me to it. Baby E grabbed my finger and led me into the kitchen. She stopped in front of one of our cabinets.
She points to the cabinet and screams, “Doo doo!”
Now, I’m even more confused. The cabinet she was pointing to is the one where we keep our chips, crackers, and other assorted munchables. Was she trying to tell me what happens after eating the contents of that cabinet?
Baby E raised her arms in the universal signal for “pick me up”. I grabbed her and lifted her up in front of the cabinet. She opened the door and pulled something out. I immediately start laughing as she hands me this…
image from walmart.com
Two years ago, I was just a guy who didn’t really know what I was doing. Whenever something new came along, I just went with the first thing that came into my head and hoped it was right.
Now, two years later, I’m pretty much still in the same boat.
My little girl celebrated her second birthday yesterday. Looking back on the day she was born, things seem so surreal. I remember her being born, but, when I look at pictures of her from that day, I don’t remember her ever being that small. All I see is how big she is now.
She runs, jumps, climbs, and (like her mother and grandmother) falls. She talks up a storm whether there’s anyone in the room with her or not. Her laugh is a beautiful sound, even though it sounds downright evil at times.
Watching her play is never dull. She’s always doing something entertaining. If you blow bubbles for her, she’ll chase after them saying, “I got it. I got it,” over and over.
She’s also not afraid to let you know what she wants. No matter what you’re doing, if you have something in your hands, she’ll knock it out of them, grab one of your fingers and pull you to whatever it is that she wants you to do for her. If you resist her pull, she’ll start crying until you either give in or she gets bored and moves on to something new.
Even though she’s a pain in the butt sometimes, I couldn’t have asked for a better daughter than the one I have been blessed with. Baby E, Daddy loves you very much and I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life doing whatever I can to make you happy.
Whenever my daughter hears, or sees, something new, she gets a particular look on her face. It’s half confusion (because she doesn’t know what she just heard or saw) and half excitement (at discovering something new). Since she’s at an age where most things are still new to her, she gets her “new thing” look a lot. If I see her with the “new thing” look on her face, I always do the same thing. I’ll put on a big smile and, in my excited daddy voice, I’ll ask her, “What was that, honey?”
Her answer to the question depends on what the new thing was. If it was something exciting, she’ll run around giggling hysterically. If it was something that scared her, she’ll jump up into my arms. Most of the time, though, she’ll just point at whatever the new thing is and start babbling.
On Tuesday night, I was giving Baby E her bath upstairs, while Mrs. Revis was downstairs doing some laundry. She played with her toys for a while before standing up to get another one of her rubber ducks. While she was standing……she farted.
I don’t know what it was about that night, maybe it was the position of the shower curtain or the level of the water in the bathtub, but her little toot echoed. Upon hearing the echo, she got the “new thing” look on her face. I followed through on my end of the ritual by energetically asking, “What was that, honey?”
Her answer was something different. This time, an ear-to-ear grin spread out over her face as she pointed to her bottom and yelled, “BUTT!”
Five minutes later, my wife came upstairs to make sure I was ok because I was still laughing.
It all started two weeks ago today. It was a normal Saturday. My wife and I ran some errands, caught up on some missed TV shows, and played around with our daughter. Then, just as we were starting to get Baby E settled down to go to sleep, it happened. She got sick.
Vomiting is something she’s still not used to, so it freaked her out a little bit. I immediately picked her up to try and calm her down while Mrs. Revis started cleaning it up. Once I got her to stop crying, I put her down and helped my wife finish wiping it up. After that, I put something in her juice cup and gave it to her. She drank some of it and seemed to be back to normal.
A half hour later, she got sick again.
We repeated the same process and (somehow) got her to go to sleep a little while later. I was hoping that a night’s sleep would be all she needed to get over whatever she had. It wasn’t. At 8 that morning, she got sick again. We ended up taking her to an Urgent Care place as soon as it opened an hour later.
The doctor there was a quack, so we decided to not listen to him and waited until her doctor’s office opened the next day to see them instead. Luckily, the frequency of her getting sick was lessening, so she wasn’t in danger of dehydrating herself anymore.
Her doctor said it was just a bug that was going around, and there really wasn’t anything that we could do except make sure she was getting enough fluids. So, that’s what we did. Baby E didn’t actually start feeling better until around Thursday. Then, it came to last Saturday.
We were throwing a birthday party for my father-in-law at his house. My job was, basically, to show up, watch Baby E while Mrs. Revis hung out with her family, and man the grill. Right before we were getting ready to go to his house, my stomach started feeling weird. I had some spicy stuph for lunch, so I didn’t think anything about it.
After we got there, I completed my tasks, but by the time I had finished grilling, my stomach was feeling much worse. I told my wife that I was going home. She ended up staying there for a little while longer, while I brought Baby E home with me. By the time I got home, I knew something bad was going to happen soon, so I dropped Baby E off with my mother and ended up spending most of the rest of the night in the bathroom.
I spent all day Sunday laying on the couch feeling miserable. As the day went along, I started feeling a little bit better and was eventually able to eat something again. By Monday morning, I felt well enough to go to work…..dammit.
Throughout the rest of the week, both my mother and my wife ended up getting the bug. Hopefully, now that we’ve all gone through that crap, we’ll be bug-free for a little while.
Oh….Plus, my Xbox crapped out on me. That’s 33 grams of BS….
When I did my first post about one of my song stories, I warned you that there would be some that were mundane (and probably pointless). This is one of those. I’d feel bad about telling you a story that you may not find interesting, but, hey, nobody’s forcing you to read this.
Anyways…
When Twindaddy split with the twins’ mother, he came to live with me for a while. They were around 6 at the time (Although you’d have to ask Twindaddy to find out for sure. I’m not very good at remembering things). This particular incident happened not long after he moved in. It was a time when I still had a little something to learn about what I can and can’t listen to when children are present….
The living room and the dining area of the apartment were all one big room. One day, the twins were at the dining room table doing their homework, while Twindaddy was on the couch playing Madden. My computer was situated right next to the TV, so I sat at the computer desk, manning the media player (we’d usually have our own music playing over the game because the announcers on Madden tend to be very annoying).
Our songs were selected randomly by the computer, and everything was fine….until Last Resort by Papa Roach started playing. At first, I thought nothing of it. In fact, I started singing along.
Cut my life into pieces, this is my last resort
I looked over at my brother, fully expecting him to be singing along with me. Instead, he had a look of terror on his face. In the split-second I was wondering why he had that look on his face, I remembered what the next line of the song is. I practically leaped at the mouse to click on the Next button.
Suffocation, no breathing, don’t give a fu….
At this point, I always picture myself doing one of those movie “slowly opening one eye to see if the bad thing occurred” gags, although I’m pretty sure that never happened. It was more like I gave a nervous chuckle while the twins looked at me like I was crazy.
Either way, from that point on, I was a lot more careful about what was played whenever they were around.
Don’t you hate those parents who do nothing but talk about their children?
Well, get ready to hate me, because that’s what I’m going to do.
