The Principal Players

This is my 50th post on the blog so I thought I'd do something different and clarify and give a bit more info on some of the people I seem to mention from time to time.

The Pook:  (a.k.a. - My Better Half, the Mrs., the Woman Who For Some Reason Puts Up With Me).  She's living proof that good things come to those who wait.  It may be sappy to say it, but she's my best friend and I'd be lost without her.

A few other facts about her.  She's in the same profession as me but at a different location. She's never met a craft that she didn't like or excel in and as previously mentioned, she's an Olympic class sleeper.  Though she does talk in her sleep from time to time which leads to interesting conversations.

Pook: [mumbles something]

Me (not realizing she's actually asleep): What's that?

Pook: The blankets are [mumbles]

Me: What's wrong with the blankets?

Pook: They're getting in and out of the basket.

Me: ????

Pook: They're going for rides.

Me: What?

Pook (now waking up enough to realize a little more of her surroundings): Nothing.  Good night.

Me: What??

Finally, she's an excellent mother to our two youngsters.


The Bear: (a.k.a. - The Bug, The Bud, Squirtimus Prime and Goober Noober).  The Bear turned three this year which in and of itself is astonishing to me.  He's incredibly bright for his age and was essentially a perfect child for the first two years of his life.  This year he's decided to forgo being the sweet little boy he used to be and has transformed into Mr. Whiny Pants.  In any event, he's amazing and I'm constantly amazed by the things he says.  Of course he's also still a typical little boy who loves anything that has wheels.


Here's what he told me a few months ago when he came into our bedroom one morning and hopped up onto the bed: 


Bear: Daddy, I love everything in the whole world.


Me: [smiles]


Bear (after a pause suddenly adds): And monster trucks. 


Me: Why do you like monster trucks so much?


Bear (with appropriate hand signs): Because they can crush things like buildings, signs . . . and empty bottles.


Evidently monster trucks are defeated by full bottles.


The Bean: (a.k.a. - Mr. B and The Baby Who Wants to Cry Every Night at Midnight).  The Bean is a whopping two months old as of this post.  We had been so lucky with the Bear that we knew if we ever had a second kid he would probably be completely different and be a terror.  For the most part that hasn't happened so far (knock on wood) but there's still time.  Though he's definitely different in a lot of ways already.  One of the main ways is that he simply doesn't listen to his father.*


For instance, when the Bear was little I made a deal with him that if he didn't pee on me, when he got older I would take him out to whatever restaurant he wanted.  Scoff if you'd like but he never peed on me once.**  When the Bean came along I made the same deal with him.  He promptly peed on me.  In fact he's done it five times at this point.  On the last occasion I took his diaper off to change him and he kicked his digestive system into high and stuff began coming out of both sides.  I put the diaper back on but not before he'd gotten pee all over everything, including me.  Once he'd finished, I attempted to give him a stern talking to while I cleaned him up.  He then smiled up at me with a beatific (albeit toothless) smile that was so cute I instantly forgave him.  He then peed on me again.


Pook: A++
Bear: A++
Bean: A++


* - Yes I know he's only 2 months old but that doesn't change things.
** - Okay technically he did twice, but once he was actually shooting at his mother and she dodge out of the way and the other time was a rebound shot off the tub wall.  So I don't hold either against him.

Late Night Feedings

Late Night Feedings: Give up large chunks of your sleep for the next several weeks (if not months) to get up and feed your newborn?  To be honest, not something I was looking forward to. Well, if you've never done this before (or perhaps its been a few years and you've forgotten) here are a few different things you can expect to experience.  In the beginning, you never actually get to sleep.  Instead you lie just on the edge of wakefulness waiting for the cries to come through the monitor.*  When they do come and you go to the baby's room you can never be sure what exactly will be waiting for you.  Here are few options:

- A hungry baby, who eats and then goes back to sleep.**
- An upset baby because his hand or foot has come unswaddled
- An upset baby because he is completely swaddled
- A tired baby that is so tired it can't get to sleep.***
- A hungry and tired baby.  One that is so hungry it can't sleep for the hunger pains, but at the same time is so tired it can't stay awake to actually drink its bottle.****
- A completely wide awake baby who is looking for entertainment

This list is obviously incomplete.  But the best part is that the Bean is only five days old and this list is compiled from the things that happened on just the first night home.  Here are a few of the other options I'm really looking forward too:

- Poop Everywhere!
- You stumble into the room to find the baby is asleep.  You stumble back to bed and as soon as your head hits the pillow he starts crying again.
- A hungry baby, only you forgot to make enough bottles to last the night.
- A sick baby
- A baby that won't stop crying for no reason at all!

Lest I have scared off some of you from attempting the joys of parenthood later in life, let me finish with this. After you've finished feeding, changing, reswaddling, whatever the baby and you're sitting there in the dark, half awake, with their little head leaning against your shoulder, while you listen to the soft sound of their breathing, all the rest of it doesn't matter.

Besides, sleep is for losers.

Late Night Feedings: B-

* - Later it gets to the point where you never actually wake up and you zombie stumble around in the dark.  I'm honestly not sure which is worse.
** - Pray for this one
*** - I know, sounds like an impossibility.  It makes even less sense at 2 A.M.
**** - When you get in this situation, just give up

Delivery (and the things that go with it)

Delivery (and the things that go with it): No, we're not talking about when somebody brings food to your house.  This is the other kind of delivery.  Friday night, after all of our friends had come over to hang out, our second son decided to show up two days early.  So, I spent Friday night/Saturday morning at Kennestone Hospital.  The Pook showed that her previous performance as an Olympic Class baby birther was not a fluke and gave a repeat performance of equal (if not better) caliber.  Just like last time, I had ringside seats.  And having watched this twice, I can honestly say that I have no idea how we have survived as a race.  Pook wisely opted for the "Every drug you can give me" plan, so I can't really comment on observable pain levels.  But the pain she had before all of the pharmaceuticals kicked in leaves me with no doubt that there is only one word to describe the people who do it without drugs: "stupid".  I know, people say that they want to experience it the "natural way" or some such hogwash.  Well the next time you go in to the dentist to get a filling, why not get that done the "natural way" as well?*  Yeah, I thought not.  Plenty of people in the past have commented on the actual birth.  Words like watermelon and nostril usually get used.  So, I'll not go into that, other than to say, "Forget about it."  That some people do this multiple times means they are either mentally challenged or superhuman.**  Then there is the stuff that follows the baby.  Literally.  Ewww.  And to think, some people choose to deliver at home!  I don't think that they make Hefty bags for that, but good luck.

The Delivery Process: C-
The People Who Deliver: A+

* - Disclaimer, I stole this from the Pook.
** - My mom and sister both had four kids.  Woofah!