Where does he put it?

So I admit that I maybe a little naive when it comes to parenthood and like the pirate walking off the plank, I desperately hold on to the hope that maybe, just maybe, if I try very hard, I will be able to bend his will to my bidding so that I can get out of this precarious situation. Sadly, like the pirate, I eventually have to walk the plank and slam into the ocean of reality....(sigh)...So that begs the question, how much can a 10 week old baby eat? Apparently, as much as he wants for as long as he wants. Speaking solely from my experience of feeding Grant in the evenings, he can very easily run a marathon for about 2-3 hours and just not want sleep or be put down. Obviously, this puts a serious damper on my ability to have any kind of conversation with Leah, watch Law & Order or eat a meal sitting down.

But with cuteness like this, I can easily skip television (L&O forgive me!) and eating sitting down. It would be nice to have a conversation with my wife sitting down at a reasonable time of evening. Oh well, another day, another chance to try doing that. (I Love You Leah!)

P.S. To all my readers, yes, I am a complete unadulterated romantic.

Bouncy Seat of Forgiveness

While we were "expecting" G's appearance into our lives, there were many things that we knew that we would need and want. The car seat to take him home from the hospital, a glider chair for feeding and for those long nights where he just wants to be held, diapers (lots and lots of diapers) and a cornucopia of other items.

The one item that I never knew we would love so much was the Fisher Price, Jungle Theme Bouncy Seat, or as we call it our house, the "BOUNCY SEAT OF FORGIVENESS". Forgiver of all sins real and imagined, soother of all errors in judgement and timing and all of those just plain stupid things that his parents in training may do. Yes, this gift brought to us by Steve H. is prized by Mommy and Daddy so much, that if something where to happen to the Bouncy Seat of Forgiveness, Daddy would venture out into the city no mater what time of day or night and go to any lengths to get a new one, even going to Wal-mart (for those of you who know me, that's an amazing thing)!

Oh, yes they call him the streak....

Oh, yes, they call him the streak, look at that, look at that....

For those of you who are in shock right now, this post is not about our son but rather is a random post about things that I am now paying attention to now that I have a little one of my own. A little one, who just might do something like this in the near future.

My YMCA is a lovely two story building in the heart of the Galleria that overlooks a swimming pool, a baseball field and a school with real trees which for H-town is a vertual National Forest! So, I enjoy taking a break from work and going to the Y to get on a treadmill and do my hamster imitation which is running as fast as I can as long as I can and go absolutely no where. Kind of an analogy for life, don't you think? But that's another story.

While running today, out of the corner of my eye, I saw a blinding streak of pale flesh run across the concrete by the pool, quickly followed by a larger, long haired blurr. After I was able to focus on said blurr, which, running like a hamster is very difficult to do, I realized that it was a butt naked little boy streaking the swimming pool with his mother in hot pursuit.

I found this amazingly funny and hope that all my friends and family will kindly remind me of this when G. goes streaking across the lawn, swimming pool or where ever once he realizes he can get out of his clothes all by himself....

Ah, the joys of fatherhood!

Choices

The following was the e-mail that convinced me to chronicle our lives in a blog rather than in random e-mails to friends and family.

Do you remember the last time that you made a choice that seemed inconsequential maybe even meaningless? Do you remember when you thought you were making a choice to be helpful to someone else and in reality the one you were helping was you? That if you had known of what would happen next, you would be considered selfish and self centered but instead, since you had no possible way of knowing what the future was, you were just plain lucky?

This the subject of today's post...

Leah and I have three cats, Rocky, Peanut and Christmas. Three cats who have been getting the short end of the stick when it comes to attention these past few weeks now that we have a little one (i.e. Grant) in the house. So little has been the attention that we have been giving them as of late that their litter boxes have been, how should we say, well used. Yes, we shall call their letter boxes well used, so well used that I am surprised that they have not learned how to operate the toilets.

Because of the freshness of the laundry room today, I took it upon myself to clean out the litter boxes. This meant carrying 50 pounds of cat litter up the stairs, cleaning out the three litter boxes (1 per cat) and then carrying three trash bags full of dirty cat litter out to the dumpster.

During the middle of cleaning them out, I was over come by a toxic wave flowing into the laundry room from the nursery, so toxic was this stench that I looked in to see if my poor wife was OK. When i looked in, I saw my wife on the verge of retching and Grant looking particularly pleased to finally have whatever was inside of him, on the outside. While I contemplated calling OSHA or maybe a local HASMAT team, I thought, no, my wife is perfectly capable of dealing with this and I went back to cleaning out my nice fresh smelling litter boxes.

Sadly, the diaper changing did eventually result in Grant's outfit, the changing pads and the rug on the floor beneath the changing pad needing to go into the washing machine.

The moral of this story is that 50 pounds of dirty cat litter is far better than 5 ounces of Grant's diapers...

Just something I thought I should share.

Three plus Three in Texas...
Three is for me, my wife and our son (John, Leah and Grant)
plus Three is for our three cats, Rocky, Peanut and Christmas
in Texas is where we live...

And if my wife has anything to say about it, where we will stay, secretly, I would like to move to Denver but that's another story...