So it has been brought to my attention that the frequency of my blogging has been poor. The good news is that your fearless leader has heard your cries (Kendall). Don't think of me as one not in touch with his people. As you wish (Princess Bride).
It's June Ramblings time.
I'll be the first to admit that sometimes I'm quite proud of myself after I really give the bathroom hell. I'm actually sometimes sad that I don't have anyone to talk to about it. Saying that, it seems like Rilyn is most proud of giving her diaper hell at the dinner table.
Even though you may have taken countless hours of birth classes, newborn classes, and the like, don't for one second believe that you, as a male, sans lactating breasts, know a darn thing about breastfeeding. If the time you decide to chime in with your pearls of wisdom is 3 in the morning after a frustrating night of no sleep, and your wisdom is delivered in what some may call a yell, you my friend, are a total moron.
New parents will inevitably tell you 2 things.
1) Their kid is cuter than any other kid.
2) Catch up on sleep pre-kid.
For the most part they are right (my kid really is cuter than yours), except for one thing. If you're lucky enough to have a kid whose favorite game is Whack A Daddy, and said game keeps you from sleep, I promise you that you won't be mad about it.
Anna has said some mighty nice things about me on this blog. Believe me, I'm grateful, but lets be honest. My contribution here has been minimal. The way I see it, if your hard work results in a breathing baby that is not possessed by the minions from the abyss, you might as well as call it a day.
I'm thinking that this kid has bought me a solid year of hall passes. Almost any tiff can be avoided by just making Rilyn smile at Anna. I'm not even kidding.
There has only been one exception to this rule. If your sentence starts with, "Hey, how do you feel about me heading down to Kendall's for the draft this weekend", you're probably going to have to coerce that baby into doing something better than smiling.
Bath time = So awesome
Giving Rilyn a bottle = Emotional crack
I completely understand how attached people get to their kids when they feed them. They look at you like you just ended the cold war without even firing a bullet (Rocky IV). I'm so addicted to it I try and get Anna out of the house just so I can give her a bottle.
Our freezer (stocked with precious B-Milk) went on the fritz resulting in having to dump around 40 ounces of milk because it had thawed. Anna was not happy. I was devastated.
I've also realized that the depths of how stubborn I am may be unknown to mankind. Case in point. I developed a position of holding a fussy baby that I've named The Human Swaddler. It was so darn effective when she was a baby (you know, for all 2 days she was an infant), but slowly has worn out it's usefulness.
I, as the all knowing patriarch refuse to let such an ingenious invention pass into disuse. Even though Rilyn decided, "You know what, I'm not a big fan of a position that resembles a WWF Sleeper Hold so much", I decided it wasn't actually the position, but the fact that Rilyn decided that it was time to break me.
Nope said myself to myself. TONIGHT, I will break her (and honestly, she does need to be broken, the kid demands things her way on her time). I then commenced with The Human Swaddler. I didn't even get mad in the slightest as she raged in my arms. On and on the epic struggle went. Rilyn trying to make me mad enough that I would be forced to put her down, Myself, spitting in the face of anger, relishing in the glory of The Human Swaddler.
I learned 2 things that night.
1) If you think you can break a 4 month old, you my friend, are a moron.
2) Anna is the boss, and broke me with a look.
This is what our garden looks like today (before weeding )
