We're back...hopefully less grumbling and more rambling.
Moms are amazing.
Any guy you know who doesn't immediately love his mom 20 percent more after their first kid isn't chipping in enough with their own kid.
I had this dream one time that I would love to be a stay at home dad. That dream died about 6 seconds after my first diaper change and was only reinforced by last Tuesday. My BFF and I went to the Broncos game last Monday, and knowing that I wouldn't be home until after midnight, I thought I'd out-think the competition (life) and take Tuesday off and spend it with sugar lips.
This kid...turns out...is not a big fan of sitting still. I dumbly figured I'd get some decent napping in but was rudely interrupted by RGD's desire to put dog toys in her mouth, her efforts to climb out the window, and an experiment with the stairs. I always figured myself some sort of disciplinarian, but one frackin smirk from this little chunker makes me laugh, destroying my grand intentions of teaching her the word no.
I woke up Wednesday feeling like I just power squatted Drago (Rocky IV) five hundred times. My lack of napping left me flustered for the remainder of the week, and I had some weird hickey looking thing on my arm from when she latched onto my forearm after a moment of spaciness.
So yeah, although being a dad rocks, not sure I'm cut out for the stay at home dad thing.
Now...onto the ramblings.
One other person who is rocking my world these days. My sissy. Not only does she entertain her niece on Mondays (babysit), but without any effort at all, has been able to unintentionally boom roast me.
Somehow she's found a dude who is almost living the life I wish I was. Living in a townhouse in a neighborhood that frequently blots 911 with robberies, hi-jackings, and your everyday murder, I'm left without some chickens and the land they would necessitate.
Jay-son (seriously, Google Jimmy Kimmel and Matt Damon) seems to taunt me with pictures of the types of chickens he wants to procure.
All the time.
Now, there are discussions of a goat or two.
I've decided I'll just live through him, and help build his chicken coup. Maybe he'll also let me name a goat (Elway). The joke's on him though since I don't think sissy has explained that I don't like to get my hands dirty (saw dust = yuck).
I've also recently come into possession of a sweet window seat at work. After day 1 at my new desk, I'm feeling like the joke is on me. Being closer to the windows means I'm closer to the sun on the windows. Superman had kryptonite, Rocky had Clubber, and I have any upward movement of my body temperature.
Lastly, after much research, I've figured out why I'm poor. Every time any kind of money comes my way, my wife spends it.
Last year I pocketed a little money from fantasy football.
Yesterday, I sold an unused birthday present on Craigslist.
Anna must have been using the force on me since the only thing I have to show for these achievements is a breast pump and some cloth diapers.
And for real...lastly, with a warning.
Any sports haters. Quit here.
We had an awesome day at the Rockies game today, which occurred during the same time as the Broncos game. This was obviously a bit of an issue with Anna and I since she knows that on Broncos games I take my meals on the couch and prefer little (no) conversation.
Being the family man that I am, I sucked it up, went to the Rockies game, DVR'd the Broncos game, and told anyone within 10 feet of me that I wanted to know nothing until I got home to watch the game.
What happens? 5 minutes after we leave the Rockies game my mom (who I was at the Rockies game with) calls me trying to tell me what happened during the game. Luckily, I was able to fend the siege off with no real damage done.
2 hours after that, the bloody Broncos actually won. I wouldn't call the win devastating (that was reserved when the U.S.A. came back to beat Brazil), but for sure crushing. We're so dang bad, being horrible enough to land a sweet QB in the next draft is all I can hope for.
Because let's be honest. Tebow is only good at selling shirts.
Moms are amazing.
Any guy you know who doesn't immediately love his mom 20 percent more after their first kid isn't chipping in enough with their own kid.
I had this dream one time that I would love to be a stay at home dad. That dream died about 6 seconds after my first diaper change and was only reinforced by last Tuesday. My BFF and I went to the Broncos game last Monday, and knowing that I wouldn't be home until after midnight, I thought I'd out-think the competition (life) and take Tuesday off and spend it with sugar lips.
This kid...turns out...is not a big fan of sitting still. I dumbly figured I'd get some decent napping in but was rudely interrupted by RGD's desire to put dog toys in her mouth, her efforts to climb out the window, and an experiment with the stairs. I always figured myself some sort of disciplinarian, but one frackin smirk from this little chunker makes me laugh, destroying my grand intentions of teaching her the word no.
I woke up Wednesday feeling like I just power squatted Drago (Rocky IV) five hundred times. My lack of napping left me flustered for the remainder of the week, and I had some weird hickey looking thing on my arm from when she latched onto my forearm after a moment of spaciness.
So yeah, although being a dad rocks, not sure I'm cut out for the stay at home dad thing.
Now...onto the ramblings.
One other person who is rocking my world these days. My sissy. Not only does she entertain her niece on Mondays (babysit), but without any effort at all, has been able to unintentionally boom roast me.
Somehow she's found a dude who is almost living the life I wish I was. Living in a townhouse in a neighborhood that frequently blots 911 with robberies, hi-jackings, and your everyday murder, I'm left without some chickens and the land they would necessitate.
Jay-son (seriously, Google Jimmy Kimmel and Matt Damon) seems to taunt me with pictures of the types of chickens he wants to procure.
All the time.
Now, there are discussions of a goat or two.
I've decided I'll just live through him, and help build his chicken coup. Maybe he'll also let me name a goat (Elway). The joke's on him though since I don't think sissy has explained that I don't like to get my hands dirty (saw dust = yuck).
I've also recently come into possession of a sweet window seat at work. After day 1 at my new desk, I'm feeling like the joke is on me. Being closer to the windows means I'm closer to the sun on the windows. Superman had kryptonite, Rocky had Clubber, and I have any upward movement of my body temperature.
Lastly, after much research, I've figured out why I'm poor. Every time any kind of money comes my way, my wife spends it.
Last year I pocketed a little money from fantasy football.
Yesterday, I sold an unused birthday present on Craigslist.
Anna must have been using the force on me since the only thing I have to show for these achievements is a breast pump and some cloth diapers.
And for real...lastly, with a warning.
Any sports haters. Quit here.
We had an awesome day at the Rockies game today, which occurred during the same time as the Broncos game. This was obviously a bit of an issue with Anna and I since she knows that on Broncos games I take my meals on the couch and prefer little (no) conversation.
Being the family man that I am, I sucked it up, went to the Rockies game, DVR'd the Broncos game, and told anyone within 10 feet of me that I wanted to know nothing until I got home to watch the game.
What happens? 5 minutes after we leave the Rockies game my mom (who I was at the Rockies game with) calls me trying to tell me what happened during the game. Luckily, I was able to fend the siege off with no real damage done.
2 hours after that, the bloody Broncos actually won. I wouldn't call the win devastating (that was reserved when the U.S.A. came back to beat Brazil), but for sure crushing. We're so dang bad, being horrible enough to land a sweet QB in the next draft is all I can hope for.
Because let's be honest. Tebow is only good at selling shirts.
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