Monday, March 29, 2010

Just when you have one figured out.

I swear, this just keeps getting better.  We had another doctors visit today.  This was the day we were to find out what sex the babies are.  And we did.  Jayna and I had discussed what the babies would be.  We were certain we would have one boy and one girl.  It was just that simple.  We picked out names, started planning the nursery and just waited for the confirmation.  Even the three year old is convinced at this point that we are having one of each.  She even named them.

Today was the day, we have finally accepted we are having twins.  Some of our swagger has returned, well, except for the mini van.  We stroll into the doctors office and they shuffle us in to the examining room rather quickly.  They are really on the ball today.  The nurse asks us if we’ve picked out names.  Well as a matter of fact, we have.  We made the mistake of telling the comedians at the doctors office the names that big sister came up with.  It’s now in the charts and forever immortalized.  Apparently those are some of the best kid names they have ever heard.

The doctor comes in and starts the ultrasound.  Goo on the belly and away we go. 

“Look, they’re still there.  They look like 14 week babies to me, let’s check out the business end.  Baby A is a boy.”

I don’t know how they tell anything on those screens.  He pointed at the business but it just looked like a smudge to me.  Anyway, that’s ok, we’re on track for the expected outcome. 

“Baby B is…..A boy.”

“Yes doctor, we know baby A is a boy.  What about Baby B?”

“Look, right there.  See that?”

“Um, no doctor, what am I looking at?”

“You’re looking at a boy.”

“That wasn’t in the plan doctor.  As a matter of fact, a lot of things you tell me aren’t in the plan.”

“Maybe you should stop making plans.”

So there it is, we’re having twin boys.  I am a little shaken.  I just figured out how girls work. 

“I’m very disappointed in you” just doesn’t work with boys. 

The three year old isn’t very pleased with this news.  We explained to her that both of the babies were boys.  She immediately asked where the doctor was.  We told her we would let him know she wants to have a word with him.  Jayna informed her that Cinderella wasn’t a very good name for a boy.  She said, “That’s ok.  One can be Shrek and the other Donkey.”

Here we go, off on yet another adventure.  Hey, at least there is one distinct perk to having twin boys.  I’m no longer out numbered.  Bwaaahahahahhaahaha…

Wednesday, March 24, 2010

NEVER Say Never!

This has been the mantra for my life recently.  I’m starting to think my mojo has run out and something is conspiring against me. 

We did it today.  We bought a mini van.  Jayna and I had been discussing this for about 3 months now.  You know, after the double your pleasure, double your fun announcement.  Jayna has always been reluctant to buy a mini van.  That’s probably not putting it exactly right.  I believe NEVER was the exact phrase she used on more than one occasion.  I have to say, I was pretty much the same way.  I had never understood what would posses anyone to want a min van.  I mean come on, they make SUV’s, why would you need a toaster on wheels?  I’ll tell you why.  Have you ever tried to load two baby carriers and a 3 year old into a SUV?  Yeah, they have 3rd rows, but you have to be a very talented clown to get into them and when you do you have about two and a half inches of leg room.  And storage, forget about it.  Have you ever looked behind the third row of a mini van? It’s cavernous.  Perfect for that freaking twins stroller we have.  That thing looks like a road train.  You could smuggle a whole family out of Haiti in that thing.   That doesn’t bode well for me when Jayna goes to the mall.  That’s another blog. 

We went to the car show last weekend to look at these swagger wagons.   We decided if it were going to have to happen, we liked the Honda Odyssey.  I did my due diligence and requested quotes from several dealers online.  I was pleasantly surprised by the online quotes I received, so we were off to the dealership after work.  We drug the 3 year old in to the dealership, thank goodness, they have toys.  You would think they have experienced people like us before.  As some of you may have seen on my Facebook post, we stood there for about 30 minutes before anyone said boo to us.  I take that back, I finally spotted some dude crossing the showroom floor picking his toofs with one of the floss/toothpick things.  “Hey, do you want to sell a car or not?”  That got their attention.

I asked the salesman a few questions I had and then announced we wanted a test drive.  He went outside to pull the particular one we were interested in around to the front.  A few minutes later he arrived.  There it was in all its swaggering goodness.  I told him I was just going to let Jayna go with him because she would be driving it most of the time. 

“OH, did you want me to go with you?” the salesman asked.

“Um, of course not, I’ll just go get the car seat.”

Now, I have had dealers just toss me the keys to a vehicle before, but never in Tulsa.  I thought that was a privilege reserved for small town dealers that probably knew you and every member of your family for 4 generations back.  Apparently I was wrong.  You can also enter the dealership looking at a mini van with a 3 year old in tow.  I am no longer viewed as a risk.  Little bit of mojo just died.

“Ok, well be back soon.”

I pull out of the parking lot and begin the test drive, Jayna is in the passenger seat and the 3 year old is in the back jabbering like a broken record.

“You know Jayna, this thing rides pretty nice.”

“Yes, I was just thinking that, DAMN!!!”

“Also, it has all the bells and whistles you want, more than your current car even”

“Shut up Michael”

We finish the test drive in silence.  We switch and let her drive back to the dealership.  She parks that thing the first time with no paint swapping incidents.  She certainly can’t do that with my truck, much less a SUV. 

“OK, go buy it.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

I’m sure you have all experienced what came next, the haggling, trade in stuff, blah blah blah.  A little while later, all parties involved were pleased with the deal, now we wait.  Sign the papers and we’re out the door. 

At this point it’s about 9:00 pm and the 3 year old is melting down.  First order of business, brush her teeth, put on pajamas and hit the sack.  That’s taken care of, now we get all of the crap from her old car transferred over, figure out how to get it in the garage and come inside.  I change into some pajama pants and realize I’m really hungry.  My 14 week pregnant wife hasn’t eaten anything since lunch and she’s looking like she might not make it.  A quick scan of the fridge reveals nothing of interest. 

“I’ll go get us something” as I grab my wallet. 

“You’re going to go get food in your pajama pants?”

“Jayna, we just bought a mini van.”

“Good point, I’ll take a sonic burger with cheese”

I walk out in to the garage climb in to the mini van and drive off in to the night.  Oh yeah.

Thursday, March 11, 2010

From the Mouths of Babes

This is a short one tonight.  Miss Thing did had a couple of episodes today that are worth noting. 

This morning, the child was a BEAR!!!!  She’s had a general attitude lately.  I guess it’s just the 3 year old phase but it’s really hard to maintain my cool on a regular basis.  This morning she threw her pajamas at me and threw a proper hissy fit.  Her mother stepped in and got her straightened out.  We typically make her apologize to whoever she has been a turd to, this morning was no different.  Her mother told her to apologize to me and she came over and gave me a hug and said she was sorry. I asked her if she meant that.  She calmly replied, “no” and walked away.

I had to leave the room.  I didn’t figure it would be good for her to see me laughing.

Fast forward through the day.

We came home this evening and we were getting ready for bed.  She was enjoying her bath as she normally does.  She seemed to be in a better mood and we were happy for that.  While I was letting her play in the tub for “just a minute” as she puts it, I glanced in the mirror.  I don’t know if there is just some good light in that bathroom or if I have just never paid attention, but I saw gray hairs.  Not just one or two…Oh no.  They were everywhere.  I confirmed with Jayna that my eyes weren’t deceiving me.  She chuckled.  I returned to the bathroom and continued inspecting my hair.  I told the daughter that she was giving me grey hairs.

She said “yeah, I’m giving you silly hair.” 

Jayna had to assure me that she thought salt and pepper was hot.  I’m not sure if she really means that or she was just stroking my bruised ego.

Sunday, March 7, 2010


We had a quiet moment this evening.  I don’t mean a peaceful moment to ourselves, or a pleasant evening out on the town.  It was one of those uncomfortable silences.  If you are a parent you know the type.  It hits you all the sudden.  A moment of panic and fear of the unknown.  It’s that silence that only can be produced by a nefarious little child.  There was a quick glance between Jayna and I and a simultaneous “what is she doing?”
I’m going to step back a few minutes.  This evening was a pleasant enough evening.  We finally got to spend some much needed time outside.  Fired up the Hasty Bake and cooked some steaks.  The windows to the house were open and all was right with the world.  We ate dinner and started getting ready for bed.  This is about a thirty minute to an hour long process at our house.  It never ceases to amaze me how a 3 year old can tear up a house like a F5 tornado.  It also amazes me that the destruction can occur at warp speed, but cleaning it up is like pulling teeth. 
So we send the 3 year old up stairs to begin the disaster recovery effort that is every evening for us.  For the most part, she can handle this on her own.  She is usually very proud of herself for doing such a good job and wants to show us her room and how clean it is.
This evening was a little different.  The rain pipe for the upstairs bathroom runs right down the wall in the living room.  I’m not sure exactly who thought this would be a good idea when they designed the house, but that’s the way it is.  A few minutes after heading upstairs, we hear a swoosh of water travel down the drain pipe.  This is no big deal.  As I’ve mentioned in the past, the 3 year old is pretty self sufficient in the bathroom arena.  About 30 seconds later we hear the all too familiar swoosh again.  This is where the terror began.  I should probably go check that out.
I went up the stairs and the daughter was innocently cleaning her toys up in her room.  She looked at me like, “what?”  I stroll in to the bathroom and I am immediately uncomfortable.  Have you ever been in one of those turnpike gas station bathrooms?  You know the ones that are dripping wet from floor to ceiling.  They have puddles in the floor, wet tissue stuck to the walls and your primary focus is to not touch anything.  Hell with washing your hands, you’ll get some sanitizer when you get out of there.  That’s kind of what our upstairs bathroom was like. 
There was water all over the toilet and puddles in the floor directly below it.
“Um, sweetie pie.”
“Yes daddy.”
“What did you do in the bathroom?”
“I cleaned the toilet daddy.”
“Um, sweetheart, what did you clean the toilet with?”
“A big paper towel daddy.”
I returned to the bathroom to investigate.  There was about half a roll of wet toilet paper in the trash can next to the toilet.  Back to the room.
“Um, where exactly did you get the water to clean the toilet?”
I probably shouldn’t have asked this question.  I knew the answer but didn’t want to hear it.  I could have lived my whole life without knowing for sure.
“From the toilet daddy.”
I think I just threw up a little.
“Come wash your hands right now.  And use soap.”
She looks at me like, “what is your problem, I just cleaned up the toilet.”
I cleaned up the puddles of water and started a bath.  There’s now way she is escaping a cleaning this evening.  We had a long talk about not putting our hands in the potty.  Only mommies and daddies clean the toilet.  I have always said I can’t wait until she is old enough to help with chores around the house.  Just fair warning, you should be careful what you wish for.

Saturday, March 6, 2010

We all have our days.

Going through this pregnancy with Jayna and seeing how she changes on a daily basis is a wild ride.  It amazes me how many little things that happen that I had forgotten from our first run through. 

My wife is a gorgeous, witty, strong and intelligent woman.  Typically if I am absolutely positive of something and she remembers it another way, odds are she is right.  I’ve learned this the hard way on multiple occasions.  She likes to remind me that I am four and a half years older than her when this happens.  Lately, the shoe has been somewhat on the other foot.  I remember vividly her mind went to mush when she was pregnant with our daughter.  The case is comically the same this time.

Jayna has started telling me stories multiple times.  With all the conviction as the first time she told it.  She’s even told me stories that I heard first person, at the same time she did.  I was standing right there.  Doesn’t matter, she tells them anyway.  And even with a snarky look on my face, it doesn’t seem to register with her that I’ve heard this until she is finished with the story.

Today at lunch the comedy of the situation was ratcheted up a little more.  The other night we had taco salad for dinner.  This is a quick and easy meal that we turn to on a regular basis.  It also reheats well so we can have leftovers for another meal later in the week.  That was the plan for lunch today.  Finish off the taco salad.  Jayna starts getting everything out of the fridge and goes to get the chips out of the “chip drawer.”  Does everyone have a “chip drawer”?  I’m thinking so, it’s a household requirement.  Sorry, I digress.  To her surprise, she found the bag of lettuce in the chip drawer.  I don’t know if you’ve ever seen lettuce that’s been in the chip drawer for about 3 days, but it isn’t pretty.  Needless to say, we had taco salad without the salad. 


Today was a hard day for me.  I took it hard anyway.  I was grumpy, snippy, hard to be around and just an all around grump.  The 3 year old whine monster was plucking my last nerve all day and I’m sure I was more cross with her than I should have been on several occasions.  Jayna went out with some girlfriends to dinner and a movie tonight so it was a daddy/daughter date for me.  We went to Freddies for a burger and PBCB concrete.  I decided I was going to be happy about it and have a good time.  It wasn’t fair for her to have to put up with me, she didn’t do anything but be a 3 year old.  But she tested me.  This is silly I’m sure, but I’m going to tell it anyway.

We arrived at the restaurant and ordered our meal.  We sat down and discussed the forthcoming meal and how we would get ice cream if we ate our whole dinner.  She seemed very content and was responding well to my newly forced attitude.  Maybe her obnoxiousness today was all me.  I know, deep.  I should probably know this stuff, being an adult and all.  Our number was called and I went to the counter to retrieve our meals.  She had to accompany me, I guess I can’t handle these things alone.  We returned to our seat and I cut up her chicken strips and we discussed how we would need to blow on them so we didn’t burn our mouth.  I take the first bit of my patty melt and low and behold, “daddy, I have to go potty.”  Seriously?  Sweetie, mom isn’t here, we can’t just leave our food here at the table and go to the bathroom, can you hold it until we are finished eating?  This was apparently the wrong thing to say because it triggered an all out kicking screaming fit.  I love it when she does this.  I really like it when everyone in the entire restaurant is staring at me like I’m some sort of child abuser.  You think that girl doesn’t know how to play a crowd, whatever. I said this was a little silly. But come on, anyone could do anything to our food.  Maybe I have an issue.  But now I have two issues, the fear of leaving our food at the table and a temper tantrum throwing three year old.  She won.  We went to the bathroom and everyone gave me the don’t worry, we understand look during my walk of shame.  They also seemed to tell me they would watch our table.  We returned and ate our meal while I tried not to think about it.  We had a nice frozen custard and everything was right in the world.

When we returned home, we started cleaning up our toys and getting ready for bed.  Needless to say, my conscience was getting the best of me.  I felt horrible for my smug attitude all day and thought I should talk to her about it.  I sat down in the floor and explained to her that I was in a bad mood today and it was no fault of hers.  I told her I was sorry for being angry today and I would try to do better tomorrow.  She gave me a huge hug and said,  “I’m glad you feel better now daddy.”  Ugh.  She didn’t even hit me and knocked the breath out of me.  How can a three year old child offer such unconditional love and understanding.  It wasn’t long ago that I thought only a dog could offer such unconditional acceptance.

We finished cleaning up and got ready for bed.  Before settling down for bed she announces she wants to “have a talk” in her playroom.  I go in and we sit down in the floor and she picks up her doodle pad pro.  She announces that she has to “write mom up” for not being here and we begin our discussion. 

“Daddy, I spy with my eye someone with an Eximo Joes shirt on.”

“Would that be me?”

“Yeah….with a big cheese ball grin.”

“Well, I spy a precious angel.”

Again, a big cheese ball grin and “daddy, that’s me.”

“Ok squirt off to bed.”