New Wipes

So we're testing these new baby wipes my wife made with coffee filters. No, we don't drink coffee, but the filters are cheap and great for covering food in the microwave, using to put snacks in for the kids, and a variety of other things... but I digress.

The "wipes" are hard to separate and smear around poop more than wipe it off the rear of a squirming child.  Oh, and the poop smell leaks straight through them onto your hand. Come to think of it, isn't that pretty much what the filters were designed for, letting liquid through?.  How do I know the smell makes it through?  Let me just say this:  Distilled poop juice on your fingers will not wash off with the first scrubbing.  If you were unfortunate enough to assume it would, just don't pick your nose anytime soon

Let me paint you a mental picture

I’m sitting next to a Squdge, feeding the hungry 5-month-old a bottle. I look down at his smiling face as he gurgles a happy “thank you” and smile a “you’re welcome” his direction. One of the other children asks me a question so I turn and talk to them for a moment. I look back down at Squdge and notice something that wasn’t there before – something on the bottle. It’s on the ring right next to the nipple, right next to my infant’s mouth. Wait a second, did it just MOVE?!

…time to perform an immediate close-up inspection…

Foreign object identified.

My exact words, “Are you kidding me?! There is a slug on my baby’s bottle! Right next to his mouth!”

In my house. It wasn’t there five seconds ago. What is this, the Twilight Zone?

Dignity Lost

I have puke in my ear. I’m not proud of it. As a matter of fact, I wasn’t even aware of it until a few minutes ago. Granted, I have two newborns and messes are to be expected. And yes, I knew my shirt was covered in multiple puke spots of varying wetness from crusty dry whitish ones to dark sopping squishy ones. Yes I had felt the unnerving warmth creep down onto my lap several times immediately following the sloshy verping sounds; and yes, I knew I downright stank of puke. But, I was hoping to maintain some small shred of dignity – an unsoiled bit of me that I could use to moor myself to the glorious illusion that I am yet the master of my own universe. However those hopes and dreams were forever crushed (again) when I found puke in my ear. Oh the indignity. Oh the horror. I’m melting. I’m melting. What a world. What a world. Puddle. Anyone need some ruby slippers?

By the way, did I mention that I am tired and delusional, or did you figure that out on your own?

Sports for Infants

Move over Michael Vick! Dog fighting is out – infant fighting is the new rave. Underground fight clubs and tournaments are popping up all around the globe as this controversial sport starts to take hold in the hearts and minds of parents everywhere.



Speaking on the condition of anonymity, one infant fighter’s manager/mother maintained that she wouldn’t have even considered going through childbirth except to bring a new competitor to the ring. “It made all the pain worthwhile,” she said.

For those of you considering training your offspring for competition, child martial arts experts recommend starting as early as possible. Sebastian “Angry Eyes” Zen, a martial arts trainer from Ittoqqortoormiit, Greenland advises that some styles are better suited for small children. In an exclusive interview he told us, “Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu, for example, is a martial art and combat sport that focuses on grappling but especially ground fighting. Thus it is perfect for infants who are incapable of lifting themselves to a sitting or standing position anyway.”

For more information on the subject of infant fighting, look for a copy of Sevastian Zen’s highly anticipated new book, Diapers and Fists – Lightning Fast Metabolisms and Moves. $49.86 in stores everywhere where stores sell it.

Baby Pic

Here's a picture of the latest addition to my family -- twin boys. I know that I am not in the least bit biased when I say they are the cutest twins there ever were...

An Equation

The Rest of the Story...

If you haven’t already, please read Nikki’s account of the birth at her blog.

Below are some perspectives I have on the event.

The anesthesiologist was pumping all sorts of things into my wife always a few minutes too late and without ever saying a word about what he was doing. Not wanting to upset my wife any further, I quietly prodded him with quizzical glances and whispered questions until I was getting ready to jab him with one of his own needles until he started talking. The man was a mute octopus. Hands on syringes, computers, IV’s, drawers, little glass bottles, and not a sound to anyone even when the doctor pried him for an answer. All the while my wife was crying out in pain. Sadist.

Nikki didn’t want me to watch, but I couldn’t help myself after they had opened the uterus. I got just a little concerned when one of the doctors asked for a stepstool and used it to get positioned above Nikki high enough to do CPR-like belly-compressions while another doctor tugged on her insides. Of course I just smiled for Nikki.

We had wondered whether the twins would be fraternal or identical, so I wasn’t too surprised when as soon as the doctor pulled the second squirming infant from the uterus, Nikki asked me, “Are they identical?” Nodding and smiling like a good husband who has been pinning his wife’s arm down throughout the ordeal and does not want his hand crushed more than it already was, I responded, “If you mean are they both purple and slimy, then yes – they are identical.”

After stitching closed the uterus, the doctors started moving guts around and looking at everything to make sure it was all good (and I’m pretty sure they were also trying to make sure they hadn’t left a sponge, clamp, glove, or baby inside). During this time they pulled out a large pinkish blob with large almost translucent bubbles covering it. Now I am not a doctor, nor have I had any medical training beyond basic first aid and CPR, but thought I should have been able to roughly identify most internal organs. I had no idea what this was. I asked the doctor. “That’s an ovary,” she replied.

“Huh,” I said, “I always thought they were smaller.”

“They usually are. Normally they are about the size of walnuts. This is one of… well, this is the largest one I have ever seen.”

At this point she produced the second one which looked just as bulbous. Um, okay. So… whattheheck?! I thought. You are handling an alien blob about the size of a small cantaloupe with pinkish boils all over it and telling me it belongs inside my wife but should be about the size of a walnut. Whattheheck?! What I said: “So…”

“These seem overly excited by all the hormones.”

Uh doc, I understand it’s a reproductive organ, but it’s not THAT one. Care to explain further? “So, what now?” I questioned (I was full of intelligent comments on this topic).

“They will probably go back to their normal size eventually.” With that they cauterized one they had nicked and stuffed them back inside.

Oh that’s comforting. I’m definitely telling Nikki about this after they staple her shut… and she wakes up.