Happy 4th of July!

I can't believe it's been over a month since I posted anything. I told myself that if I didn't have time to keep current on the stack of bills on my desk, I certainly didn't have time to blog. I don't think I actually got behind on the bills and stuff, but it was all I could do to get everything paid on time, including occasional online payments the day things were due. But I finally got ahead of the critical things and I have a few minutes. Ever since Baby D's arrival, most waking moments have either involved working or taking care of one or both kids. I've been able to watch movies and more TV than I've watched in a year, but only while holding an irritated or sleeping baby. Doing anything involving hands or a brain hasn't been much of an option. But we're getting better at it, so maybe this blog won't die after all.

In the time since I've last posted, I've missed (blog-wise anyway) a bunch of stuff. There were several birthdays, including Franny's and the Mizz's and the actual births of two new nieces. Baby D has started to smile and laugh at me all the time. My boss got back from a 6 week vacation beyond phone-reach. Both the Mizz and D have done numerous funny and/or impressive things. There was Mother's Day, during which my mother was visiting, and Father's Day, during which my father was visiting. The Democrats finally chose which history-making presidential candidate they are going to field. And gobs of other stuff that's escaping my mind at the moment.

Anyway, while the rest of the country is outside blowing their fingers off, I have a little time to myself. The Mizz and I left Franny and D at a 4th of July cookout so the Mizz could get to bed. the Mizz had a big day today (Thomas) and a little nap in the car on the way home, so he wasn't up to partying all night. So it's just me and the internet and a bunch of explosions outside my window. Happy 4th.

Check out my excuse for not blogging!

OK. I admit that a month is a long time to go without posting, but you have to admit, this isn't too bad an excuse. Welcome Baby D, as of 5/8. Incidentally, that's my old hat he's wearing, from 1970-something. It's a tad small now.

The new guy is pretty awesome. Aside from an early bout of not getting bigger fast enough, he's doing really well. He's pretty easygoing most of the time. He doesn't need to be swaddled much to sleep, and most of his wide-awake times are during the daytime. Feeding is not going as smooth as it should, but he gets away with it by being crazy cute. The Mizz thinks he's awesome, and does not appear to be blaming him for the fact that his world has been rocked. Mizz is always wanting to hug him and look at him and make sure that the light over his bed is turned off so he can sleep. That last one is a really big deal, as the Mizz does not turn off lights without a really good reason.

I've been staying at home whenever the Mizz doesn't have daycare, but that's about to change tomorrow. It'll be Franny's first time dealing with both boys by herself, which will likely be interesting, to say the least. I won't be far away at least, for all that's worth.

There have been all sorts of things I kept thinking I should be posting, but time has usually been monopolized by one or both boys, sleeping, and, when possible, getting other things done that really need to get done, like pay bill and make sure the house doesn't come falling down around us. I even had to pay someone to do a crappy job mowing my lawn yesterday. It had been maybe 4 weeks and looked like an abandoned lot. It pains me to pay anyone to do something I think I should do myself, and especially mowing the lawn, which I don't even mind that much, but it wasn't getting done and it was the only sunny day for a while, so I suppose I'll live.

I can tell by my conversations with everyone that I have a new kid. Not the obvious, "How's the new baby?", or "Do you have any pictures?" Those are expected. I'm talking about discussing cervices and nipple pain with my sisters. I'm talking about strangers asking about water breaking and stitches. I mean, if I haven't offered you details about my wife's intimate parts, you probably don't deserve them. Seriously, the women are the worst. They figure new Dad is totally ready, not only to discuss his wife's private issues, but to hear about their recollections of their kids' births and breastfeeding issues from years ago. I'm having to picture things about my coworkers and customers that are definitely not part of my job description.

Other than the new guy and family issues, I'm pretty disconnected from the world these days. I'm aware that Oregon overwhelmingly voted for Obama, although, since I'm not a registered Democrat, nobody asked me. It's sort of amusing that we got so much attention. Usually, Oregon doesn't figure much in national politics, and after last Tuesday, will probably go back to being ignored. It's odd this year. The candidates are now having to pretend that they give a hoot about issues in Guam and Puerto Rico. Resources and effort well spent, I'm sure.

Speaking of resources, we got our economic stimulus payment, $1,500 from Uncle Sam. "Economic stimulus payment" is a much more palatable term than "throwing money at the problem," or "election-year patronization." Seriously, this it the best way the might of the federal government could be used to help the economy???

Of course, gas prices are going up. And food prices. And the sting at the pump. And the rising cost of food. And GAS! And FOOD! In case you hadn't noticed the price of gas and food rising, the local news shows are careful to work it into every story to remind you that gas and food are getting more expensive. Thanks, news media. You're a big help.

The three day weekend all looks the same to me right now, but I am also aware that it's Memorial Day weekend. I'd like to take a moment to remember the servicemen killed in the line of duty whom we are supposed to be memorializing. However, based on the TV, I think I'm just supposed to take that stimulus money and buy a new mattress. Or maybe fill up my gas tank.

Enough with the rambling. It's time to get back to my duty, which mainly consists of washing dishes and pump parts and bottles and such. See you again, in another month. (Sooner, I hope.)

This baby better come soon (but not TOO soon, of course)

You may have noticed a dry spell on TBHNP lately. That's because we've been nesting our butts off and I haven't had much time to keep current on email, much less contribute to the world outside my house.

Thanks mainly to the frantic hormonal nesting urges of pregnant ladies (I'm not naming names), we've been doing a lot around the house. Some of it was quite necessary, such as finding a place for this new baby to sleep, and cleaning and whatnot. That seems important. The rest was probably not bad stuff, but might not have been as critical. Not critical, but who am I kidding? If it didn't happen now, it certainly wasn't going to happen a couple months down the road. The other stuff has mainly consisted of rearranging things, getting rid of things, and then turning around and buying more things, all at a pace we've never managed before, even when moving.

The rearranging seems pretty straight forward, or should have anyway. We have a three bedroom house, with one room previously being an office/den/guestroom. We toyed around with giving each of the boys his own room and doing something else for an office. Then I took a look at our house and reality sunk in. The best I might be able to do is shoehorn something into the garage, but realistically, that ain't gonna happen. So we settled on putting the boys together in the mid-size room and taking the small one (which was the Mizz's) and making it into a rather cramped office and guest room. Needless to say, the night before some friends were coming to help move furniture, we decided to leave the Mizz alone for the time being since he has seemed somewhat stressed with all that is happening. The current office would become part office/part nursery. The baby will probably sleep in our room in a new bassinet for the time being. We'll revisit the move again in a few months when the baby is ready to move out of our room, or when we want him out, whichever comes first.

The office/nursery is no longer the comforting warm orange it used to be (officially, "terra cotta." I loved it.). It is now a stark white/vanilla/whatever and has baby animals and blocks stuck on the wall. Stark is a little rough, I guess, but it's definitely not orange. Incidentally, this is the first time I've paid someone else to paint my house. It's a weird feeling to me to give someone money to do what I feel I should be able to handle. However, I have to admit that they did in a day what would have probably taken a week. Plus, I hate painting edges.

We also attempted to rearrange the bookshelves around our house, which involved the moving a bookshelf downstairs to replace a baker's rack, which took up temporary residence on the front porch. We both agreed that the book shelf was a little large and oppressive and decided to put the baker's rack back and use the shelf in place of a darker, uglier one. Of course, as soon as the baker's rack was back in place, and the bookshelf was back upstairs and full of books, Miss Prego looks at the rack and says, "I don't know. Doesn't it look too...wiry?" I don't care. It stays.

We've gotten rid of massive amounts of stuff during all this. I've been pretty impressed with us actually.

The reason we even had a bookshelf to worry about is that we got rid of enough books to fill one. That came to six shopping bags and a box. I took these to Powell's Books to see what they might offer me. They gave me $40 for a couple dozen of them. The rest went into a donation/recycling bin, which I assume is the equivalent of sending mangy strays to the humane society. I want to imagine that they went immediately to poor orphans who yearned for Dave Barry's humor and old social work textbooks, but realistically, they'll probably just be next weeks newspaper or Kleenex or whatever. The really depressing thing is that conservatively guessing, they probably cost us a couple grand to purchase over the years.

We've had pretty good luck with Craigslist and Freecycle. We've sold the stuff that we could and been able to give away a bunch of other stuff. Freecycle, especially, has been interesting. In our effort to pare things down, we put our CD's in a couple books and had several shopping bags of empty cases, which someone found useful. We gave away a bunch of old cassettes. We were happy that they ended up going to a guy whose daughter has down's syndrome and has hands that are too small to handle CD's, but who loves music. The most interesting giveaway was the vertical blind hardware. We found that the easiest and cheapest way to replace the vertical vanes that Mizz had damaged on our blinds was to buy a whole new set. I just replaced the vanes, and as such, had a brand new rail and hardware and whatnot that I felt guilty throwing away. We posted it, and in no time, a guys who needed just that found us. Cool system.

We've also become very familiar with Goodwill and Value Village for the stuff that might have value, but which is better for us as a tax break than as a sale. We figured out a while back that, if you keep your donation receipts, the tax benefit at the end of the year is about a wash with what you could get at a yard sale for most things. Plus you don't have to sit around haggling with old ladies over 25 cent t-shirts.

In the midst of our getting-rid-of binge, we've also acquired a few things. There's a bassinet waiting for the new kid. We had to take away the Mizz's bed, since it is actually a convertible crib, and will be needed again before too long. We didn't want to snatch it away from him and give it the the baby right away. So, thanks to Craigslist, he now has a Thomas the train engine bed that he just loves. And thanks to the fact that we have another mattress, we sold the one that came with the bed for almost as much as we bought the whole thing for. Go us. We've also acquired a new (old) filing cabinet and a new dresser. Craigslist has been good.

Anyway, after all this, we're more or less ready for the new kid to arrive. The rooms are almost as set up as they're going to be. We have all the furniture we're going to get. We've moved most of the things that are going to be moved. We've gotten rid of most of the things that are going. Now, our main concern is making sure the Mizz is taken care of when the time comes and trying to enjoy some time together while we can still squeeze it in. And maybe work in some blogging.

Passed out!

The Mizz finally learned to get up and turn on the light to play instead of crying in the morning. He did so at 11:30 last night. I snapped this when I went in to empty the toys out of his new Thomas bed.

Polite Mizzings from a Tired Observer

I'm not one to pretend that most anyone else cares what my kid says or that other kids don't say things just as cute. That's why I don't spend much time touting the fact that the Mizz says the darnedest things. However, the Mizz does sometimes say things that amuse me as he's getting a grip on language and numbers and the world and such. My wonderful wife thinks I should record them from time to time, and this seems as good a place as any to do it.

One thing that's fun to watch is the development of numbers and math. The Mizz counts quite well up to about 15 these days, and can do simple adding and subtracting in his head up to about 5 or 6, which seems pretty cool to me. However, his grasp of what these numbers actually mean is interesting. He knows that he is 2. He's also pretty sure the Daddy is 3 and my old lady really is old at 4. Up until recently, 3 or 4 has stood in to mean "a lot." That's changing, though, as he's becoming more interested in larger numbers. He knows about 20 and 3o and on up, but he can't count to them and they don't seem to have any value to him except as new values for "a lot." He really got me the other day though when he was standing on the scale. He knows that he is about 20. 20 what, he has no idea, but it's 20. (He's actually about 30 lbs. these days, but he's usually hanging on the counter.) I asked him how much Daddy weighed, and he decided that I must be "ten-ty." I suppose I should be offended, as I can only assume ten-ty means the same thing to him as a gazillion.

One of my favorite Mizzizms so far came at a playground. We were working on taking a big step to get over a drainage ditch in the pavement. He looks down with a "What's dat?"

"That's a ditch, buddy."

"A bitch!"

"No, a ditch, with a D."

"Bitch, with a D."

"Not quite, buddy. Ditch, like Daddy."

"Bitch, like Daddy."

"Um, yeah. Something like that. Let's go follow that yellow line over there..."

True Portland Kid

Sitting down for dinner, I grabbed one of my favorite beverages, the wonderful juice of the barley. Thanks to fatherhood, that happens far too rarely these days, so I enjoy one when I can. Anyway, the Mizz sees the bottle and pipes in with, "Daddy sing the beer song???" Apparently I quote Homer Simpson more frequently than Julie Andrews.

In case you're unfamiliar, here is the beer song. I can't vouch for the exact right words, but this is the version that the Mizz hears.

Dough, the stuff that buys me beer,
Ray, the guys who sells me beer,
Me, the guy who drinks the beer,
Far, a long way from my beer,
So, I'll have another beer,
La, la la la la la beer,
Tea, no thanks, I'll have a beer,
And that brings us back to, DOH!

Travelling again, but this time for fun

Last weekend, we wandered up to see my folks on Whidby Island along with my sisters' families for a reunion of sorts before all the new kids show up. The house is nice, but it was only barely able to contain everybody, as there were 15 of us -- 7 kids, 3 pregnant women, my mother, and a bunch of guys doing their best to keep up/tolerate the pregnant lady talk. None of us are new to it or bothered by it any more, but get real, it's not about us right now. Nobody cared how my boobs were doing or how my heartburn was going.

It was a lot of fun though, and the Mizz had a great time with his cousins, especially "Baby J", who lives in Seattle and will probably be "Baby" forever according to my son. Both of them are, for the moment, single children, and are not near as good at playing with others as the 5 from the Colorado household. Imagine our surprise when they turned out to have a great time together, pushing cars back and forth and just generally copying and following each other all over the place. It looks like they're going to be excellent big brothers.

This was probably our best road trip with the Mizz yet. He's finally getting to the point of being able to be entertained in the car for long stretches. He even watched the DVD player that Franny found on sale. Usually, shows don't interest him for very long. This was a pretty easy trip. Soooooo, I guess it's time for another one.

It was good to see everyone and it was good to do it before things get even crazier. Next time there'll be 10 grandkids running around. Based on the current crew, that should be even more fun.

This dolphin is awesome

This story is just awesome.

Two whales had stranded themselves behind a sandbar along a beach in New Zealand. They repeatedly tried to get over it, but the tide was going out and they were getting ever more distressed and exhausted. It looked bleak enough that conservation authorities were considering euthanasia. Beached whale usually suffocate under their own weight if they're out of the water for very long.

Along comes a white knight, or in this case, a dolphin. It somehow managed to communicate with the whales and got them to follow it down the beach a ways to an opening in the sandbar and back out to sea.

The whales are apparently safe, as there has been no further sign of them. The dolphin was already a popular sight at the beach since he has a history of playing with swimmers, but he's now a hero to boot.

Poor Risk/Benefit Analysis

$1,000 an hour? Seriously??? Actual total cost so far: ~$80,000 plus one rising political career. Still to be counted: legal fees, one wife (I assume), likely fines, and possible jail time. She's attractive, I suppose. Unless I'm missing something though, I guess I'm just not macho enough to think that sounds like good financial decision making.

Way to go Spitzer. I guess they just do scandals bigger in New York than we do out here in Oregon. Our best stuff seems to be garden variety "fact-finding" trips to Hawaii and the like. There was a state representative that was caught with meth after getting in a fight with her ex's new girlfriend or something like that, but I'm pretty sure nobody outside Oregon cared.

What really gets me about this guy is that he spent 8 years as attorney general of New York catching criminals and corrupt politicians using exactly the kind of financial techniques that nabbed him. She must have really been something.

If nothing else, I guess this gives the media something to get excited about besides pretening to care what voters think in otherwise politically irrelevant parts of the country.

(BTW, I can't really vouch for the accuracy of the picture. Yahoo news says it's the right person, but they lifted the picture from MySpace, so who knows?)

Toddler Manifesto

Franny e-mailed this to me. It came via an e-mail, via an e-mail, via an e-mail, etc., so I don't know where it actually came from. As Franny put it, the Mizz scored a 95, which is an A in anyone's book, but it looks like he still has at least a little bit of trouble to learn how to cause.

If it is on, I must turn it off.
If it is off, I must turn it on.
If it is folded, I must unfold it.
If it is a liquid, it must be shaken, then spilled.
If it a solid, it must be crumbled, chewed, or smeared.
If it is high, it must be reached.
If it is shelved, it must be unshelved.
If it is pointed, it must be run with at top speed.
If it has leaves, they must be picked.
If it is plugged, it must be unplugged.
If it is not trash, it must be thrown away.
If it is in the trash, it must be removed, inspected, and thrown on the
floor.
If it is closed, it must be opened.
If it does not open, it must be screamed at.
If it has drawers, they must be rifled.
If it is a pencil, it must write on the refrigerator, monitor, or
table.
If it is full, it will be more interesting emptied.
If it is empty, it will be more interesting full.
If it is a pile of dirt, it must be laid upon.
If it is stroller, it must under no circumstances be ridden in without
protest. It must be pushed by me instead.
If it has a flat surface, it must be banged upon.
If Mommy's hands are full, I must be carried.
If Mommy is in a hurry and wants to carry me, I must walk alone.
If it is paper, it must be torn.
If it has buttons, they must be pressed.
If the volume is low, it must go high.
If it is toilet paper, it must be unrolled on the floor.
If it is a drawer, it must be pulled upon.
If it is a toothbrush, it must be inserted into my mouth.
If it has a faucet, it must be turned on at full force.
If it is a phone, I must talk to it.
If it is a bug, it must be swallowed.
If it doesn't stay on my spoon, it must be dropped on the floor.
If it is not food, it must be tasted.
If it IS food, it must not be tasted.
If it is dry, it must be made wet with drool, milk, or toilet water.
If it is a carseat, it must be protested with arched back.
If it is Mommy, it must be hugged.
I am toddler!