Saturday, July 16, 2011

James Worthy, Pain Free Tweezers & A Buncha Other Stuff


Don't bother me.  I'm thinking.
This one’s been brewing in the tyke’s brainpan for a few weeks now, and she would have gotten to writing/posting it sooner, but some unbelievably important and lengthy naps reared their ugly heads, causing gargantuan delays.  In her short, but highly productive life, the Kid has learned to embrace the commercialism of America with gusto (we were forced to take away all of her credit cards and ban her from watching QVC).  But, there have been several “baby” items that have come our way over the past seven weeks that we thought should be discussed.  The Kid was either gifted these items or we bought them for her ourselves (and in one case, the baby made the purchase).  These are actual things she uses on a daily basis.  May you who are future parents or current parents find this useful.  May you who have no kids find this unbelievably insightful and useful.  For our Amish readers… sorry, guys, you’re SOL (but still lovin’ the orange triangles!  Keep it real Pennsylvania Dutch, keep it real…).

1.  The Nuk Bottle Warmer -  Egads, we cannot stress the usefulness of this enough.  At first we were forced to warm the bottles in a pan of boiling water, which could often take waaaaaaay too long for lil Miss.  But the Nuk BW fancy-pants steam technology (Steam! Modern science, what will they invent next????) heats her bottles in 90 seconds.  Also excellent for Mommy and Daddy’s daily hot toddies and pore cleansing ritual.

2.  Let’s face it, few things can cause more discomfort and pain than a lullaby; but, they are a necessary evil.  Without them, few babies will be bored to sleep, and heaven knows how important it is to get these precious darlings as much shut-eye as possible.  For parents, it’s a damned if you do, damned if you don’t proposition.   On the one hand, if you don’t play a lullaby the kid may not sleep and you’ll want to kill yourself.  On the other hand, if you have to listen to “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star” again you WILL kill yourself.  Wouldn’t it be great if there were a lullaby album that turned some of your favorite seminal rock music into a peaceful ditty for your offspring????  Well, what song says “peaceful ditty” more aptly than U2’s “Sunday Bloody Sunday?”   Yes, now with the album “Rockabye Baby!  Lullaby Renditions of U2”, you can put the baby to sleep all the while singing “how long must we sing this song?” but have it mean something completely different than what you would normally mean while listening to a lullaby.

Another one of Dad guy's piss-poor swaddling jobs...
3. Prior to becoming a father, I was ignorant of the art of swaddling.  Basically, swaddling is like putting your baby in a straightjacket.  It’s an ancient practice and by Jove, me and the Missus would be lost without it.  Oh, you uneducated non-parent types may think, “How awful, you straightjacket your baby!”  Yeah, well let me tell ya something, they straightjacket the insane and if you’ve never seen an overly stimulated infant who is looooong overdue for his/her nap, then you’ve never seen an insane person.  We use the Bambino Land Muslin Organic blankets for our swaddling.  They’re lightweight, and perfect for the summer months.  I tell you this because I know you were sitting on the edge of your seats wondering.

4. The Jeep Universal Car Seat Carrier is da bomb! (Note: the Kid would like to point out just how white her dad is and apologize for it.)  This thing weighs like 2 ounces, pops open and closed at the touch of a button and, most importantly NO ASSEMBLY REQUIRED!  This stroller is perfect for younger babies.  You take your car seat and strap it onto the Jeep frame and Bam! you’re ready to go.  Universal for just about any car seat.  WARNING:  Like with any stroller, don’t let the baby take control of the wheel.  The Kid is a bit of a daredevil and a lead foot.  Any chance she gets, she’ll pop a wheelie and do donuts to impress the older kids at the park Also, if your baby is prone to road rage (she must’ve gotten THAT from her mother…), you may want to consider swaddling while in the car seat.

5.  Next, I was going to discuss the baby monitor she received as a gift from her great-aunt Kitty; but, unfortunately, there’s a bit of a legal issue on this one.  Seems the first time we used the monitor the Kid immediately cried foul regarding her right to privacy and immediately called the ACLU.  Pending a hearing, we are advised by our attorneys (Dewey, Cheatum and Feldstein – see what I did there?) not to make any further comments at this time. 

6.  The Kid poops a lot.  She needs diapers.  We prefer the Seventh Generation chlorine free ones.  We’re also transitioning to the G-Diaper cloth diaper system (Yeah, cloth.  Every day in the US alone, forty-two gazillion disposable diapers end up in land-fills.  Look it up.  Save the planet! ) Poop.  Diapers.   Let’s just be adults and move on.

7.  Not sure how to broach this next item.  I guess, I’ll take the band-aid approach and just pull quickly:  the Kid has uranium.  “Ha Ha Ha!  Oh, that’s rich, Daddy!  You’re seven-week-old daughter has uranium.  Ha ha.  Ha.  Ha.”  Yeah… so one more time, let me be clear:  MY DAUGHTER HAS URANIUM!!!  I could send you to the Amazon.com link to the left and for $39.95 you’ll find a joke can labeled “uranium,” but that would merely continue in misleading you on this point.  Instead click on the link below.   I’ll wait for you here.  (But, let me warn you, you may need item number 6 after seeing what you’re about to see…)


Uhhh… yeah…

They sell uranium on-line.

THEY SELL URANIUM!!!!  THEY SELL RADIOACTIVE ORE!!!  THEY SELL RADIOACTIVE ISOTOPES!!!  THEY SELL MISC NUCLEAR ITEMS!!!  (Not that there’s anything wrong with that… except for everything that’s wrong with that.)   I’d rather not discuss what my daughter intends to do with her uranium, or how, as a minor, she masterminded her plan to purchase it.  Let me just say, she’s young and impressionable, a big fan of the movie The Mouse That Roared, and a bit of a genius (I’m just hoping that she uses her genius for good, not evil.  But, aren’t we all hoping that?  I believe we are.  I believe we are…).  And, why, you may ask, have I not taken it away from her?  Well, let me tell you why; it’s because she is a genius who has URANIUM.  Besides, frankly, she’s much more capable of handling the stuff than I.

8.     Pain free tweezers.  Best to let the video do the talking.

I’ll be honest, I’m not really sure what she’s using these for.

9.  Ah, there’s nothing like the soothing, relaxing comfort of a bouncy chair.  The Kid prefers the Bright Star Ingenuity Automatic Bouncer.  It’s what all the trendy newborns are bouncing in these days.  Sure, it doesn’t have the fine Corinthian leather, or dual hydraulic shocks; and, maybe it lacks the contours and precision design of some of your finer German made bouncy seats.  But, we’re Americans, damn it, which means we want the finest plastic and questionably chemically treated poly-fibers that the Chinese can provide us.  But, she really does like it.  

10.  The Kid hasn’t yet had the chance to use the product provided at this site  http://www.stumbleupon.com/su/3zqz8g/cargocollective.com/4thamendment
but she can’t wait!  (Perhaps some of our Catholic readers may find creative uses for this in certain situations outside of airports…)

OK, true believers, that wraps up this edition of Not About Snakes.  We’ll be back next week when we will most definitely not talk about snakes.  As always, you can follow the Kid on Twitter (see the top left of the page) and also, type in your email (also top left) to get notifications when the blog is updated.  Don’t be afraid to leave comments below (however, do be afraid of the Kid’s wrath if you say something disparaging – SHE HAS URANIUM PEOPLE, don’t piss her off!)


PEACE OUT!

Tuesday, July 12, 2011

Interlude: What the Sam Hill ? ! ? ! ? !

I can't believe my eyes!!!!
My wife and I are often woken around 3:30AM by our beautiful daughter (wet diaper, ready for the 4AM feeding a little early, wanting to discuss the meaning of life, etc.), but last night was the first time she chose the method of grabbing me by my shirt, pulling my face up to hers and screaming, "You!  Computer!  NOW!"

(You may ask yourself, "What is a six-week-old baby doing on the computer at that time of night?"  Well, I'm very happy you're asking yourself and not me, because I sure as hell don't have an answer for you.)

We rushed to the laptop.  "I crapped my pants when I saw this," said the Kid.  I pointed out that crapping her pants was kind of her norm.  She wasn't amused.   The Kid was on one of her favorite sites www.badassdigest.com (natch!) and she showed me something called "Solid Potato Salad"  that... well...  honestly, I crapped my pants, too...  

"You never told me that things like this existed," said my daughter.  "I didn't know myself," I replied.  "You're very much a disappointment to me," said she.  "Thanks," said I.  "Seriously, what the heck have you done with all your time on this planet?" she asked.  "Hey, who showed you Soderbergh's Schizopolis?" I rejoined.  "OK, I'll give you that, but you can't keep using the same trump card over and over," she said.  "It's 3:30 in the morning and I'm not going to argue with you about how cool I am.  You and I both know that no other dad gave their newborn a signed copy of Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy for their one month birthday," I said.  "Dude," said the Kid, "It was signed by you..."

On that note...

Be patient, it's about 45 seconds in that you'll wish you'd been sitting on the john when you hit play.  Enjoy!

E Pluribus Unum! & PEACE OUT!

Friday, July 8, 2011

Interlude: Sidekicks to the Forefront

Just a quick lil sumn sumn for you today.  Here are the newest badass chicks the Kid is interested in:

Garfunkel and Oates

Seems the Kid thinks smart, funny gals are badass (and she's probably correct there).  We have to post a DISCLAIMER.  The Kid says her Nana shouldn't watch this, nor should any of her over 40 family members who are easily offended.  There are bad words in this video (don't worry she's five-weeks-old people, I've taught her only three or four bad words so far -- most of this stuff goes over her head, but she just can't resist anyone who is able to make the pop cultural reference swing from Norman Mailer to Tim the Toolman Taylor).
"This Party Just Took a Turn for the Douche"


One other thing, the Kid is still hell-bent to get a unicorn.  If anyone knows where we can procure one, please let us know by comment below, or email.  (She may settle for a trained Neanderthal, so hit us up if anyone spots one of those on Ebay, too!)

DON'T BE AFRAID TO TELL US WHAT YOU THINK...

imgres.jpg

Tuesday, July 5, 2011

GAIL GOODRICH, DEAR ABBY & BARBARIAN QUOTES

“Cry havoc! And let slip the dogs of war…”
William Shakespeare Julius Caesar

“Cry – just CRY! And let slip Mommy and Daddy’s tenuous grip on sanity…”
The Kid

I’m writing this prologue, without having seen the body of the text.  It will be as much a surprise to me as it will be to you on first reading.  The older she gets, the more the Kid wants to flex her self-sufficient muscles.  That being said, she wants to write this week’s blog all by her lonesome.  Truth be told – so that I wouldn’t “interfere” with her journalistic/literary prowess – she hired a nice person named Margaret from a local temp agency to do the typing.  (There’s still some disagreement over who is paying Margaret for her secretarial services… I argue that it most definitely should not be me since I’m more than happy to do the typing.  My daughter says I can’t help but to give my own editorial opinions which creates a bastardized version of her original intent and work, which forces her to hire out. By her logic, since I can’t control myself, I am at duty for payment.  I think her argument is weak, and besides, this is supposed to be a joint effort).  Anyway, let’s see what she has to say.
Paparazzi photo taken of the Author circa 2011

“Hello.  I would like to thank you for your continuing readership.  And, if you’re new to this blog:  WELCOME!  Now, if you’d be so kind, I would love it if all of you would take a hike.  Seriously, stop reading now.  You’re still reading.  This isn’t a cutesy way for me to get you to continue reading, I really, REALLY want you to stop reading.  This week’s blog isn’t for you, it’s for my people – the babies.  If you HAVE a baby at home, then I ask you kindly to please set him/her by the computer, walk away for 5-10 minutes – depending on your infant’s adeptness at reading – and go have a smoke or a beer or a good weep or whatever it is you giant people do when we’re asleep and/or not around.

OK… here we go.  Hello, my brethren and sisthren!  I am here to help and guide you through the first weeks of your journey here on mother earth.  Some of you have already made the trip into this world, while others of you who are reading this are still in vivo.  (If you are wondering how a baby in the womb could read this blog, then you are obviously a giant person {who defied my request to cease reading} and NOT a baby!  The babies don’t need such simple things explained to them…)

The giant people have countless books, written by self-proclaimed “authorities on the subject” in regards to child rearing.   Just look to the left for crying out loud!  We, the infants, have no such thing to map our way. I intend to rectify this.  May these simple suggestions and insights assist you in what will be at times a frightening yet exciting adventure.  I wish I had had a primer like this before I’d come into the world, it would have helped me start this blog while still in the womb, instead of waiting until I exited.  Don’t fret if some of this seems daunting (and I beg of you, do not feel inferior to me because I can read, write and solve complex philosophical problems.  The simple truth is, you are inferior to me.  But, I’m sure you’ll find those whom you are superior to – most likely your parents, aka the giant people.  These things happen.  Move on.)

Your giant people are going to be very, very pleased to see you once you arrive.  They will love you and have great aspirations in regards to who and what you will become.  In turn, with time, you too will probably love and appreciate them.  First things first, though.  From birth until – well you should decide how long “until” is – you must, MUST pulverize their will, break them with impunity and utterly demolish their souls.  To paraphrase a great sage, “Crush your enemies – See them driven before you, and hear the lamentation of their women!”  Harsh you may say?  Life is harsh, kiddo, you’d best decide now on which side of the ledger you want your name printed!

So, how does one do this?  Simple, my friends.  You have limited weapons at your disposal, but they are powerful ones.  Initially, when you enter into life, you will scream and cry.  You’ll do this for no apparent reason; although, the giant people will say it has to do with the shock of leaving the womb’s comfort.   Bullpocky!  You’re doing it because it’s fun – a real rush, daddi-o!  And, man, oh man the giants are going to love that first cry, because they’re gonna think that means you’re healthy.  Well, that “healthy” cry is your first, best and most powerful weapon.   It will only be a matter of days before that cry has changed how they think.  It will change how they live their lives.  It may even change their faith in the existence of a higher power; because, you are going to bludgeon them with that cry. 

If they’ve done their due diligence and read a parenting book or books, they’re going to think they have a handle on why you are crying.  Let them think just that – at first.  Give them a glimmer of hope that they are competent parents.   And then, my friends, obliterate them. 

What they will not understand is that you are crying for absolutely no other reason than to gain the upper hand.  You can sleep 24 hours straight, no problem, but DON’T.  Sleep erratically and when you’re not sleeping SCREAM.  They’ll feed you.  Great, thanks.  SCREAM.  Burp you, holy crap that felt great.  SCREAM.  Clean diaper.  Suh-weeeet.  SCREAM.  Give them a little cute smile, that’ll catch them off guard, they’ll run for the camera and then, yup… SCREAM.  Scream at night (especially at night), scream during the day.  Oh, and cry and scream in the grocery store or any other public setting. 

The giant people will consult their books, their friends, doctors, websites, family, Oprah (Oprah’s a whole other story…) to try and figure out what they’re doing wrong.  And, there’s the key.  They’re not doing anything wrong or right, it’s just that you have an agenda – to break their will, to bend them to do your bidding.  And why would you do this?  Because, it’s FUN!  It really, really is.  Just wait, you’ll see. 

And, if like me, you have grandparents who live out of town, then here’s something else you should do.  Find out when the grandparents are coming, and the week before, really, and I mean, really pour it on thick.  Let your cries and screams become epic, I mean real horrorshow, bloody murder, hot poker up the tush kinda wails.  Your parents will then warn their parents that you aren’t all sugar and spice and that they should just be prepared that their grandchild is a “spirited” or “fussy” or “evil” baby.  And then, oh this is good, this is RICH, then when the grandparents arrive, do a complete 180.  Become the embodiment of perfection.  Sleep when you’re supposed to, eat, burp, everything right on schedule.  Keep the poops to a minimum and let the charm drip like honey.  You’re going to become the sweetest little Gerber baby anyone has ever seen.  Then, THEN, your grandparents will CONTINUALLY tell your parents that they don’t know what they were talking about and that you are “a perfect little angel.”  BAM!  Beautiful. 
Definition: Angel...
Definition:  Illustrating the point...
(of course who wouldn't scream with
that ridiculous thing on their head?)


Small caveat, however, if your parents are even half-way savvy, they may begin to suspect that you’re playing them.  I suggest keeping up the good Samaritan routine for at least a week after the grandparents leave.  This will make your parents think that you were perhaps having a growth spurt or some such nonsense and that you’re now moving on to the next phase of your development.  It’s a load of hogwash.  You’re just setting the next trap and this trap is made out of more CRIES AND SCREAMS. 

And, really, that’s it.  It may seem senseless to you now; but, I assure you it’s great sport and it’ll give your parents good stories to tell when you’re an adult.

OK, a few other things you’ll need to know:

  1. “The Chapelle Show” is the bomb.  Watch it as soon as you get home from the hospital.

  1. Don’t let them let you sleep on your stomach.

  1. Don’t drink and drive.

  1. If your daddy dude doesn’t know the joke about the Japanese atheist, you and giant mommy person may need to rethink keeping him, because that’s a great joke and you don’t want to miss out.

  1. Don’t spit out the pacifier too many times, because they may stop giving it to you and you don’t want that to happen.  That pacifier?  Brother, let me tell you, that puppy’s Nirvana…

  1. No matter how many times they try and give it to you, don’t eat steak for at least twelve months. 

  1. The Beatles are timeless.

  1. Plastics.

  1. Do not waste your time learning to speak Sumerian.

  1. And last, but not least, never, NEVER settle for second best!

Until next time, “Make mine Marvel!”  
Konichiwa, b#*%!^s!!!!

(sigh)  Loveable little dickens ain’t she?  Me and the wife are really beginning to question whether starting this blog was a good idea…


PEACE OUT!








Monday, July 4, 2011