The intellectual equivalent of a ham sandwich.

Posts tagged ‘humor’

Month 10, or Stand Up And Make Your Voice Heard!

The little monster, aka the mook, aka the kook mook, aka the mook riot, aka my son, and my wife are currently … AWAY. WHAT!? My wife and the kiddo are going to have their first night without dad there too and woe is dad, woe is mom, likely unaware is the kiddo. I’ll be joining them shortly to visit family … but for now it’s an unreal amount of free time in the evening.

Let’s get to it, shall we?

First, we’ll go with the betters and then we’ll get into the firsts. Then a grab bag/other category.

BETTERS!

It’s strange how I can look back on a month and think, ‘hmm, did much happen? He just seems like he was last month … but better at everything.’ He’s a quicker crawler, a better sitter, quicker and more stable when pulling himself into a standing position (he has to have help by holding onto an object to get himself up). He is just ever so slightly showing an interest in cruising.

Crawling, it turns out, is the best possible way to find every little crumb or bit of leaf or clump of dog hair or you name it small item in the house. Our vacuum can’t be powerful enough, or run enough. The kid is a seek and destroy missile for tiny bits of debris. And, like a vacuum capable of choking, those items will be picked up and an attempt will be made to suck them down. Crawl, crawl, pause, pick up gross item, slowly lift toward mouth … mom or dad jump in (hopefully the majority of the time), repeat.

A simultaneously fun and not fun new habit is his sense of exploration. At first the monster discovered crawling and would go from toy A to toy B, or make a futile effort to chase down the dog. (It’s futile not because the dog runs away, but because he usually gets distracted along his path to the dog.) Now the kitchen is worth checking out, the front entry way, and oh, oh a NEW favorite toy – DOOR STOPPERS! What fun those little spring loaded, hittable things they are. And what fun it is to try and rip them off the wall, too.

In the category of more movement the standing efforts have really kicked up as well. The kiddo has enjoyed crawling over obstacles for a while, for example a boppy sitting out must be crawled OVER, not around. And parents fall into this obstacle category too. If you are laying down, he’ll crawl over you or on you and then lovingly attack your face. I say lovingly, but it’s not. He will pinch your nose, try to pull off your lips, he is an aggressive explorer. Like a sculptor working with live people, he’ll just keep trying til your face is the shape he’s looking for. If you are sitting upright, then you are his standing assistant. Little pinch-y hands grab your shirt and upsy-daisy go the formerly very wobbly knees (now mildly wobbly). (And can we call them knees, really? He seems to be made of flexible, stretchy, heavenly soft-skinned goo … he is so bendy it boggles the mind. He’ll crawl halfway up me, fall back down and I swear his legs are in some pretzel formation underneath him but he just goes right back to work.) He has a few toys that are great for standing practice, and one day he hinted at a future step because he cruised from one toy to another next to it. Trouble to come. Unfortunately with his standing efforts he has also increased his likelihood of wipeouts, and he rocked a wicked cheek bruise for a while after a tough fall forward INTO a wooden toy. Ouch.

The tiny tyrant has also expanded his food repertoire and has decreased (mildly, so, so mildly) his reliance on his parent’s help. My wife was surprised one day to find the kiddo FEEDING HIMSELF at daycare. What!? We didn’t know he could do that! They had him set up with his bottle of milk, just drinking and chilling. Huh. At home he is now able to feed himself from those squeeze food pouches which is adorable. It’s fun to see his tiny little hand holding that pouch, and the tiny bit leaving each time he sucks on it. AND, big exciting news, he now eats some ‘people foods’ as I call them. As in, a little deli turkey is now possibly his favorite snack. It is adorable and terrifying to watch due to fear of choking.

And now for the sleep front. This month we made the decision to work toward no more night time feedings because he really didn’t need them. Having come back from a trip, and the little fella having a cold, we had made backwards progress with him eating 2-3 times a night. We decided to take one away on Friday, and the next Friday we’d take one more away, etc. We also came up with plans (there is so much planning) around how the night would work.

‘Ok, if he wakes up at 12, you feed him … if he wakes up again before 3, I’ll go in, if he wakes up AT 3 you feed him, if he wakes up after like … 430, I’ll handle him.’

By having me, non-milk dad (that’s what the cool kids call me … nah that’s gross), go in he would know ‘THERE’S NO FOODS IN THAT THERE BREAST! (just tiny pectoral muscles.)’ Harsh comment, son.

Anyway, over the course of 2 weeks we had gotten to ZERO night feedings and the night was going much more predictably! He would wake up only once usually, and friendos, THAT AIN’T BAD. But then, a week into the 0 night feedings, Father’s Day weekend actually, BOOM he’s waking up frequently. My wife and I decided to split the load. Monday my wife took him to the doc and GUESS WHAT! DOUBLE EAR INFECTION! Our son started daycare in April, from April to mid June he managed to get 5 ear infections. That’s rough. The doc advised we see an ENT doc to get tubes put in his ears.

(This is where you might picture the students getting off the magic school bus, grabbing a water tube, and sliding down a SWEET EAR WAX WATER SLIDE! WHEEEEE!)

The great news is that, dipping a little into post 10-month territory, the sleep is now back in great shape with the ear infections having been drugged out of the system. And our little tiny darling will have surgery in late July for the tubes. We had THREE nights he slept through the night, bouncing back and forth with one wake up per night and a sleep-through night … oh, heavenly sleep. Unfortunately, my body seems acclimated to waking up randomly at 230 am. I could do without that.

FIRSTS!

On the sleep front … (Idea: spoof of All Quiet on the Western Front, but instead it’s All Quiet on the Sleep Front … dark children’s bedtime book where a baby and a grown-up are trapped in a foxhole together and one of them, probably the baby, stabs the other and then thinks about how we’re all just people and who are the people even telling us to kill one another who are so far removed from this brutality? What, too dark? Maybe not a bedtime book.) (I ought to re-read that book.)

Anywho … the kiddo also went from FOUR naps a day, short ones at that, to three and then quickly to two. And not just two naps, two pretty darn good naps. We had a run for a while of a solid one hour nap starting between 9 and 930 and then another solid one hour nap at 2pm. It was wonderful. Now they are a little more wobbly, with them sometimes being as short as thirty minutes but it’s still the predictable put down times and oh how wonderful to have those do nothing or accomplish chores lickity split breaks.

Congrats, mook, on having two great naps!

A first that did not go as envisioned: the pool! My wife and I signed up as members for the community center in town. We took the little monster to the pool where they have a great kid’s area with built-in water guns, a play area with buckets that swing around and splash water, a water slide, a lazy river – it’s fantastic. But, perhaps, fantastic for bigger kids who can actually play with these things. Because our little monster got put in the water and began to cry. We then eased him in by walking around with him some, slowly putting his feet in the water, and then slowly sitting him down in one of our laps, etc, etc. Eventually he reached a state of ‘I’m tolerating this.’ We will continue to work on building up his tolerance because … well, it’d be fun.

(Note: I’d love for him to be a great swimmer. I am a terrible one. This morning I went to the community center to swim laps which I enjoy despite the fact that for every minute I spend swimming I spend 1 minute gasping for air at the end of my lane. The swim lanes were full, so a mom came by and asked if her daughter could swim in my lane, too. I said sure, and then both her 10-13 year old daughters hopped in. Great. And you know what those little girls proceeded to do? Zoom past me, time after time. I probably had a solid two feet of height on them, but their tiny legs and arms and ACTUAL PROPER FORM and breathing technique really showed me up. I’d love for my son to smash my swimming abilities, too.)

My wife convinced me (how? why?) that we should buy a kiddie pool to put in the backyard. Given my lame suburban status I was concerned about what it would do to the lawn, and the extra water usage … But we got one. The kiddo is ALSO not particularly fond of this, but it is growing on him. He had gotten spoiled by toasty baths and didn’t know what regular water temperatures are, at least that’s my rationale. He’s not terribly communicative except in a language I don’t speak.

And last but not least (kudos if you stuck with me): first high chair at a restaurant! This was a heavy dose of adorable, and has since been repeated a few times, almost making it seem … dare I say, normal? You really adjust to new normals FAST with a baby because their normal changes so fast. It went from ‘oh, watch him … oh, woah … is he sliding? Is he wobbling too much?’ to ‘here, kiddo, have this food pouch and feed yourself while mom and dad eat.’ INSANE!

As my son would say, pbbbbbbbbtttbbtbtbtbtbt! (He has gotten very skilled at raspberries, or fart noises with your mouth for the crude among us, and boy can he work up the drool.) And, as the title attempts to indicate, he has gotten much more expressive with his babble and his smacking counter tops. He seems to really be settling in well to his Tiny Tyrant nickname. What are you saying, dear dictator?

Until next time!

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Attn: Ellen (7/11/18)

Front

Ellen357a

Back (apologies for my handwriting!)

Ellen356b

 

The text of the postcard is

Dear Ellen,

I like this picture because at first you see the feet and think, ‘oh weird’ then you see the arm and think ‘AHH!’

Sorta like a first date red flag reveal.

Sincerely,
DumbFunnery.com
OR @DumbFunnery

Why am I doing this?

 

June 2018 Haiku

June 1 (Friday)
With Trump I have learned
Opposite meditation
Deep breath. SCREAM. Deep breath.

June 2 (Saturday)
The heart soars with love
… As son snacks me in the face
… While shouting nonsense

June 3 (Sunday)
Kid’s first trip to pool!
What fun, huh?! Please? Darling? Fun?
…He was not a fan

June 4 (Monday)
Restaurant idea
‘Everything Tastes Like Chicken’
… Only serve cat food

June 5 (Tuesday)
Invited to lunch
“I’m trying to save money”
Offered coupon … What.

June 6 (Wednesday)
It’s Wednesday, right guys?
More like … When’s this day over!
(I apologize)

June 7 (Thursday)
Kid wants to stand. NOW.
Seems to move in slow motion …
Falls at super speed

June 8 (Friday)
Old men and babies
They walk leading with their guts
And love being nude

June 9 (Saturday)
It’s dad’s time to shine
Cutting last night time feeding
No milk here, buddy

June 10 (Sunday)
Dad handled night time
Mom and kid woke up early
And got doughnuts. Score.

June 11 (Monday)
The kid was cough-y
So now dad needs some coffee!
… Lord I’m so tired

June 12 (Tuesday)
Is Jersey Mike’s good?
Yes. Do they make snails look fast?
Un…Doubt…Ed…Ly…So

June 13 (Wednesday)
You’ve just died. God’s real.
Turns out God LOVES Mountain Dew.
How freaked out are you?

June 14 (Thursday)
I do love cuddles
Even if it’s one am
Which is, frankly, nuts

June 15 (Friday)
Two bad bugs are found
In cliché coding fashion
It’s last day of tests

June 16 (Saturday)
Saw Solo today
Star Wars fans are too whiny
They’re movies. Enjoy.

June 17 (Sunday)
Happy Father’s Day
One whole parent, one tenth the
Expectations. DADS!

June 18 (Monday)
Wore new socks today
They’re polka dot, but instead
Of dots … It’s son’s face

June 19 (Tuesday)
Hi gross leftovers.
Yes you’re bland and kinda gross
But I’m cheap. So there.

June 20 (Wednesday)
It’s not a good thing
When reading the news makes you
Want to cry or scream

June 21 (Thursday)
Pres playing a game
It’s him against common sense
Everyone’s losing

June 22 (Friday)
So, convertibles …
Think first one was a mistake?
“Ohhhhhh shoot … Eh, ship it.”

June 23 (Saturday)
First haircut today
Old man hairs hung over ears
Are no more – bye friends

June 24 (Sunday)
My watch tracks my steps
And tells me trends like, ‘Sundays:
‘Did your legs fall off?’

June 25 (Monday)
Boss’s boss in town
Effort to dress to impress:
Wore my nicest shorts

June 26 (Tuesday)
If World Cup was real
What kind of cup would it be?
Probably sippy

June 27 (Wednesday)
Kiddo wakes early
The alarm clock on my phone
Has felt neglected

June 28 (Thursday)
KID SLEPT THROUGH THE NIGHT
A RARE AND WONDERFUL TREAT!
… It was pretty nice

June 29 (Friday)
xbox with some pals
“How’s the new – aw frick I died! –
House? All unpacked now?”

June 30 (Saturday)
To do list and I
Have an odd relationship
There’s love and loathing

Attn: Ellen (7/4/18)

Front

Ellen356a

Back (apologies for my handwriting!)

Ellen357b

 

The text of the postcard is

Dear Ellen,

Happy July 4th, and happy bday America. May we look back upon this time as our awkward, rebellious teenage years.

Sincerely,
DumbFunnery.com OR
@DumbFunnery

Why am I doing this?

 

You and Your Dangling Participle

This may or may not be common knowledge … but there is an age that men reach where, when/if they go to a gym locker room … they will be naked as much as possible.

You may have a few questions, let me take a guess at them and answer those.

What Age?
I don’t know. Is it the exact same moment in time for every man? 62 years, 204 days, 3 hours? Is it variable based on your life experiences? Is it related to race, religion, favorite foods? Who knows. But it happens to every man.

Sad fact: one day, I, too, will wander the men’s locker room, towel cavalierly draped over a shoulder, walking like a toddler letting my gut lead the way while my Jimmy Dean is out on display.

But … Why?
Exactly. EXACTLY. It’s not like a, ‘oh I left my towel over there, let me go back and grab it and wrap it around the waist like normal people do.’ No. It is deliberate. The towel is handy, but it’s being used to cover a guy’s elbow, perhaps a kneecap, but that’s it. Minimal coverage is the goal here. But the towel is always handy, letting you know, ‘this ain’t no accident, chief.’

And suddenly the world has slowed to a crawl for these fellas, too. You just showered, you know what you need to do? Make like Auguste Rodin and sit and think. But, unlike The Thinker, think with your legs open. You’ve got to let your New England Man Chowder breathe.

(Gross nickname, right? I’m proud of that one.)

Are They Naked Like That Other Places?
Thankfully, I have no idea. I haven’t notice this extend to public places. And I’m not seeing these guys streaking at baseball games or anything (that wouldn’t be in their nature – streaking usually involves running, and these guys like to look upon the snail as their inspiration in life).

What Can I Do To Prevent This?
If you’re a male, nothing. If you’re a male who is younger and going to gyms, I suggest you work out in glasses. Then, when you go to shower and get dressed you just don’t wear your glasses. Super blind? Super news. Mildly blind? Sorry, you’ve got legless lizards in your future.

If you have perfect eyesight, you deserve this. Jerk.

***

If you didn’t know this about men and locker rooms. I’m sorry you bear the weight of this knowledge now. I’d suggest eating to forget the pain, but I wouldn’t recommend hot dogs.

IMG_20180608_194738138

Somewhere near this is a naked old man.

Attn: Ellen (6/27/18)

Front

Ellen355a

Back (apologies for my handwriting!)

 

Ellen355b

The text of the postcard is

Dear Ellen,

Some fictional universes can be wonderful. Places to escape to in your head. Books, movies, and cults – they really create some stunning places.

Sincerely,
DumbFunnery.com OR
@DumbFunnery

Why am I doing this?

 

The Little Bus, With the Little Passenger

If you are a frequent visitor to my blog then you are aware that my wife and I have a kiddo, and he was born about 7 weeks early. This has led to my wife and I being quite interested in all things preterm (we’re part of a select club you know).

Recently, an article in the journal Science talked about some findings … given that I’m not brainy or enthused enough to read every Science journal (a more ambitious and time-well-utilized version of myself would) … I read a dumbed down article about it from the New York Times.

It ended with this paragraph,

It is almost as though the molecular message being sent by RNA “is a little bus that travels back and forth and is letting Mom know what’s going on,” Dr. Cheng said.  “I bet you they’re going to find that the mother’s going to respond. There’s a conversation going on. That’s what’s cool.”

(RNA is what is looked at by this blood test.)

***

Hi, I’m Gary. I drive the bus that a mother and fetus use to talk to each other and it’s amazing and incredible and whatever, but guys. It is also disgusting.

You know how pregnant women have their ‘water.’ And when it’s go time the water breaks and oh a miracle and blah blah?

You know that water is partially baby urine, right? And that sick baby is drinking that urine?

Do you know what it’s like communicating with a urine drinker? I’LL TELL YOU! IT’S GROSS. Their breath is just … weird. And they have this distinct, ‘as soon as this conversation is over … I’m gonna drink more urine’ look on their faces. It’s weird.

And those little guys are INTENSE. Their hearts beat like … I don’t know, 160 beats per minute? Imagine the tiniest person you know on crack, drinking urine. That’s a baby. ‘Hey look man, I just discovered this, check it out!’ Then the baby goes and like strangles itself with the umbilical cord for a while, all the while staring right at me. Blech. It’s terrifying.

And you know who I haven’t even mentioned yet? The mother. My God the mother. ‘Oh I’m a dad and my wife is more emotional these days and wah wah wah.’ OH YEAH, PAL!? TRY DRIVING A BUS INSIDE SOMEONE WHOSE HORMONES LIKE JUST TOOK LSD AND HEADED TO THE TOWN CARNIVAL.

Seriously. It’s like, you show up and say, ‘hey, baby says maybe 7 weeks to go and it’s digging all the kale you’ve been eating lately, but also it wants you to eat ice cream out of a plastic bag.’ And the mom is like, ‘my little darling angel’ all cooing with love and then the mom thinks about all the plastic garbage floating in the ocean and she starts crying and then the mom thinks about how salty her tears are and wants McDonald’s fries and then she’s SO, SO ANGRY AND I DON’T KNOW WHY.

So you get the message from the mom which is … you know, mixed, and you take it back to old urine mouth.

It’s just.

I don’t know man.

I wish one of the white blood cells would hang out with me sometime, those guys are cool.

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