Making time for babies....

I could not be happier to report that Evelyn May arrived into this wonderful world on Friday, July 24th. She is a picture of health and beauty, we are grateful to be so lucky.

I've been waiting for an unbeliveable anxiety to settle in about being in the unique situation of having two kids under two, but it hasn't happened. I was really thinking there would be a moment where I would be driving around and then suddenly find myself in a full-blown panic attack about how we are going to be able to manage raising a 15 month-old and a newborn girl. I pictured a meltdown worrying about how we will afford diapers, how are we going to find the time to do anything but change those diapers, how will we find sleep and what the hell have we done? I am surprised to report that I have yet to freak out about those things, rather, I am freaked out that this is going to move by too fast.

Six days after Evelyn was born, Mandy and I scheduled a two-for-one pediatrician appointment for the babies. Evelyn went first, I put her on the baby scale, got her height, measured her head and then set her up with a fresh diaper. Then it was Dylan's turn, and he put up a struggle, talked the whole time and by the end I realized that I was putting a diaper on a person, not a baby. How could my little baby become a little boy overnight? Was it just because Evelyn is so tiny and delicate compared to Dylan? Nope, I've come to the realization that Dylan is becoming a toddler. What the hell is going on here?

I can honestly say that this crazy little period of our lives is the most fun I have ever had. Sure Evelyn is a great sleeper, so we have not experienced the all-night crying fits, but who cares if we do? This is it, and when it is over there is no coming back to this moment. I can't understand how anyone can complain about the stress of raising little kids, this is fantastic and it is going to be over in the blink of an eye. I've never been overly nostalgic about things, but I know for a fact that I will look back at this moment as being the pinnacle moment of my life. I'll sit in a wheelchair in my own poop when I'm 90 years old with a smile on my face, remembering the joy I found from my little ones.

I once heard someone say, "Kids spell love T-I-M-E", and I'm quickly learning parents spell it the same way too..

What did I miss???

Lately, I have been starting to notice that a change is a-comin', and my timing is a little off in noticing. Without knowing why or how, I have blindly been existing the last 8 months without processing the fact Mandy is actually pregnant. I've had conversations about the pregnancy to everyone I talk to, I have watched Mandy go through a rather uncomfortable and trying pregnancy, but I can truly say it has not hit me to the extreme in which I expected it to. I was expecting to have a panic attack by now, or even a complete and total meltdown. I'm beginning to think it is not because I am level headed about things, but rather, oblivious and insensitive to my own surroundings!

I need to get the baby girls room ready, re-baby proof the house, get ready to lose sleep again and basically get in gear!

Just like that, huh, you don't like the bath?

Since Dylan was born, he liked to take a bath. The ritual started in his little plastic tub in the kitchen sink, but he was in the big boy bath in no time. He liked to splash, reach for the running water, play with toys and discover his naughty bits.

Then, out of the blue, he freaked out when Mandy tried to give him a bath last week. From all accounts, he had a total and complete meltdown and he has been spooked out about the tub ever since. I climbed in the tub on Sunday to try and lure him in, not that I have the skill of luring little kids into bath tubs with me. Speaking of which, baths are disgusting. I feel more dirty when I get out of a bath, I'm missing something here.

Anyway, I tried luring the child into the shallow cesspool, but with no luck. He did splash his hand a bit, and then we reintroduced his little plastic tub that was used when he was a newborn. Again, he splashed and even sat in it for a minute or so.

He never showed interest in getting in the tub, but the fear seemed to have glazed off his face. Mandy's fear on the other hand was there the whole time, afraid I would scoop up Dylan and force him in the tub. I must admit the temptation was there, but the trauma and trust issues I would have potentially caused may not have been reversible.

We'll see if it is a phase, or if we'll have to start hosing him off in the front yard.

No Silence Without Lammy

Over the last year I have endured my fair share of 'firsts' as a new dad. There have been diapers that made me question humanity, seeing him walk for the first time, discover how to say a few words, feeling an unbelievable fear when he got chickenpox at 5 months, and then rotavirus at 10 months. But, yesterday, I experienced something that was truly unique and eye opening.

My sister and her husband just had a baby girl a few weeks back, and she called yesterday to see if we wanted to meet them for an afternoon at the Cuyahoga County Rib-Burn-Off . It was a gorgeous day, and who does not want to see the type characters that roam the county fairgrounds for a Rib-Burn-Off?

We got there around two in the afternoon, right about Dylan's naptime. But, it is summertime and naps are a sliding scale when there is something to do. We met for our family play date, and I packed a six-pack of Bud Light cans to save a few bucks. I've discovered how great it is having diaper and bottle bags to store beer in for festival-like events, only wish I could bring my one year old to evening concerts, would save a ton.

The crowd was nice and manageable, but there were some charcters there for sure. We sampled some ribs and let Dylan bounce around to some of the live music.

About an hour into our visit, we were planning our next meal to attack. Would it be the cheese fries, deep fried Oreos or maybe a blazing rib sampler from the rib stand that looks like they had the most trophies? That is when I looked down at Dylan in his stroller and asked my wife, "Where is Lammy?" She looked down and instantly darted off to retrace our steps. We both knew if was only minutes and yards ago that we saw him, because I spent $10 popping balloons to win a pathetic pig that Dylan quickly tossed to the ground. We both knew a pig from the Rib-Burn-Off could not compare to the the softness and comfort of Lammy.

Dylan was given Lammy while he was still in the womb, by a close teacher friend of Mandys in Colorado. Dylan had always had Lammy, and Lammy Dylan. Even Howie Beast, our Yorkie dog, will not attempt to grab Lammy, because it is well known that is Dylans.

As I watched Mandy, seven months pregnant, waddle her way through the fairgrounds, I anticipated her bending down to scoop up Lammy with a sigh of relief. She was back within minutes, crying her eyes out and saying, "We have to go, I'm having contractions." Not an uncommon response when she is stressed, so we did not run for the hospital for an early delivery. Rather, we spent the next hour scouring the County Fairgrounds for Lammy. Asking anyone on a golf cart, or wearing a badge, "Have you seen Lammy, a little white Lamb?" People responded with caution and confusion, but the answer was always no.

Quickly, our focus turned to the Rib-Burn-Off patrons, or white trash losers? Like the scene in Pee Wee's Big Adventure where Pee Wee looses his bike and the happy waving clown statue he chained his bike to suddenly becomes scary and evil. This was our scene as well, the mild mannered Clevelanders who filled the Fairgrounds all became sneaky suspects in the disappearance of Lammy. I was looking at parents and children alike, just like a criminal profiler would do. Sniffing out leads, trying to catch a peak in diaper bags and strollers. Eyeballing mullet wearing bikers, just to see if they would flinch.

Unfortunately, the case had gone cold, and we had exhausted our resources. We had to go home without Lammy. No leaving numbers our making a police report, we knew someone had stolen him and just prayed he made some shoeless little orphan child a happy, rib eating, thief.

The drive home was dead silent, Dylan was laughing and playing in the backseat, as we sat stone-faced looking forward. We could not even look back at him, he was not fully aware yet that his friend was abducted. Once we arrived home we found out Lammy's full name was Product #1320, Cream Lamb Sleepy Cuddler, by Douglas Toys, $25.40

There would be no replacing Lammy that evening, it was Memorial Day and the closest retail store selling him was over 100 miles away. So, we ordered another Lammy online, and decided to wait the week for delivery. I figured, we'll get through this without incident, and Dylan will sleep just fine without him. What was worse was the sickening feeling that sunk in once I realized his Lammy was really gone. Some other kid was finding comfort in his Lammy? The thought just made me want to crawl up in a ball and die, I almost threw up.

I was wrong, he did not sleep well last night. He always sleeps well, and I can't confirm Lammy being shanghaied had anything to do with his restlessness, but I would believe you if you told me it did. Apparently, his naptime was so bad this afternoon that my wife called the Douglas Toy Company in desperation. They were very nice and spent the time to find a distributor who had one left in Mentor, only 45 minutes from our house. Mandy called me an hour ago, and she reported that Dylan now has a fresh new Lammy. So I wanted to hear how excited he was to have his Lammy back, I was curious if he squealed or yelled. No, he gave a mean face and threw it to the ground. But all is right in the world, and my wonderful wife has taken the steps to hopefully realign the sleeping pattern.

Welcome home Lammy.