Ok. You caught me. I will plead to "I haven't felt all that creative and I'm kind of lazy" in the first degree. But I will change. I promise. Just give me a slap on the wrist, a verbal reprimand, 15 lashings across the.... Oh never mind. I will try to be better.
So since I've been gone some stuff has happened. One band fizzled. I pseudo-joined another, which has slowed. And another is in the works. So that's the musical update.
The dog is good. He's a little stinker at times, but we (most of us) love him. Its hard to imagine but its been almost a year that we have had him. Time flies.
Kid wise is a different story. We have gotten into our groove with school, errands, playing, and what-have-you. Bayly is doing great in school. Reading. Writing. Spelling everything. And I mean EVERYTHING. I can't even spell out "bad words" anymore because she will figure it out. Why do they have to be so smart? I blame the schools.
Cali is coming into her own; her own devilish character. For instance, I would be cleaning up, kids playing together and as soon as I look up I see Bayly do some sort of bodily harm to her sister. The first couple of times I reprimanded the elder child and imposed a fitting punishment. After the fifth or so time this happens I realized that it was the younger offspring that was instigating. Bayly was just defending herself. The little (insert adjective here) was timing it just so that she wouldn't be caught. This is going to make for great teenage years.
This past week has been one of Cali's "best" weeks. And I use quotation marks to show sarcasm. (I think that is understood, but adding these few more words makes the whole post seem longer, and in turn making me feel like I have written more than I actually have.)
The other day while playing together during relaxation time, (for those of you who do not know what relaxation time is, its after lunch when I get to do laundry/watch TV/look for jobs on the internet/research garden ideas/goof off/etc. and the kiddies play upstairs. Play is usually what they do in between screaming at each other.) the two of them made a whole poop-storm of a mess. Not actual poop, just a big F'ing mess. The older one blames it on the younger one and vice-versa. Long story short, they are not allowed to be freed of their mess until it is cleaned. After some time, they clean it up and all is well in the world.
The next day relaxation time again (it happens every day for sanity's sake). Laundry folded and I get to chill for a bit before I get the "Can we come down yet?" hollers from the stairs in their most angelic voices. Only this time its a little different. "Daddy, Cali's pouring water on the bed." WHAT?! It make perfect sense to pour water onto you bed if it were on fire or smoking or was a fish. But her bed was and is none of these things. So up the stairs I go to investigate The Great Waterbed Caper.
I need to preface the bed thing just a bit. Cali has been potty trained for a long time. It was recently that we kicked the pull-ups for bed and were going with gotchies a.k.a. undies. A couple of weeks prior she was a super star. Waking up dry, after us getting her up at 11 to sleepily put her on the potty. Then she regressed. One night was three sets of sheets in one night. Then it was a couple days of bed wetting. On the morning of the GWC, she was waiting for me when I came out of the shower, wet P.J.'s and all. I clean her up, clean the bed up, put the sheets in the washer, etc. Now before relaxation time, I had made her bed. She saw me do it. She witnessed the putting on of the new, non-urine smelling sheets. Mind you they were the same ones that she soiled because I work that fast!
Back to the story. So I enter the room of play to find a very wet bed and a very devilish Cali grinning. She may be a psychopath. Or she may be three. Or she's both. Well I was not pleased to say the least. There may have been some talking in loud tones, I'm not sure, but I was ready to lock her in a tower until she was 45. (Anyone got a tower I can borrow?)
The funny thing about my kids, and it may be the same for other families as well, when one is in deep do-do, the other one is overly helpful and polite. It changes from one to the other, but when it hits the fan the other one knows to be an angel. Which is nice. But why can't they just act like that all the time? So Bayly quietly and without so much as a peep cleans up the disastrous play-room while her sister is wondering if she will have the same fate as Rapunzel.
She was marooned to her tower. That was until mommy got home and freed her. Damn Price Charming. Always ruining everything and freeing the princess. I blame Disney.
Long story short, the Stay-At-Home-Dad thing is great. There is always something new to keep me on my toes. I wouldn't trade it for the world.
P.S. If anyone wants to make a sitcom of my life, let me know. I'm sure it would be amusing. And I said sitcom. None of this reality TV B.S. There's enough of that on already. I mean they have a show centered around duck calls. Whats next?
That's it. I'm done. For today. For the week. For a few months. Maybe. Maybe not.
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