June 5, 2015
Both Charles and Arthur are sticking to their strengths. Charles continues to puke and Arthur is setting his office hours at Midnight to 6am. As they say, “You ride the bull till it bucks you, or you don’t ride at all.”
I’m starting to wonder if there might be more that just an undeveloped digestive system to Charles’ inability to hold down his food. These are LA babies after all, and perhaps he has already developed an eating disorder. It can’t have escaped him that he’s pretty much 100% body fat. If he starts asking for kale, I’ll know for sure we have a problem on our hands.
His spitting up habit results in constant wardrobe changes. Again, this may be on purpose. If he and Arthur are dressed in the same outfit, there’s a chance that he’s getting stressed over the whole Star Magazine, “Who Wore It Better” effect. I don’t blame him. Who wants to look at the person rocking in the Mommaroo right next to you wondering if their All Star Slugger Onesie is more flattering for their body type.
Charles might also be hoping for some wardrobe that doesn’t set the bar so high. His clothing is almost entirely emblazoned with unrealistic expectations. “World’s Best Brother,” “Little Hall Of Famer,” “I’m Cuter Than You, Get Over It,” are a sampling of what we have him proclaiming to the world. He might be hoping he ruins enough of these until we get to clothes that say, “Take It Easy, I’m Going At My Own Pace,” or “Some Of Us Just Aren’t Built To Do A Pushup.”
Arthur decided to go into “Beat The Night” mode again last night. If he’s going to get up every 15 minutes with the expectation of some food, I understand. I’m no stranger to waking up at 2am, walking into the kitchen and grabbing a box of Fruit Loops that I eat fistfuls of while I watch Sports Center for a while. What I don’t understand is why we both can’t take advantage of that time. I’m trying my best to feed him AND channel surf for the perfect Goldie Hawn, Overboard type of vehicle to watch at this hour. He seems to think that the best technique to feed him requires that I hold him with one arm and feed him with the other while the TV is locked on…The Golden Girls.
In a year or two, he and his brother are going to own the TV in terms of what we watch. Whatever the new Dora The Explorer is, will be forced upon us at all times, but even at this young age he’s going to make me endure a steady diet of Rue McClanahan playing a sexy southern women in her 70s. Not fair. Not fair at all!
He’s not just costing me sleep at this point. He’s costing me sleep and controlling the TV. This is easily the worst thing either of my children has done to this point. Sorry, Arthur. You lose!!
Favorite of the day is…Charles.
*Someone mentioned to me that I should be charting this in terms of who the Least Favorite is, in keeping with the blog title. It’s a very good point. Glad she caught this early on. Thanks, Christine Moitoso Abernathy!
Days as Least Favorite Child
Arthur – 1
Charles – 1