June 8, 2015
Every parent looks forward to the day their child utters their first word. Odds are it’s going to be Dada or Momma, but it’s still pretty exciting to hear and realize you’re beginning the phase of verbal communication. It usually doesn’t happen for several months, but I guess one of my kids is very advanced because I heard his first word loud and clear. I’m not sure which one said it because my back was turned, in the midst of a daring double diaper change, but the word was clear as day and it was said with malice. One of these kids called me a pussy!
It might have been my reaction to the tonnage they had deposited in their diapers. It was overwhelming and gave me pause. But they clearly aren’t aware of what courage truly is. It’s moving forward despite feeling overwhelming fear and that’s just what I did.
I suspect it was Arthur who said it but there’s no way to prove it. He’s had a beef with me since I gave him the pink swaddle and Charles the blue. They only had one blue one at the store. When I bought the pink one, I remember the woman at the counter giving me the stink eye and asking, “So, you’re going to get a pink one for the other boy”? I told her I was relatively sure that a two week old baby wasn’t going to hold a grudge or suffer gender identification issues. I was willing to roll the dice.
My wife and I like a little adventure. We even considered getting just ONE of them circumcised to see what questions we might field from the boys ten years down the road.
Of course it could have been Charles. The look he gives me when I’m trying to feed him a bottle pretty much says, you suck when it comes to giving me the head support I need. Charles doesn’t just cry. He cries the cry of the betrayed. The look on his face tells me that he believes I have failed to meet even the basest of his needs. In his mind, he’s pretty sure that all he’s asking for his food, sleep and a little quiet alert time, and if I can’t get with the program, there are plenty of guys that the woman with the feeding mounds on her chest can find to take my place.
Let’s get to the race for Least Favorite.
Charles continues to lose points for emotional outbursts and total lack of regard for keeping his clothing puke free. He scores when it comes to remaining in a blissful state during the evening hours in a partially formula stained onesie.
Arthur’s sleep habits are pretty much making us his bitch. It kind of makes him suspect #1 when it comes to who called me the P word. I know he revels in my late night whimpering every time I get up to take him out to the living room for a feed.
Least Favorite Child on Saturday June 6 – Arthur
Least Favorite Child on Sunday, June 7 – Arthur
And if Arthur’s losing sleep over his standing it’s occurring between the hours of Midnight to 6:30am, and he’s taking me down with him.
Total Days as Least Favorite Child
Arthur – 3 Days
Charles – 1 Day