Category: lil’ chino

the coming spawn

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no cohen yet

We’re still waiting.

Keaton even bent her little face into mom’s belly and asked so sweetly, “Cohen?  I’m ready for you to come out now, can you come out today?”  Already antagonizing his sister.

Tomorrow is the doctor-set induction date so, unless something happens naturally in the next twenty-four hours we’ll wake up and drive to the birth of our second child like any other appointment.  While the end result will no doubt be as amazing as it was the first time around, I do think I might miss the “event” of a non-induced labor.  (Maybe don’t tell Sharaun I said that, though, OK?)

One time-based bonus, we were able to do a massive house-cleaning after church on Sunday – something I’ve been wanting to do for weeks to make the place more “ready” for Cohen’s arrival.  I finished the new closet in his room and we dusted, vacuumed, cleaned floors, bathrooms, blinds, did laundry, the whole Cinderella gamut.

Yeah we’re ready.  Anytime Cohen, anytime.

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maybe today?

Forty weeks from an October in Mexico.

Sharaun had her final pre-due-date doctor appointment yesterday.  Doc said things are moving, but slowly.  They set next Tuesday as the date they’d induce her if Cohen is still reluctant.

I don’t think she’s all that excited about the prospect of induction and I can’t blame her, so we’re both praying for an un-hastened delivery before that.\

Maybe today?

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D-1

That’s what they called the day before Operation Neptune, the Normandy Landings.

While not quite of scale with that historic day, today is our D-1 for little Cohen.  The day that some oracular M.D. fortells the coming of our next child.  And while I’ve never really considered the due-date any real go/no-go kind of thing, it does carry with it a feeling of a “line” being crossed.  Some arbitrary boundary before which things are “on time” and after which things feel “late.”  Silly, really, but as humans we like such milestones and markers – we crave measurement.  So tomorrow is our measurement spot, as finger-in-the-wind as it may be, and we are indeed waiting for it like it means something.

And with this date so close that “walls closing in” feeling I wrote about a few days ago is only growing stronger.  It seems like each day the house actually get less and less in order.  Between me making a mess of things building a closet in Cohen’s room and just the crush of new baby-things from showers and hand-me-downs, and down to the slowed-pace of general upkeep – the place is in dire need of some cleanup.  And with the hours ticking away (even if measured against that arbitrary mark) the outlook for a nice tidy homecoming for Cohen is bleak.  On the other side of the domestic coin, work has been oppressive of late.  I don’t know why ugly management issues tend to rise up and bristle when they do – but now is not the time.  Add to that a dash of busy-as-fire and I’m close to running away.

So Cohen, I can’t wait to lose myself in your newness once you’re here.  Not because you’re my escape from this stuff, but because you’ll just add another weight on that “life” side of the work vs. life scales.  And we’re ready for you anytime: clean house, dirty house, work issues, whatever.  Take away all the deadlines and waiting and it’s just our quick and simple prayer that you’re healthy and happy – and that’s about it.

Goodnight.

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readying

Today after church I spent some time “readying.”

Readying for Cohen.  He is expected to join us in a mere ten days.  I cleared out a cupboard to make room for bottles and nipples and all manner of things we’ve not had around in years.  We moved Keaton’s dresser (now Cohen’s dresser) into the new  nursery and began loading it with the tons and tons of new and hand-me-down clothes we already have.  (Poor Keaton, her big-girl furniture is still on backorder and she’s still sleeping on the floor on her princess air mattress.)

I began wading through the gift bags still piled high from Sharaun’s showers, sorting and stowing what I could – diaper bag, baby toiletries, diapers, etc.  I took apart Keaton’s old infant carseat so we can give the insides a good washing, and I began cleaning Sharaun’s car a little before I full inherit it as my own.  Sitting here now at eleven o’clock and surveying the work, I feel a lot better.  Just small things I know, but small things that at least make me feel like I’m doing something.

Tonight Keaton came home from the first night of a five-night church program at her friend Mary Grace’s church.  Both girls seemed to have had an excellent time, and they hung out and played for a while after getting back.  After about twenty minutes of playtime, I heard what sounded like one of the girls coughing or choking.  Running back to see what was wrong I met Keaton in the hallway and she was telling me, “It was just me coughing, dad.”  She then turned and walked slowly towards the bathroom.  Before I could do anything, she was coughing and sputtering again and it all let loose.  After the first volley of vomit I was able to nudge her over the toilet bowl to catch the rest, and I stayed with her until she was done.  I got her in the bath and got the bathroom cleaned up while Sharaun said goodbye to our guests.  Poor thing has been throwing up pretty much every fifteen minutes since getting to bed – the last few just heaving, her stomach with nothing left to give; she’s resting with a large bowl at her side.

Her temperature is perfectly normal and we’re hoping it’s just something she ate

Goodnight.

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lightening up landfills

Happy Thursday internet.

I took Wednesday off too.  I’m pushing it with work and these sort of ad-hoc vacation days so I spent the first two hours of the morning clearing out the inbox and taking care of some items that just couldn’t wait.  Then again, around 3pm, I logged on and worked for an hour.  Finally once more, around 9pm, I checked mail and dispatched a couple more items on the to-do list.  So while I technically took the day off, I also managed to get a little done in the process.  Tomorrow I go back in; just too much to do to stay away again.

Tonight was a big night for Keaton.  After more than a week of dry pull-ups and mid-night trips to the potty Keaton packed off to bed in her Ariel panties alone.  It was a proud moment for her, and she wanted to go into her room to change into her pajamas without anyone knowing.  She told me, “Dad, you can’t look!  There’s a surprise with my jammies tonight that you can’t see yet!”  When she emerged from behind her closed door she had her PJ pants around her ankles and thrust middle forward, hands on her hips, saying, “See dad!?  Panties for bedtime!!”

I wrote more than six months ago about how I longed for this day, and even though I still feel like she’s “late” Sharaun and I are both holding our breath and hoping to finally be free of diapers.  Well, at least for a month; then it’s back to diapers in spades when Cohen joins us.  So… really… we’re talking about eight straight years of diapers here… if Cohen is as stubborn about nighttime as his big sister is, I guess.  It’s OK… I suppose I can deal with diapers again, and I’m still super-proud of Keaton for lightening up the landfills.

Goodnight.

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girls can like rockets

Tuesday work worked me.

After doing my usual cramming of two days into one, working through lunch as is typical these days, I decided to pack up and leave shortly after 4pm.  I wanted to leave early because I had some “work/life balance” errands I wanted to run.  Namely, it’d been far too long since I’d randomly brought home flowers and chocolate to my wife.  I also had been wanting to pick up a particular gift for Keaton for a while, and figured I could kill to birds with one stone and be cheered upon my homecoming as some benevolent springtime Santa Claus.  So I stopped and got some midrange spring arrangement and walked in with it.  They look nice, as much as my male opinion is valid here, in the vase on the kitchen table.

Prior to getting the flowers I made a stop at the local hobby shop to pickup the gift I wanted for Keaton.  See, last week I got this crazy idea that it would be fun to build, decorate, and launch a model rocket with her.  My brother and I used to do this with my dad, and I know it’s typically a “guy thing” but I thought she’d get a real kick out of it.  I bought a starter kit with all the junk one needs to blast the things into the air, and made sure to pick up a can of pink spraypaint and a purple paint marker so we can do some fancy decorating around the Disney princess stickers we’ll surely affix to it.  So yes she’s a little young,  but how cool will it be for her to do the countdown for SpacePrincess One and hit the trigger to launch it?  Then we get to chase after the thing as it drifts back down; I’m pumped.

What?  The rocket thing is just something I wanted to do and Keaton would’ve rather had a 3rd dollhouse instead?  Well… maybe so but too bad… we’re gonna father/daughter bond with this rocket.  We are!

Goodnight.

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phones with wires

Good morning internet, hope all is well with you.

Last month I downloaded the entire run of The Brady Bunch and loaded them up on the hacked Apple TV.  I did this primarily out of nostalgia, as I used to love the show when I was younger and I’ve been on an acquisition streak.  I’ve nabbed the complete Gilligan’s Island and the classic episodes of The Honeymooners and a bunch of other stuff.  And, when I fire up these vintage shows to relive some bits of my youth (or my mom’s or grandmother’s youth, depending), who do you think is right there alongside me?  Oh yeah, Ms. Keaton.  She’s such a fan of this new non-animated medium, in fact, that she can already sing the theme songs to Gilligan’s Island and The Brady Bunch.  I actually enjoy watching these “classics” with her.

I mean, as sappy as The Brady Bunch is each show does have some sort of “lesson” attached: sharing, equality, the value of money, etc.  Although it sometimes takes some explaining to get the point across… for instance, in the episode where the Bradys get a payphone installed to teach the kids a lesson both the old rotary phones and the concept of a “payphone” in and of itself are completely foreign to her.  As far as Keaton knows, telephones fit in your pocket or purse and don’t have wires or require dimes or quarters.  Talk about feeling odd, try explaining that, “In the old days, phones had cords that went into the wall and some of them needed money to work.”  I suppose it’s good that she enjoys these shows, honestly I’d have her watching this stuff over most anything on television today.

And besides, there’s almost nothing at all on any episode of Leave It To Beaver or The Andy Griffith Show I’d not mind her seeing.  Big deal if she goes into kindergarten as some sort living anachronism, right?

Goodnight.