If I only had a blog

Narration:  Jack has been out of school for almost 10 days, and after holidays, treats, presents, visitors and being sick, he is absolutely desperate to escape this house, if not our attention.  We have been issuing more threats than usual over the past few days, and as the baby has a cold, I am absolutely on my last nerve from lack of sleep.

Me:  Jack, pick these toys up or you're going to your room for the rest of the day.
Jack:  Um, no thank you.
Me:  One....two....
Jack:  I want to live somewhere else.
Dan (muttering):  If I had a blog I would make a lone, two-word post:  "2010 sucks."

Merry Christmas!

I hope that this holiday finds everyone healthy and happy and with the ones that they love the most--their horrible families.  Just kidding, family is wonderful.  Especially family that has a great sense of humor and cooking skills, like mine.

Jack is celebrating his first cognitive Christmas this year--he has become well aware of the omniscient Santa Claus and even the religious significance of the holiday.  On the way home from school he wanted to discuss his limited knowledge: "Christmas is when God's baby was born.  What was that baby's name?"  So I had to draw on my years of Sunday school instruction to explain the miracle of Christmas, and how Jesus changed the world.  We aren't a particularly religious family, but I'd like to think that we are very spiritual, and I really wanted to impart the spirit of Christmas to this child, and explain to him that people are willing to make sacrifices to help others, and that we should feel blessed to have the opportunity to do that in our lives.  Especially with younger siblings.

End of the day

Dan:  It's time for bed.
Jack:  I need to stay up for a few huge minutes.
Dan:  Uh, no.
Jack:  BUT I'M TIRED!  I mean, I'M NOT TIRED!
Dan:  That right there is why you need to go to bed.
Jack, whining:  I need to write a book!
Dan, getting angry:  We can do that tomorrow.  Chapter 1:  My Dad was a huge dick.
Jack:  I don't want a huge dick!

Overheard (at 8am)

Dan:  Jack, tell your baby sister a story.
Jack:  ABCDeezEFGHRJKMNMOPQRessyTUVWXYandZ!
Dan:  She likes it.
Jack:  I know.  This is a crazy family.
Dan:  ...OK.
Jack:  Dad, I have to tell you sumpin.  I like apple pie, pumpkin pie, but NOT peach pie.  The baby doesn't like peach pie either.

Conversation

Sydney's...girth, for lack of a better word, is the #1 topic of conversation whenever we're out in public. North Carolina is famous for it's relentless friendliness, and add a baby to that mix and you have a recipe for hours of conversations with strangers about your enormous infant. I have had the following conversation approximately 500 times in the last 2 months...and today it got a little ugly.

Scene: At the pediatrician's office, in the waiting room, two cranky ladies sit waiting for over 40 minutes.

Sydney: Waaahhh! (loosely translated to "What the f*ck is taking so long!?!?")
Receptionist, who has watched us sitting here for 40 minutes: Wow, she is mad!
Me: Yep.
Receptionist: She sure is big!
Me: Mmmhmm.
Receptionist: How old is she?
Me: 10 weeks.
Receptionist: Holy cow! What do you feed her?
Me: Plutonium.
Receptionist: Oh.

They call me the YES man.

We're continually trying to instill some respect for elders into Jack (which is pretty laughable coming from me, but I do try). This includes using "Yes Sir" and "Yes Ma'am." Today after dinner he asked politely to be excused. As I was talking to Dan, I didn't answer him right away, so he continued, a little louder. "Wessman! Can I please get down now?" I replied in the affirmative, but I was a little puzzled over why he was calling me Wessman...do I have some Swedish heritage that I was unaware of?

I finally figured out that he hasn't been saying, "ma'am," but "man." So coupled with his trouble with Y sounds, he thinks he is supposed to call me "Wessman." How confusing (and stupid) life in this house must seem to a 4-year old.

The cries, THE CRIES

We have settled in to parenting another being quite well, despite my increasing gray hairs.  They are multiplying faster than Dan's video-game collection.  But I digress...

Sydney the Giant has developed a sophisticated system of conveying her feelings non-verbally.  She has three distinct cries.  Allow me to elaborate in the form of a list!

• Cry #1:  I'm very tired from not napping ALL DAY.  Please take pity on me and walk around carrying my huge body until I fall asleep.

• Cry #2: (the most frequently heard cry) I'm starving!  This is not melodrama!  I am clearly dying of hunger! I am about to expire!!!  Put something, anything, in my mouth, pronto!

• Cry #3: (mostly heard in the evening, and in the tone of Cruella DeVille) OK, I understand that you guys have forgotten EVERYTHING you know about being parents, but I clearly have an unidentified problem and you need to solve it...IMMEDIATELY!!!  YOU IDIOTS!!!!  YOU IMBECILES!!!  FIX ME!!!  I HATE YOU!!!