Another business trip out of the way.

As I work my way slowly up the corporate ladder, I find myself having to hop in a plane in the name of business more often. First trip was out to Seattle and the second trip was to Vegas.

I love to travel and see new places and absorbing all of the sites and sounds that are not familiar to me. On top of that, I absolutely love to fly. Ever since I was a little wee lad I have been completely fascinated with airplanes and flying. Before my vision went to crap, I wanted to join the Air Force and be a fighter pilot. Alas, I'm blind as a bat, so commercial "fighters" will have to do just fine.

There is just one small issue when flying for business.

I'm alone.

Oh I may have a few co-workers with me and I know that I will always have plenty to do while at my destination necessitating my businessness (oh yeah, I just made that up), but when all is said and done, the bed just isn't as warm without my wife next to me and my child relatively close.

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Technology is really awesome in how it just explodes. Take for instance that I am writing this blog post while travelling over 600mph at a leisurely 41,000 feet above the very solid earth. I also love the fact that I am and can always be connected to my family, even if it is through a digital medium.

However, it's a double edged sword.

I'm sitting at a conference and my phone does it's little vibraty thing. I pick it up because I'm in the midst of fighting fires at work and dreading the update from the product manager (or is it project manager... I always forget). But there is no email, there is a message from my wife - it's a picture message. I first read the caption and see "Cheese DaDa" only to see the picture load to punch me in the emotional daddy face. There is my beautiful little girl with the cutest grin.

My first reaction is "awwww", but immediately follows the, "Holy crap I miss them."

I never used to be a HUGE sappy face, but three things in life have progressively changed that.

1. Almost getting my head blown off.

2. Getting married.

3. Having a child.

Since those three things happened I tend to wear a few more of my emotions on my sleeve.

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Imagine if you will, thousands of alpha males all getting their nerd on, absorbing all the knowledge and information they can... and my sappy ass is fighting back tears in the 10th row.

Yeah... it was that awesome.

Happy New Year - Let's get busy!

I know I'm coming in a solid 18 days late, but Happy New Year!

Before I start firing off about the specific thoughts in my head, I would like to take a small moment and go over how you should pronounce the current year. If you have read this somewhere else, please feel free to skip to the next section. However, if you're one of those people who isn't quite sure how to say the current year when speaking to others, please take a moment and indulge yourself in this community service message.

We have grown accustomed to saying "Two-Thousand and..." for the past nine years. If you shortened it, I'm sure you've said, "Oh [number]" as in "Oh-nine". This, however, should be erased from your memory for the next 90 years.

To start, I'd like you to say out loud (or in your head if you're in the office and people would think you a freak.) (unless they already do... then out loud is fine) (and probably expected)(... freak)

1810

How did you say it? Probably "Eighteen Ten", which is exactly the correct way of saying it. Let's try another:

1910

Now how did you say that one? If you said "Nineteen Ten" then you're doing great. Let's do one more:

2010

This one is tricky. If you said, "Two Thousand and Ten" then I should smack you in your little melon head. Why in god's name would you purposely add 2 extra syllables to the pronunciation of the current year?

The correct way to say this year is: "Twenty Ten". Look at that amazingness! Only 3 syllables and a consistency through the ages.

Now you won't look like a colossal douche-bag when you say the date to your friends.

You're welcome.

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But that really isn't the point of today's post...

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Let's all beat the crap out of our kids.

Straight up!

Punishment is never a fun topic to talk about, especially with friends. We all have our own ways and our differing opinions on the topic and sometimes it even gets to the level of religion or politics when the discussion comes up in a group setting.

I like the generalize the crap out of people (helps my little mind understand oddities), so I've come up with a list (squeee!) of the typical groupings of parents with their ideas of punishment.

- The "my child is an angel" parent.

No, no your kid is not. All kids are hellions with spacklings of cute. I've seen your kid scream and cry when he doesn't get his way. What you're doing is raising a child who is destined to victimize themselves throughout life and demand that all things should be handed to them while in turn they think that they are flawless.
Expert Level: Your child is a full blown narcissist.

- The "if I ignore it, it goes away" parent.

Go ahead, turn the TV up louder. If you can't hear it, it must not exist. Maybe stay at work extra late so you don't have to deal with it when you get home since they'll be asleep. Turn your back in the store and pretend that it's someone else's kid (pretty sure the clinging to your pant leg is a total give-away though). Your child will be lucky if they grow up at all.
Expert Level: You leave your kid at the store.

- The "my child fell down the stairs" parent.

Calling DCFS, calling DCFS, coming DCFS - we have a "person" who isn't worth the dirt I walk on. In all seriousness, if you've ever purposely and intentionally hurt your child to the point of injury, consider not being a parent anymore, cause I'm pretty sure I just stopped considering you a human.
Expert Level: Let's not go there.

- The "threaten with no follow through" parent.

Now this one I see a lot of, and I understand that you have to pick your battles wisely, but I'm focusing on the parents that ONLY punish this way. Maybe it's the hope that the threat will be enough to properly train a child. Here's a little news flash: It's not. Kids are smart. Wicked freaking smart. And they can totally tell when you're full of shit. Then, they'll start manipulating situations so that you threaten them, and they play "hurt", and then they still get their way. You're training your child that warnings in life don't apply to them.
Export Level: "High Voltage" signs excluded your child.

- The "emotional rage" parent.

These are also pretty common (at least when I was growing up it was common). The child (remember, they're all hellions) goes off and does something sassy or stupid that really pisses you off. Then, in the whirlwind of rage you fly off the broom handle you rode in on and unleash the fury of pent-up aggression from all aspects of life through a wooden spoon or a belt or the hand soap in the bathroom.
Export Level: Screaming and anger no longer faze your child.

Obviously this is satirical...

... but I'm sure we've all crossed the borders of some of these here and there.

I have this feeling, though, that the general thought of discipline and punishment is becoming more of a taboo and I can't help but feel a little sad about that. Why WOULDN'T you punish your child? To not punish your child for their stupid and out of line actions only exacerbates the pussification of America. I don't know if you've noticed but we've become some pretty hard-core sissies lately.

Humans are stubborn to learn and quick to forget.

Think about the times in your life when your outlooks and views and actions throughout life really changed. During that period of change, was it emotionally easy? No, probably not. The emotionally and psychological turmoil was, no doubt, the reason for the change. But kids to don't the "hard-knock" life, as they say. They don't have bill collectors knocking down their door, or the lawman watching their every move. They don't have great responsibility to get food on the plate and shelter over the head. They pretty much play, eat, sleep, and poop... and if you're lucky to have an older kid - go to school.

That is what discipline is for... to, in a small way, create emotional and psychological turmoil in their own heads so that they don't do that dumbass thing anymore. But you have to understand that the turmoil is not going to be something you create, it has to be created in their head so that it burns an image onto their memory. As a parent, what you have to do is create a situation in which that turmoil gets conjured by them.

It's age specific too. Any kind of punishment or discipline for a 6 month old is a waste... they don't have the mental capacity to understand any sort of reasoning behind your actions. A full on spanking for a 1.5 year old is pretty worthless because they don't have the mental capacity to understand what the meaning behind the swat is. They can't create the turmoil from the action - all they create from that is fear. But a timeout - a removal of what they want to do - that creates turmoil. Spankings for a 3 year old actually mean something, because they "get it" and why you're doing it.

But it's not easy...

I recently gave my 1.5 year old a timeout. And she cried a mournful little wail from the timeout step that she was sitting on. Not only had I removed her from the situation she was in (I believe it was pulling all the DVDs off the shelf to create a little musical tap dance stage), but, to her, I had also abandoned her as I was walking away.

I hate that cry. I hate it because I know I'm the one who created the situation for her to feel smitten. But I'll never stop disciplining her for the things she shouldn't do. I would be doing her a disservice and ultimately taking away the opportunity for her to be a better person as she grows up.

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Look at me writing like I actually know what I'm talking about. Maybe someone needs to spank me... anyone?... anyone? I need spankings!

Not All Posts Have to Be Long

Pffffffft. You call those Jazz Hands?

I'm really just passing time right now while I get over the fact that what I've been working on is still "in discussion".

Ah, the life of a software developer. Expected to go forth and produce the most amazing piece of software to the exact needs for all clients and managers everywhere and to meet and exceed all expectations.

Oh... and get it done before the due date and make sure it contains all of the specifications. You know, those specifications THAT HAVEN'T EVEN BEEN DECIDED ON YET!

Oh yeah. It's that awesome.

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Beep Beep Beep Beep

I've been pondering a "plan B" lately. You know, the "if I wasn't doing this, what would I want to do?" question that we all ask ourselves. I'm a software engineer and I really do love computers and knowing the ins and outs of software development, but really... sometimes the stress is just way more then it should be.

I realize that a lot of this stress is self induced while I try to maintain a day job and start up my own business and making sure that I'm a good family man. So would plan B even offer any relief?

Ponder. Ponder. Ponder.

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Day Care

Isabella has 99% decided that she is going to head back into the work force. I can tell she's being super strong about the change, but being her husband I know that internally she's conflicted with the goods and the bads. Just because the "goods" may outweigh the "bads" doesn't make the bads any easier to handle.

I'm proud of her decision - and I told her that the decision was all hers. It's not like we need it financially, but I can also tell that she's starting to get a little stir crazy and wanting to feel more apart of the financial success of this family - as well as furthering her knowledge and expertise in a field that she enjoys. Sewing can only offer so much "success" feeling. There is something to be said about working for a company where you are treated in a way that let's you know you are contributing to the success of the organization.

I think she misses that. I'm glad and proud that she's doing what she thinks is best for her.

This... however... has introduced us to the world of day care. Since "B", our best friend, godmother, nanny - watched Niamonster when Isabella worked part time at the beginning, and then Isabella being a stay at home mom - we've never had to look around for day care options. But we feel that Niamonster is old enough to start hanging out on her own (well... supervised but not by us) and expanding her social skills without mommy and daddy to always cling to.

We'll see how this goes.

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Sucker!

I am pretty excited that this means that Niamonster will be all mine in the morning. Sure, it's great having Isabella around all the time, but having her as a SAHM means that daddy doesn't get much one on one time. With this new situation I'll be getting up with the kiddo, dressing her for the day, driving her to and picking her up from the day care. Hearing all the stories about how good (or bad) she was and what they did during the day.

Oh yeah. So awesome.

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I will for sure keep all posted on how things are going with the day care/work/dad is awesome things in life.

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Day Care Yay! / or / Day Care Nay.

Wackey Wedhursday - What?

Happy Wedhursday

Why? Why Wedhursday? Because I started writing this post yesterday and am finishing it today... that's why. So to my online posting persona I am actually transcending the space time continuum and spanning my existence over a time frame which includes both Wednesday and Thursday. 

And you thought you were just reading a weirdo's blog. 

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Straight up now tell me do you really wanna love me forever (oh oh oh)

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Now that you have that song stuck in your head... Let's continue and talk about something gross. 

Girl

Nope. Not my daughter. Not some random female. But... that. Call it whatever you want... Aunt Flo, Periodicals, Girl... all the same thing. Well, with the onslaught of Niamonster, Isabella hasn't had to deal with it in the first person, and I haven't had to deal with it in the third person in a very long time. 

Isabella got preggo sometime in July of 07. From July of 07 until March of 09 we really hadn't had to deal with it. 

Well... she's back. Can't say I really missed her. 

Though, for all you guys out there... dealing with the hormonal crazies from pregnancy gives a whole new "gentler" light on the girly-crazies. They just don't seem so crazy anymore. 

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New Domain!

Being the dork that I am, I have an entire business class network setup in our house. Domain controllers, DNS servers, routers, switches, etc. You'd think I ran a small business out of my home or something.

Well, with the glorious purchase of 2 new dual 2.6ghz Xeon servers I decided it was time to re-setup the domain since I kinda botched the first one. (Single name domains aren't very friendly)

So I stayed up till 2am last night switching things over from my old server to the new ones, and by the time I went to bed I had gotten rid of the B**** domain (starred cause it's my last name... and let's be honest you know I don't write real names here) and started up the tarkus.shankrabbit.com domain. Tarkus meaning "wisdom" in Estonian. 

Why Estonian?

Because I'm weird, that's why.

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My daughter has taken a liking to dirt. Isabella already wrote about it so you should head over there and read up somes. 

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This weekend can't come soon enough. I'm bushed. 

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Finally, I know I haven't mentioned it much - but Busy-Dad-E, I should be finishing up the song this weekend. You know... the song you won... so long ago. 

I haven't forgotten. 

I never do. 

Fatherhood Friday - It's the way she laughs

What is it about the laughter? How could anyone have a bad day when a toddler pops open that half-toothy/half-gummy grin and starts giggling like all of the giggles are going away tomorrow?

I know I can't have a bad day with that. 

Happy Fatherhood Friday to all the awesome dads out there. The dads who spend time with their children and make a huge effort to be a giant part of their lives. The dads who treat their wives (or husbands) with respect so that their little ones learn what true love is through observing your actions. 

Here is my nod, fist pump, or hug (yes, I'm a total hugger) to you. Because at the end of a long week - you deserve it. 

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Let's talk about...

The baby itch.

I see where it comes from. I'm not saying I'm condoning or even thinking about it right now. All I'm saying is that I am starting to understand why so many couples have kids so close together. 

Niamonster is 1 year old now.

(Total aside that has nothing to do with this... have I even ranted about how I hate telling people months past a year old? I don't tell you that I'm 320 months old. I want to give you her age... not a math problem.)

Uh... Oh yeah so Niamonster is 1 year old and since turning that blessed year old she has decided that she wants to drink almost all liquids out of a straw, she wants to walk, she wants to talk with big people words, and she wants to feed herself. 

Try to do any of this for her and you have just cursed yourself with a little girl's temper tantrum. Gee... I have no idea where this "do it yourself and don't help me" mentality came from...

... it must have been her mom.

She's so grown up.

She's a toddler now. She's less like the little cute adorable cuddly mooshy goo-poosh... and more like a whiny screaming scratching howler monkey. Still really cute, but you've got to catch her first.

You get really used to having that little ball of foof just hanging out in her little rocker chair as she tries to reach up and swat at the little hanging toys. Remember the good old days when you used to cheer when she pulled the ring and the song played. Now you can't get her to stop pressing those *** **** buttons on that ******* Winnie the Pooh train!! 

There in lies my "enlightening" as to why so many parents have multiple children so close in age. You WANT that cute little baby back. Having a baby means constant needs, love, attention, love, cuddling, needs, and love. 

Having a toddler means, "hey.. no...come back here, please love me STOP SQUIRMING AWAY! I'm just trying to hold you. Where are you going now?... AGH! NO! Don't touch... what? what did you just baby-say to me? Are you cussing me out? I may not be able to understand your words but I sure know when I'm getting cusse... don't put that in your mouth... yes I'm talking about that. I can still see it in your hand. Yes, that piece of paper... I see it... don't put that... no... don't d... AGH! Stop crawling away you're going to choke on it... ugh... ISABELLA!!!!"

Still not going to have one so soon.

For as big as a pain as she can be (grumble grumble miss independent)... I still love every single minute that I spend with her... I mean... Come on... this is awesome!

Meaningful Monday - Happy Tears... Really

I once had a baby and people called me a freak.

Yup. That's right. People told me I was a freak when I told them I had a baby. This baby came into my life in March 2005. My first new car. A 2005 MINI Cooper S. I named her Claire. 

I remember being quite timid about the whole process. I was fresh out of college and I landed a very nice job straight out. I wasn't tied down to any sort of girlfriend or stuck to any responsibility. It was just me. I was making plenty of money and I wanted my dream car. 

I asked my father to join me in this process because he was, and still is, the one guy I look up to for everything in life. I remember sitting at the dealership and picking out options skipping over some just because they would be "nice to have" but not necessary. 

My dad stopped me as I skipped over the upgraded stereo system. 

"Son, this is your dream car. Make it yours."

So I did. Every little thing about her was exactly what I wanted. At the time it was well within my budget and fit my lifestyle to a T.

April 05

I started chatting more with the most amazing girl in the world. She loved Claire as much as I did and we spent countless hours simply driving around and purposely getting lost. My wife, at the time, lived in Chicago so Claire and I spent many nights driving back and forth between our cities. Things got more and more serious with Isabella and I until eventually...

"It's a huge get together for MINI Owners"

Along came MINIs on the Dragon (or MOTD). MOTD is an extended weekend where MINI owners from all over the country gather at Deals Gap, TN at a road called the Tail of the Dragon. 311 curves in 11 miles... and we're not talking about your sissy curves either. MINIs, known for their amazing handling, tear up the dragon like it's nothing. 

Isabella and I planned a trip in 2006 to head down to MOTD and chum it up with a lot of MINI owners that we had met online. 

Little did she know that the purpose of me wanting to go to MOTD had nothing to do with MINIs. 

On May 5th, 2006, I got down on one knee and asked her to stay by my side forever. (You can read even more about it here.)

We went back the next year and got to know even more cool people, and hooked up with the Milwaukee MINIs too.

I would spend lots of free time thinking of little home-brew things I could do to her. Connecting an aftermarket amplifier without rewiring the whole car, hooking up an AUX input without buying the expensive add-on, even doing tests with different air diverter designs. 

I also spent lots of extra money on her too. Upgraded engine bits, new brake systems, etc. When I wasn't spending money on Isabella or necessities - it usually went to the Claire fund. 

I had always told people that I was going to hang on to her until she pooped out, which with as ridiculously anal I was about keeping her clean and in good healthy shape - was going to be a long time. 

funny how my plans aren't always what's best.

April 19, 2008

My life got flipped upside down. Everything that I was came to a sudden halt and I no longer cared about me, it was all about her. 

I'm not talking about Claire anymore... I'm talking about her.

My baby. My actual baby. There was no purchasing agreement. There was no picking out my options. There was just her big blue eyes struggling to stay open while getting used to a world that was so bright. 

My money. My life. My Everything. Is Yours.

Suddenly I was finding myself enthused about something totally different. I was (and still am) constantly excited about being a father. Constantly trying to find new ways to better myself and connecting with people that have similar interests in being good dads. I went from North American Motoring to Dad-Blogs. I went from Helix Minisports to Baby's-R-Us. 

Suddenly there was no longer a Claire fund, it was replaced with the Niamonster fund. 

So why am I paying for you anymore.

It hit me a month ago and I've been thinking about it ever since. Isabella and I don't live outside of our means... we live right at them. Rarely is there a month where we are socking away savings. And that's bad. 

It especially hit me with Isabella's latest "unknown" with her medical condition. (If you read her blog... which you should... you know what I'm talking about.) I was thinking about what would happen if suddenly we had huge medical bills or some other act of unknown that would hit us with a big financial burden?

While pondering finances I looked out my window and into the garage... and I saw Claire. I have a weird love for that car... but not as much love as I have for my family. 

I knew it was time to let go.

I had to say goodbye. It made absolutely no sense to pay as much as I am a month for that car loan when it is nothing more then a machine that gets me to and from work (and the occasional date night). There are so many things that I want to save for... and buy right now for my family. I want a big fat down payment on a house... I want a car seat that works better for Niamonster... I want to look at my finances every month and not have to "juggle" sometimes. I want another kid sometime in the not so distant future.

Niamonster deserves it. 

The quickest and best way is to sell Claire. 

You know it's best. You feel it's best. It still sucks.

Wussy mode engaged. This weekend wasn't easy. I spent a lot of the nice hours of the day washing and waxing her to a super shine. Cleaning her interior twice over. Making sure everything is in tip top shape. I took pictures. I wrote up a description. 

I held Isabella's hand, said a little prayer to the big guy upstairs and clicked "Publish".

http://milwaukee.craigslist.org/cto/1153163999.html

The Moral of the Story is...

I guess I wrote this for 3 reasons. (I need a list to make me feel better.)

1. Therapy - I know that sometimes talking or writing about a difficult thing makes coping and coming to terms with it easier. So you just subjected yourself to my therapy session - you're like my shrink only you just did it for free.
2. Moral - It's not a sacrifice if it's something you want to do. There is no need to hang on to past things if you know that it's only going to impede the better future things. I always have to remind myself that I'm only 26. I often times forget that and think that I'm way older.
3. Know anyone who wants to buy an awesome car? (You knew it was coming.)

I'd do anything for this family.

And if selling what was once my passion means good things for my family - then I'd do it a million times over. 

This is my passion. This is my life.

What else could I ever want?

Have Friends. Get Music. - Thursday

Welcome New Friends!

What is this Have Friends. Get Music. contest, you ask? Read about it here.

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Contest Update!

First off... people... this is a contest... and Liz is DOMINATING! Good job so far Liz!

Name	Comment Entries	Friend Entries	Total
Alix	1	0	1
Andrew's Daddies	1	0	1
Apok	1	0	1
Busy-Dad-E	1	0	1
Call Me Cate	2	0	2
Ciara	2	0	2
Jeff	1	0	1
Jim and Garret	2	0	2
Joanie M	2	0	2
Liz	3	10	13
Mary Ellen	1	0	1
Nbauer	1	0	1
Otter Thomas	3	0	3

Here are 3 easy steps to give Liz a run for her money (not that I don't want you to win, Liz, but I do love me some competition)

1. Make a post on your blog about how awesome it would be to have a song written just about you.
2. At the end of the post tell your readers they can make your dream a reality just by coming to my blog and referring you. 
3. Tell your readers that they too could have a song written about them by repeating steps 1 through 3 and have them reference both you AND themselves. (double points!)

See? Easy. It's like a pyramid scheme... but for a little slice of awesome!

Also, some reminders. (we'll go unordered this time... Mmm. Lists.)

• Drawing is still randomly chosen, however the more entries you have the more likely you'll win. 
• Comments are only allowed on the day of the post. I am disabling comments on previous days so no one cheats. Though, Joanie M. snuck past that one the first day (sneaky girl, you).
• References only count once for 2 entries.

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I can't believe how tough it is to post everyday of the week. I thought the 3 times a week thing was tough... this is brutal. So painful that I'm half tempted just to copy the Apache server configuration text that I'm working on right now... doesn't that sound like an awesome read?

But alas, I would not do that to you... so instead I shall talk about nothing at all. Just pictures from a recent photoshoot with my Niamonster.

1.

2.

3.

4.

5.

6.

7.

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Which one is your favorite?

Meaningful Monday - Spoiled

I'm starting to have this fear. It's been haunting me for a while but I've always been able to justify it by convincing myself that she just doesn't know any better. 

However, that justification is wearing very thin and there are more and more tell-tale signs that she knows exactly what she is doing. 

Could she be a spoiled brat?

We haven't done much in the way of true punishment or discipline because we've always read and heard that the baby doesn't understand it and can easily take it as "negative love". While I understand that she's only just a year old, I look into her eyes and see this often time devious little munchkin. 

How do I know? Because... she's devious like I'm devious. 

Sometimes I just want to scream!

What good does that do? None. But even if it did, would it really effect her? "Niamonster! No!" and she just slyly looks at me and continues about to the bad thing she was doing? 

Or when she doesn't get her way... oh lord help me... It's not just the big things either... I'm talking about little things like not wanting to go into her car seat or not wanting to sit when she wants to stand. Examples like this lead to all out scream fests. 

Which is odd. 

It's odd because I have a really cute baby, and really cute babies are supposed to be cute. Not little spawns of evil!

So when do you start?

When is "ignoring it" starting to be detrimental to her well being? When should reprimands and spankings make their way into her life? (flame war on spankings anyone?)

If you are a parent of an older child, I need your help!

1. When they were Niamonster's age were they snotty?

2. When did you start discipline?

Wacky Wednesday 6 - Self Tanning

Normally I'm pretty skitzo when it comes to posting on Wednesday. But today, readers, I will astound and amaze you with...

A Consistent Topic

(*gasp*)

Today's story revolves around my daughter and her delightful experimentation with self tanning solution. You know, the summer months are just around the corner and it's really tough for a girl these days to have to be in public with that beautiful winter sheen (and by "sheen" I mean blindingly pale). So who am I to judge a girl who wants to have a nice bronze tone for the first days of spring?

Oh. 

That's right. I'm her dad. Oh yeah... and my daughter is 11 months old. 

Obviously I'm not about to let my 11 month old have actual bronzing solution, so like her father, she went and improvised. I'm not going to lie - I'm proud as heck. I would have chosen something a little less chunky, but hey - for an 11 month old... not too bad. 

BEHOLD!

Makeshift tanning solution!

For those of you who know Gerber's Vegetable beef, you know this crap stains... and stains good! Clothes, baby skin, adult skin, the cat, the dog, the floor... you name it. Instant orange is the destiny of all things who befall this solution of so called "edible" paste.

She was very sneaky about application. This consisted of strategically placed games of "peek-a-boo" in which the "boo" would come at the precise moment my spoon was travelling on its merry way to her mouth. This resulted in her hands smacking into the spoon which allowed her to prepare herself for the next "peek" stage. The "peek" stage was always precision timed for when I was reloading the aforementioned spoon, thus, applying the wonderful bronzing solution to her delicate skin. 

As you can see below, she made sure to repeat this process several times for maximum and even coverage.

After the first application. Still needs a little more rubbing to smooth out the texture.

It takes a minute to realize that is NOT her natural skin tone. If you look right by her eyes you'll see her natural tone is far more pink.

Look at the glow! That shine! She's alive with energy and clearly is visiting this silly state from such awesome, sunshiney states like California or Florida. She's cool, she's hip, her dad let's her do whatever she wants!

As much as I love my daughter's independence and her wonderful ability to make adult decisions on her own, this clearly was not going to fly the rest of the night. You see... there is this lady that lives with us who doesn't understand what it's like to be pale. Her heritage keeps her skin tone at a nice "sand" in the winter, and a dark bronze in the summer. I guess that's what happens when African American heritage smashes together with Native American and Sicilian. (and about 14 other ethnicities). 

Well, because this lady, who I guess we can just call "Isabella" for now, doesn't empathize with us whitey-whites, she decided that the bronze was coming off. 

You can imagine Niamonster's face when she realized that she might lose her natural looking tan. Oh... wait... you don't have to imagine - I took a picture of it!

"Oh crap oh crap of crap"!

All that hard work. All those hours of planning and preparation. Learning "peek-a-boo", practicing fine motor skills, growing hair... all these things led up to this wonderful day and now this heartless wench called "mom" is going to ruin it all. 

This could only be fought one way. 

Screaming.

If she was any older I'm pretty sure there would have been of Isabella's blood in these pictures.

Angry Baby, is clearly angry. Someday when she's older she'll use this against us. (or maybe I'll use it against her... and show her BOYFRIEND!)

DO YOU SEE THE PAIN!? I'M WHITE AGAIN! I'M PALE WISCONSIN WHITE!

Oh. The fun.

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So I thought the fun for the night was over... clearly I was wrong. 

Niamonster has her favorite stuffed toy which was given to her as a gift by her grandmother who adores her more then anyone could ever imagine. This stuffed toy's name is Eebee. Perhaps you've heard of him... her... it... whatever. It's a "baby-like" toy that has it's own DVDs and acts like a baby and learns and plays all in the name of education.

Well if there was ever any doubt that Niamonster is my blood... it is 100% gone. This kid is the pure spawn of me and I realized this as Isabella was finishing up Niamonster's bath. 

I looked down into her crib and... what the... are his... 

Oh. Yeah. They are.

11 months old and already pulling down boys pants. Jesus.

Looks like I'll be attempting to have the "birds and bees" talk with her tomorrow. 

I thought I would have had more time.

Wacky Wednesday

Multiple people have made fun of me for the number of blogs I currently maintain. Jokes usually fall in between the "you need more friends" to "you are a nerd", and even to the point of, "you're not allowed to make any more posts until you hang out with normal people". What makes this rich is that 60% of those people have since then started their own personal blogs. 

Talk about the pot calling the kettle chartreuse.

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My wife is sitting next to me in bed right now. She just leaned to the side, dropped a big stinky fart with a giant shit eating grin and said, "Look hunny, I'm contributing to your post."

Yes, dear. Yes you are.

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You ever stay at work so long that you start to get silly beyond belief? Working in the wonderful world of web application development, you can't just deploy your application at anytime you want. You have to do it when the least amount of people are hitting the site. This is so that just in case you muck something up, the fewest number of people are effected. 

Monday was a big deployment day. The day started as any other, with polite office style conversations and happy thoughts. By the end of the night we were singing 80's music, playing guitar hero like idiots, and laughing about the stupidest stuff. 

Deployment -> success.

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Niamonster figured out she can crawl side ways today. She put her spoon on the middle of the floor tonight and was circling around it repetitively like she was tied to a pole by a string. I'm surprised she didn't make herself hurl. 

That would have been awesome to cleanup. 

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Finally, I like to buy random things on ebay here and there. Mostly computer parts that allow me to stay close enough to the "latest" tech crap without destroying my bank account. Usually items I receive from auctions are in a box or some other sort of obvious packaging. 

Yesterday I received a package that was completely wrapped in Sunday's coupons and clear packing tape. 

It was the awesomest package ever.

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(Sub-finally. I just laughed that Blogspot tried to spell correct "awesomest" with "Awesome St." Someday I want to live there or at least drive on it.)