Bronx Born Brainwashing

brain·wash: ˈbrānˌwôSH,ˈbrānˌwäSH/ (verb)gerund or present participle: brainwashing; make (someone) adopt radically different beliefs by using systematic and often forcible pressure.    “the organization could brainwash young people”

synonyms: indoctrinate, condition, reeducate, persuade, influence, propagandize, inculcate “the evidence is compelling that these cult members were indeed brainwashed”

You’ve read the above definition right? Good. Then you clearly know that my sons being Yankees fans is in no way brainwashing.  You are BORN a Yankees fan.  You aren’t made one. You bleed PINSTRIPES.  I grew up a Yankees fan because the Yankees are in my blood.  Bronx born, Pelham raised… Yankees for life… 

… so what if it takes a little NYY nightlight to help make sure my youngest is on the right side? 

It’s not brainwashing if it’s in your blood!  

Cribs: (Not MTV Style, Cribs as in an Actual Crib)

That’s it. This kid is going to be leaving for college tomorrow morning. He’s already outgrown his rock and play sleep thing. No more sleeping in the bedroom, or the family room, the swing or the basement.  

Not anymore.

LITTLE BABY OLLIE IS SLEEPING IN HIS CRIB! Christ he might as well start paying rent, it feels like he was just a newborn yesterday. 

Prison Break

So the day is here… Freaking Wentworth Miller has finally broken out of prison. I thought we’d have learned last year when he pulled himself up and over the top rope and crashed down on the floor like Shane-O-Mac flying from the top of the hell-in-the-cell.  
Apparently Houdini had other thoughts… Guess it’s almost time for a big boy bed!!!

Let’s break down the entire process: 

  1. Hmm… I bet I can get out of this thing.    
  2. Yup… I got this!  
  3. Just a little bit higher…  
  4. Ohh… Sh*t!!!  
  5. That was a terrible idea… FOR NOW! 

Little Tarzan

I remember when we went to baby class before the little man was born.  I remember learning how to swaddle and change a diaper; I remember learning how to give him a bath, but I do not in any way remember them telling us anything about him climbing out of his crib.

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Walking into his room and seeing this is like 50% scary and 50% funny as hell.  (Actually it’s more like 30 – 70).  Getting this little goober to go to sleep now just became infinitely harder.  Now he sits up plans exactly how he’s going to get mom and dad to come running into the room.  He’s playing us like a fiddle.  Climb up, cry a little, stare into the monitor and wait.  He knows it, we know it… we’re going to come and make sure he doesn’t take a swan dive onto mommy’s chevron carpet.

He loves the attention.  He loves that when he stands up he gets uber attention (not to mention the fact that we laugh and whip out our cameras.  I talked to my mom tonight and she said I used to do the same thing.  She says I need to just let him do his thing and eventually he’ll get tired of climbing up and standing.  I guess she’s right.

Here’s to another long night!

Dinner Date

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Only big boys sit at the dinner table…

Sometimes a dad’s gotta do what a dad’s gotta do. #IfYouCantBeatEmJoinEm #CribWeightLimit? #Roommates #GoToSleep #WhatEverWorks

 

PS: Truer words have never been spoken.

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#HandsomeLikeDaddy #LikeFatherLikeSon.