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I’ve discussed this before, but I’m not sure I’ve actually seen one in real life before… “THE POO PELLET” as it’s commonly called (sometimes referred to by its Latin name the “Caca Pellet”).  

When taking off the diaper of a child it is nessesary to take things slow and keep your head on a swivel, keep everything in front of you and have soft hands… Just like fielding a ground ball at first base.  

If you don’t, like I didn’t, then the poo pellet is bound to squirt away… an E3… Before you know it it’s dribbling away under the table and out the door… Just like the “On Top of Spaghetti Song.”   

I implore you to be careful when you open that diaper… Don’t follow my lead.  Be better than Bill Buckner.  Be better than me.  Keep that Poo Pellet in front of you at all times! 

http://youtu.be/LwUSz6ZL5OU

Poopie the Snowman

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I was never really a snowman kinda kid.  I was more of a snow fort and snowball fight kinda guy.  But the snowman is a right of passage, its a staple in the northeast, its what sets apart the men from the boys.  Jax has been out in the snow before, but he hasn’t had the honor of meeting one of the famous snowmen made by dad… and none of that Olaf crap… I’m talking the real snow man that uses sticks for arms and a carrot for a nose and poop for eyes…

…wait… what?  

Yup.  My kid’s first snowman and I used dog poo for the snowman’s eyes.

I feel awful but, I am sure he won’t remember.  There is a time for keeping things simple and this was that time.  I wasn’t about to go find some coal.  Who even has coal around these days?  I mean I guess if you had a steam train running through your backyard… then maybe you might have some coal laying around… but not us.  This family is all about using what is available to you… and there is an abundance of poo in the front yard these days.

I think Jax liked his snowman friend.

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Peter Venkman, PhD.

Today you can call me Peter Venkman, because the poop I that I just fought with was of supernatural proportions. It was everywhere… It was Slimer green… It was unearthly.

I actually had to use the Ghostbusters Ghost Trap to dispose of it once I was done with the struggle of corralling it. Here’s video footage of the event:

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On a serious note though. If anyone knows where I can get one of these please, let me know!

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Inappropriate, Not if We’re Guys… Right?

Boobs, fart, wiener, butt… Uhhh words that make me laugh for a 100 Alex. As I’m writing that first sentence I literally asked Stef what words make laugh when I hear them and when she said poop I was cracking up. I’m not inappropriate, I’m just a guy. I’m a guy who happens to also be a dad… and dads have sons and sons do funny things that are inappropriately funny.

I’m just not sure when it’s ok to laugh. If I’m with my buddies and someone farts, I laugh. It’s a guy thing (mind you I was raised to be respectful and in general I am). But now I have a son whom I need to be a role model for. As he grows he will inevitably do things and say things that are inappropriate, but that will also be funny.

Tonight was a prime example of what I’m talking about. Let me set the stage: Mom and I are out to dinner at a nice, small restaurant that we’ve been to enough were the people there know us. We are seated and notice Auntie Sue sitting across the room. She promptly comes over and scoops up little Jackson giving Mom and I a few needed minutes to chat and eat by ourselves. Until… Auntie Sue and Jax turn the corner and we see this:

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Full on hand down the shirt boob grab. I’m now in hysterics. Mom has turned as red as the marinara on her pasta, but I can’t stop laughing. Inappropriate, yes. Funny as hell, absolutely.

The question is where do I draw the line? When do I have to set a good example and be a role model for my son? Of course by this I mean: be serious and let him know that his actions are not funny… and then laugh like hell on the inside and blog about it later.

The Brown Tidal Wave

Over an hour to get ready.  Mommy showered, daddy showered (surprisingly)… everyone got changed.  Don’t forget that getting changed for a six and a half month old means a diaper change, 17 layers of clothes… fitting a tight pair of jeans on over his butt, fitting a onesie, shirt and sweater over his massive head… etc, etc.

As he is about to get comfortable in the car seat… the tsunami hit.  The dreaded poo up the back on the arms and tummy… and through EVERY.LAYER.OF.CLOTHING.  To the point where he needed a full out bath.

Three hours later… literally three hours after we began getting ready, we we are all set to go… again.

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OCD and Yuck

I’m not sure sometimes who I’m writing this blog for… is really for Jackson?  Is it for others who share my infinity for hilarious things that happen on a day to day basis?  Or is it for me to finally come clean about my inner issues?

Well if it’s the latter I guess its time to come clean about something… I’m OCD… not Jack Nicholas from As Good as it Gets OCD… but OCD non-the-less.   Not so much a huge deal when you live at home with a wife who is relatively clean and tidy, but a HUGE problem when you bring a little mess maker into the world.  My OCD ramps up when things aren’t clean and tidy… when things are messy I get anxious.  When things are dirty or germy I want to barf!  Then you bring in this amazing little wonder into the house who makes every rainy day bright… but also brings with him germs that definitely could be derived from the Black Plague.

Here’s a list of my top three OCD inducing, dry-heave making issues:

1)  Spit up:  I don’t know about you, but the precursor to vomit (spit up) is just as disgusting as puke itself.  I cannot deal with it.  Why does it happen every single time I forget to put a bib on him or a burp cloth on my shoulder?   Why is it hot? (My microwave can’t even heat up a cup of coffee that fast, how did he get it to 287 degrees farenheight in 14 seconds?  Worst case scenario, Jax spits up while we are all eating… once that happens any food in the vicinity is dead to me… and there is no amount of hunger that could repair the damage done.

2)  Caca:  Caca is different from poop.  Poop is just that poop… it happens, its gross but you just deal.  But caca is disgusting.  I don’t want to see it, I don’t want to smell it, I don’t even want to know it happened.  Caca is the one where you know you are going to be sick when you hear the noises you child’s butt is making during the process.  All I can think about is caca particles beong released into the atmosphere.  I know they are there, you cant see them, but they are there waiting to penetrate everything you love… your clothes, your cup of water, even your pillow case… then it’s HELLO PINK EYE…

3)  Floor Yuck:  Floor yuck is another kind of invisible disgustingness that lurks around, well it lurks around the floor I guess.  There is this repulsive cycle that I feel takes place in this world and it is far too often overlooked.

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Now the variable here is floor yuck… you see floor yuck can be categorized into three main groups:

      1)  Caca Yuck: Anything poo related, dog poo, baby poo, diaper remnants, shoe prints that stepped in poo… or anything that could have come in contact with poo. There’s not enough hand sanitizer in the world to solve this problem.

      2)  Insect Yuck: There is nothing that makes me shiver more than bugs.  I hate them, they are disgusting and I wish Noah never invited two of each on the arc.  They are bringers of eternal disgustingness and literally carry every type of disease known to man.  I want nothing to do with any of them.

      3)  Blood Yuck: Blood is right up there in the things that I wish didn’t exist.  I know we need it to live… but couldn’t we have filled our veins with something useful, like maple syrup or a good IPA?  I hate blood, the sight of it makes me want to pass out.  The problem is that people bleed all the time, they bleed and let it drip, they leave a Hansel and Gretel bread crumb trail from their injury site to the bathroom where the Band-Aids are… then they wipe up the trail with a wet paper towel.  I don’t care how strong the Brawny Man is… he aint cleaning up plasma and white blood cells.  If blood touches the floor you might as well tear it up and burn it.

So you can see that I have slight issues with life sometimes.  The thing is… Jax will inevitably make me want to vomit from time to time… weather it’s a diaper full of caca, spitting up or picking something up off the floor and shoving it into his mouth.  I guess this blog is my way of admitting I may have a problem.

 

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Real Conversations

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Tongue out while he works. #BeLikeMike #IfICouldBeLikeMike #Jordan #Tongue #JaxDoinJax #LikeGrandpa

Real conversation that ensued after this picture is texted out to the family:

Trich: “Where are his clothes!??”

Vin: “It’s after 5pm. He doesn’t need any.”

…Later on that night…

It’s 1:15am. And I’m up to feed and change Jax.  This kid eats and poops more than anyone I’ve ever met.

(except his father)

Turn around for one second to grab the wipes and you have your pee diaper in your mouth!

Time to hide the Lego pieces, dog toys and spare change… Everything is about to go down this kid’s gullet.

PS: I’ve always wanted to use the word gullet in a sentence. Is it actually a body part or is it like one of those cool sounding words that everyone uses and you just assume it’s real?

   

6.8.14- What do Jax and Outkast Have in Common

Mima pulled the ole Switch-a-roo this weekend on Jax. Subbed in some formula when he wasn’t looking, Surprisingly he had no issues (special allergy free $9000 bottle of formula, he better like it). And he did, he liked it!

Jax may like it, but daddy does not enjoy the formula diapers! Those things are radiation material and will straight up melt your face. As the great OutKast would say… Stankonia.

5.24.14 – Mornings

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It’s breakfast time. For once, it’s actually quiet in the house and I’m able to enjoy just sitting and spending quality time with my son.  It’s so much more enjoyable when he is actually eating his food and not redecorating my shirt or the couch with it.  It’s been a pretty good night, but I’m not surprised that the coffee I’m drinking is unable to counteract the events of the week so far.  (Note to self… try making coffee tomorrow morning with REDBULL instead of water).

Out of nowhere a flash of dark fur streaks across the family room… not that out of the ordinary for my Max, who already is just weird to the level of infinity x 3.  But what happens next is what draws my concern.  He begins to squat, but this time, he slowly turns his head and looks right at me… like literally… we lock eyes.  Then it happens. He’s dropping a bomb on the floor and I think to myself, “I mean, he is literally staring at me and pooping on the floor.”  It all happens in slow motion and when he’s finished I swear he smiled at me and laughed when he walked away.

Yet, nothing stops the little guy from enjoying his breakfast of champions.  He ate the whole thing, and it didn’t result in me OR him having to change!

Today is going to be a good day, I can feel it.