The Raich's Big Adventure

Minnesota is known for many things. Among it's more famous things are Prince, Garrison Keillor, The Walker Art Center, having 10,000 lakes, the coldest inhabited city in the upper 48, and food on a stick. I'm not sure which is more famous, but the food on a stick is certainly the highlight of the year for many people. For those of you who have no idea what I'm talking about, I'm talking about the Minnesota State Fair. The fair, other wise known as the Great Minnesota Get Together, is the largest state fair in the country. That's right, in a place that's generally known to have two seasons: winter and road construction, we have a state fair that attracts hundreds of thousands of people for a 10 day period to the state fair grounds (which is actually a permanent structure, actually city, in St. Paul). When I say hundreds of thousands of people, that is no exaggeration or as Mia says 'for real life'. This year on the first day alone there were 114,439 people there. But that was just a warm up. The day we went there were 191,071 and I think they were all there at the same time

This picture doesn't do it justice, but it gives you an idea of what one street was like.

The real fun of the fair is that everything you eat is either bigger then your head or on a stick or both. Take the meatball on a stick for an example. That's right. A meatball dinner that's deep fried and put on a stick. Or how about the About a Foot Long Hot Dog.

Mia had no problems with this. Some of the other things that are draws are Pig Lickers. In case you can't guess what that is, it's chocolate covered bacon. Yum. Wait, I'm vegetarian. There's Big Fat Bacon. That's 1/2 pound of bacon, and you guessed it, on a stick. There's the deep fried candy bars. I didn't have one, but I would imagine one would want to save that until everything else had been tried. After all, I would guess that's a quick trip to the hospital with all the fat, calories, cholesterol and such . . . help, I'm coding. There's the deep fried fruit, key lime pie, and pork chop - all on a stick.

Mia tried the cotton candy

And finished it!


Our menu consisted of french fries

Corn Dog, Catfish sandwich, root beer, key lime pie, custard cone, and Sweet Martha's Cookies. First the Corn Dog. There's a war at the fair between the corn dog and the pronto pup. I'm not sure what other fairs have, but in these here parts, it's a little like the good ole' family war between the two camps. The one camp, we'll call them Corn Dog Clampetts, likes their dogs fried with a corn batter. The other, we'll call them Pronto Pup Bodines, like their dogs fried with wheat batter. The two don't see eye to eye, are likely to call each other names on the street, and will most diffinatley do bad things with the sticks that are left after consuming the dogs in one big bite. I myself am part of the Clampetts camp and after this year so are Mia and Andrea, for if they weren't, well let's just say there would be a fight a brewin'.

Then there's Sweet Martha's Cookies. These cookies have been around for years and each year the lines keep growing and growing. They have two stands at the fair with 10 lines at each. This year we waited 30 minutes in line to get these cookies. By the time we were at the front of the line, we had no choice but to get the bucket, which is about 4 dozen cookies, and costs 14 dollars.

Which brings me to the next point: money. The state fair is not for the faint of heart or wallet. Not only is this an event that invites one of the seven deadly sins, glutony, it invites poverty. Just to get in to the fair is 11 dollars for every man, woman, and child over the age of 5. Once there, you gotta eat. In order to eat, you have to pony up at least 4 dollars a meal, but more likely 6 dollars. So, let's say you and your sweetheart want to try to the dog wars; that's 8 dollars please. How about a lemonade; that's 3 or 6 depending on where you buy it. Let's say you want a sandwich . . . 6 dollars please. The point being that unless you have money in the bank and a retirement plan in place, be careful. Now that Mia is eating all of our food and her own, she can no longer attend college. If you would like to help her out, please visit www.HelpMiaAttendCollegeBecauseHerParentsSpentAllTheirSavingsToSuckDownLemonadeAndCookies.com

The other part of the fair is that of the games. I've never been a real game person. I figured that winning is next to impossible and quite frankly I've never really been good at throwing, shooting, or darts. However, that is not the case with Mia. She won two prizes by fishing.

Of course, everyone's a winner, but don't tell her that.

And then there's Marc 'they don't call me water shooter champion for nothing' Scharlatt, otherwise known as Grampy. Apparently the game that you shoot water and blow up a balloon is his game. He doesn't loose and has been banned in 47 states due to his crazy skills. So this year he thought he would try Minnesota and win some prizes for Mia.


Just look at that determination. Just look at that concentration. Just look at that balloon that's still inflated. Oops. The first round was just a warm-up. Next round. Same determination. Same fixed gaze. Same inflated balloon. Oops. Next round. Same. Next round. Same. We love Grampy and he gave it 110 percent. But Minnesota had the fix in and he left with nothing but a card for a good therapist. I should mention that Andrea, sitting next to him, has a similar stare, similar concentration, similar results.

All in all a great day, a great fair, and a really great, big belly ache.

These are the Top 6 things my alarm clock can't do, but Jonah can:

6 - Need a diaper change in the middle of the night, and if Andrea and I are really lucky a whole bedding change, too; which requires us to get out of bed, in the dark, fumbling around for fear that if we turn on lights, he will never go back to sleep. This I have to say is just plain amusing. Imagine a blind person, drunk, trying to find a pair of slippers that were moved just a foot to the right from where they normally are placed? Similar to this.

5 - Smile at us just after doing the thing that requires his diaper be changed in the middle of the night, as if he's just that frickin' cute, in the dark, at 3.09 am, on the night I just worked until midnight, and had to deal with Dixie's mess on the kitchen floor because she's still sulking and depressed and still feels she isn't getting enough love even though she continually is right under my butt when I sit down on the couch to relax, but can't because I can't find a place to sit and if I sit on her, she will only go further into her depression (which Prozac doesn't appear to be helping). Anyway, that's another story for a different novel.

4 - Spit up after the 19th feeding in the last three hours, which by the way requires number 6 above to happen - again!

3 - Look super cute in footed PJ's and bald head, but will require me to remove and, here's the tricky part, to put back on said PJ's in the middle of the night, at 3.09 am, in a dark room and feeling like I have lost control over my body because I'm so tired I can't even spell my own name, which is normally not too difficult given it only has four letters.

2 - Be super cuddly in a way that only a baby can do. You know the way, sprawled out with all limbs going at diagonals and poking into different body parts. Example: he sleeps in our bed and has his arms and legs at just the right angle to do damage on two fronts to me. The first is his little fingers with unmanicured nails which always get me right in the tender part of the inside of my nose. If you are unfamiliar with this feeling, the best thing you can do to approximate it is to take a tweezers and pull a hair from this part of your nose and then do it again and again . . . now you get he picture. The second damage area is my mid-section. His foot is at just the right angle to . . . well, let's just say that men who play sports know there's sports equipment to protect this area of one's body. However, this is not something that I want to to start wearing to bed. Don't get me wrong, I love the little guy and have endured many, many beatings by both he and his sister, but this is a pain I don't want. Try to think of child birth while knowing that this pain will in fact lead to the inability to ever think clearly again (some woman say that this part of the body actually prevents men from thinking clearly in the first place).

1-And the number one thing that Jonah can do that my alarm clock can't is wake us up on the hour, every hour, every day. That's right folks, our alarm clock is sophisticated, it's hi-tech, it was state of the art 10 years ago, but it cannot wake us up more then once a night. However, thanks to modern technology, that's just in it's infancy, I can be woken up nightly on the hour. Here's how it works. Start by putting Jonah to bed at 6.30 or so. At this point, there's not much fussing, because he just got done with his favorite treat - mama's milk. Now what you do is start to do something like watch a movie, you know, one that you really want to watch and if you don't get to watch now, your entire being will go into convulsions. Then, right at the high point, like when you're just about to find out the butler didn't do it, the first cry comes. This is about 2 hours after going to sleep. Okay, you can live with this. You go and shush him and get him back sleep. But the problem is that right about then the alarm has been set and there is nothing that can be done, at least that's known to man, to turn it off. So, at 9.30 the next alarm comes. This time the movie is right near the end and you're just about to find out that not only did the butler not do it, but that the star of the movie, who is the richest man in the world and everyone thought he was nicest because he was helping the poor and homeless through his foundation, which was really a front, is in fact an alien and has come here to destroy Earth in one giant explosion that will happen by a bomb that he has planted somewhere in Manhattan (perhaps on the plus side this alien knows how to get Jonah to sleep).

So now you get Jonah back to sleep and hope that he can last for a bit. The next time he wakes, everyone knows will be the time he gets fed. So he wakes up at 10. And then there's feeding. And then there's quiet, except that Jonah is a bit agitated and he makes continuous grunting sounds while he's eating. After his feeding he is able to calm down and go to bed. Now you hurry up to get into bed, without making a noise for fear that you will wake him from one of the only sound slumbers he has and thus cause you to be up for an even longer period of time. But lucky you, he lets you sleep for an hour and . . .

Yell, scream, moan . . . if you don't pick me up and pay attention to me I'm going to wake the neighbors.

Knowing that his main superpower is volume, you quickly act, or rather react, and snatch him up and give into his demands without hesitation or negotiation. Once again he goes down.

The next two hours go the same way. Thankfully, when the power went out the other day, I was able to reset the clocks in the house by his waking - it's just that regular. And once again when the 2 am time comes around, he gets fed, but this time he comes to bed with us. Now, Jonah/Chuckie comes out to play. It's as if Cirque Du Soleil has come to town and he's the clown and the opening night performance is in your bed. Or maybe it's more like a tsunami that was predicted for the last week, but as native islanders we refused to leave our home. At any rate, the rest of the night goes on like this until 5. At this point he's awake.

Andrea and I haven't slept, we've been up all night, we've been fighting with each other or at least fighting as much as two people can while whispering and trying not to wake up Mia or Jonah. And you know what the first thing we see is? It's his smile looking pleased with himself. Oh, he's just so happy to be up. It's morning. Time to play. And know that he once again got the best of you. It's as if he's saying see what I can do. As if he's saying just wait until tonight. As if he's saying I AM IRONMAN (kick in Black Sabbath).


Mia putting a performance of rock star .

Our bald beauty.

Same smile as at 3:09am. Hard to resist.

Mia and I had a daddy/daughter day out at the local falls.

Just our silly baby.

I apologize for the lack of a post lately. I've had computer problems. I know that sounds like a cop out, but it's true. I know that when I read someone is having computer problems and that's why something has not happened that was supposed to, I think, yah, right, how lazy can one person be. The reality is that both are true for me. Not only am I a bit lazy (okay more then a bit-- just give me a movie and some popcorn and there's no end to the time I will spend on the couch), but we did have computer problems. Our computer is our life link to the world. We have no television (I know, poor Mia) and we don't get the paper. So for us, we rely on our computer for everything, i.e. news, movies, games, mindless fluff. Knowing this makes it hard for me to actually think about what we have endured with our current computer. For starters, we have no battery in the computer. The battery died a long time ago and we've had to endure using the computer while plugged in. This isn't so much a problem if it were a stationary computer, but it's not. It's a laptop and therefore supposedly portable. Not ours, however. Ours will shut off with the very tiniest movement. We actually have it in a hermetically sealed bubble so the wind doesn't disturb it, lest the plug will come loose and all will be lost (all being the genius that is this post).

So last night, our computer situation got to the worst it's ever been. Not only was the plug coming loose, but movies were unwatchable due to skipping, dvd's were unplayable, and the power cord was dying. What else could go wrong? Could Jonah still not be sleeping? (check). Could I still not really be making any progress upstairs? (check). Could I still have to sleep on my side, pillow smooshed into a ball that makes a rock feel soft, with no covers above my waist and against a wall and nightstand in order to fit all my kids and wife in the bed with me? (check). Oh, yeah, we also didn't win the powerball, but had we, everyone who reads this blog would have gotten something (hard to say what, though). What went wrong was that the power cord died. Although, I do have to say it was my fault.

You know how you see a button and it says don't push? And you know how if you're a guy what that actually means is that you have to push it because every fiber of your being is yearning to see the catastrophe that will ensue? Well that was the situation with me. The power cord had died, but through some miracle, similar I suppose to Santa Claus fitting down chimmanys, Andrea was able to get it going again, for what I would soon learn was the last time. I started to back up the hard drive, but I just had to go and move the computer. The first move went okay (yes, that's right, I said first move, because if I could do it once, I sure as hell could do it again). I was able to angle the computer slightly better for me and therefore feel superior over the power cord Gods. But then I thought, this was not the best place to have the computer if I wanted to watch a movie, so I best move it back.

Here's where the sirens and alarms and other hideous noises should have gone off for me. Here's were I should have said, maybe enough's enough and I just got lucky with the one move. Maybe this was the opportunity, the only one, that the great computer deities were going to give me. But in fact I did not realize all this until . . .

oops . . .

DEAD!

Yup, I moved the computer, the power pack on the power cord fell from the mantle and that was all she wrote (by the way, why is it all SHE wrote? Have no men ever written the end of something? I'm willing to bet if you ask a woman, she will say that a man has in fact written the last of something. Case in point, my wife would most defiantly say she got the computer working and I killed it and in fact it was all he wrote).

The next several hours were spent trying to duplicate all the efforts that Andrea had made earlier to get the power cord back to working. I unplugged and plugged the cord into the wall more times then Mia makes trips to the candy bowl. I looked at the power cord, I mean really stared at it as if my evil eye (read: stink eye according to Mia) would somehow fill the inanimate plug with fear that if it did not turn on it's red light to indicate it was working I would do horrible things to its family. Still nothing. I even pretended to not care that the plug was not working and suddenly jump up and plug it in just to try to trick said inanimate plug. I continue to say inanimate plug just to convince you that I understand the plug cannot think for itself (although I actually think it can and it was out to get me which would be read: paranoia).

But in the end, the computer was dead and Andrea and I were sitting there staring at each other wondering, 'now what?'. There is never so much silence as there is when there's . . . silence.

(stage left we hear crickets chirping and we see sage brush blowing in the wind across the living room floor)

We always have the computer on. We are always doing something around the computer. The computer seems to be a part of everything we do. It's like it's one of the family. Examples: cooking dinner and we need the computer for recipes; pretending I'm going to work upstairs and I need to watch a video of Bob Villa doing the same job I want to do only he's better dressed and more successful at the project; go to sleep and I need the computer like Jonah needs a security blanket. But, there we were with nothing between us but the still August air. So you know what we did, nothing. We starred at one another. We wanted to talk, but didn't know about what. In the end we did some personality indicator work. We came up with a list of our top 5 values in life. My number one should have been a working computer, but that was not one of the choices offered. Instead, I came up with family. Yup, just like Mr. Cleaver, I smitten for my family.

Anyways, the end result is that we ordered a new computer and Andrea once again has fixed our power cord. Until next time when I will post a shorter story and more pictures. For now I'm off to snuggle with one of the loves of my life . . .

(I, Andrea, just read this poem on a friend of a friend's blog. It is a bit sappy, but it totally chokes me up.)

Song for a Fifth Child
By Ruth Hamilton

Mother, oh Mother, come shake out your cloth
empty the dustpan, poison the moth,
hang out the washing and butter the bread,
sew on a button and make up a bed.
Where is the mother whose house is so shocking?
She's up in the nursery, blissfully rocking.

Oh, I've grown shiftless as Little Boy Blue
(lullaby, rockaby, lullaby loo).
Dishes are waiting and bills are past due
(pat-a-cake, darling, and peek, peekaboo).
The shopping's not done and there's nothing for stew
and out in the yard there's a hullabaloo
but I'm playing Kanga and this is my Roo.
Look! Aren't her eyes the most wonderful hue?
(lullaby, rockaby, lullaby loo).

The cleaning and scrubbing will wait till tomorrow,
for children grow up, as I've learned to my sorrow.
So quiet down, cobwebs. Dust go to sleep.
I'm rocking my baby and babies don't keep.

LADIES!!! AND GENTLEMEN!!!

LETS GET READY TO RUMBLEEEEE!

In this corner, weighing in at 15.5 pounds and hailing from the great state of Minnesota is JONAH 'NO SLEEP' RAICHHHHH!

And in the opposite corner, weighting in at a beefy and very manly 160 pounds and coming to us from St. Paul, Minnesota via London, England is JEFFREY 'CAN'T GET A BREAK' RAICHHHH!

This fight will be a best of 365 and will occur daily. Remember, no hitting below the belt, no gouging eyes (that's directed at you, No Sleep), and no waking up Mia. Keep the fight clean and come out when the bell rings. To your corners, fighters.

Andrea 'Haven't Slept for 4 Months' Raich, makes her way around the ring with the placard letting us know that it's now 9:00 pm and the first round is about to start.

Ding!

The fighters come out. Jonah is trying the tried and true method of screaming. This usually works and scores a knockout within the first 10 minutes.

Oh, no, Can't Get a Break is countering. He looks like he's accepted the screaming, It's as if he's made peace with the screaming. He counters with a song. Yes, this is brilliant. He's singing the A,B,Cs.

I can't believe this, ladies and gentlemen. It's not working. No Sleep continues to hammer away with the screaming. Oh wait, no, now he's flailing. He's just brutal. This is a street fight, that's what we have here. Yes, it's down and dirty. It's winner take all.

Can't Get a Break continues with the song, but wait . . . could it be . . . yes it is . . . he's adding some bouncing and swinging. I can't believe my eyes. Not since the great fight of '02 have we seen such great fighters exhibiting such tactical genius.

No Sleep continues with the flail and scream. He's just pounding away at Can't Get a Break. There is just no reprieve. Wait, now he's having a go at Havnen't Slept for 4 Months. I can't believe this, folks. No Sleep is now taking on two people. This is unheard of.

Can't Get a Break looks like he's had enough. I think he's stopped singing. NO!!! He's back. He's got a new song. I don't know if No Sleep will be able to handle this. What's the song?! It's . . . It's . . . Bah Bah. Brilliant! But will it work? Will it be the final blow to end this fight for the night.

NOOOOOOO!

Not even close! No Sleep just keeps on. He's relentless. Can't Get a Break has now turned toward Haven't Slept for 4 Months. Folks, I have to say I think this is just about over. I can see it in Can't Get a Break's eyes. Unless there is a new trick up his sleeve, this one is over.

And there it is . . . 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7 , 8, 9, 10

Ding, Ding!

No Sleep has been passed to Haven't Slept for 4 Months, and I think we should add 'And Counting' to her name, and is now enjoying the food of the gods. That's it, Ladies and Gentlemen. No Sleep has once again triumphed over Can't Get a Break and Haven't Slept for 4 Months.

I can't wait for the next round in just a short 2 hours.


He's getting so big (Jonah, not me, although my waist line is none too small, either).

She just got her hair cut. It's soo cute. She got a little bob.

Mr. Raich celebrates dares. Andrea offered her abstraction regarding letter R - insert letter R throughout Mr. Raich's blogger entry. Never problematic for Mr. Raich (Mr. Raich referring toward Mr. Raich exercising third person).

Thursday, Mr. Raich required dormancy from Mr. Raich's heir apparent for four hours. However, Mr. Raich's heir required merely three hours slumber. Results were poor for Mr. Raich considering Mr. Raich desired computer surfing opportunities, expressly for rubbernecking transmitted programs. Mr. Raich suffered through. Rubbernecking required darkness, after children were resting for slumber. Mr. Raich reeled Andrea toward computer. Andrea remained through program. Mrs. Raich stared. Andrea thoroughly adored Friday After Dark Luster. Andrea responded toward program inferring program superdog (read: groovy). Thereupon, Mr. Raich's inheritor cried. Three hours proceeded after starting slumber. Graveyard hours work required prompt rising from Mr. Raich's successor. Screaming wrestled Mr. Raich from computer toward crib retaining Mr. Raich's beneficiary. However, screaming persisted for Mrs. Raich. Mrs. Raich, otherwise regarded nearing superwoman, retained Mr. Raich's receiver's desire: breasts. Return toward slumber, sparse worker.

Mr. Raich retires for slumber . . .

I've noticed two things since having children. The first is that there is no shortage of advice and people willing to give it to you. The second is that no matter what you do, you're doing it wrong. I remember when Mia was little I was clueless about how to raise a kid (I have to confess not much has changed). Now, 6 years later I know a bit more, but mostly only what doesn't work, which is just about everything we do. So, now here we are, almost 4 months into having Jonah, and the latest issue we are trying to solve is his sleep. I don't know what the problem is for him, I mean I love to sleep. I like sleeping more then, say, chocolate. I probably like it more then movies. I think I even like it more then having chocolate at the movies. And it's one of the few things I'm really good at. Just ask my wife. I can sleep through a tornado on top of my house with Metallica playing in my living room. But not my son. No, he likes to be up. And you know there's almost no way to get angry with him. Once he gets up he gives you this big smile, the kind that can lift souls, stop traffic, and melt butter, which can come in handy when you want buttered popcorn and have no stove. We have been trying to deal with this everyday, which in reality is probably confusing the little guy as we don't seem to be able to stick with any one plan for more then a day. One day we bounce with him, the next we rock, the next we walk, and the next we put him on our head, spin 10 times in a circle and sing the Star Spangled Banner backwards. Needless to say none of this is working.

So we've been talking to people, reading books, and searching the internet. What we've found is that everyone has an opinion on what works for them, but none of it seems to work for us. Why not? Is our kid that different from everyone else's? Have we given birth to a third shift worker? I always thought that those of us who work the graveyard shift did so while slowly getting used to the hours. I never knew that graveyard shift workers were born. And I have to say that when we put our order in, I don't remember checking the box for a child that's up all night.

But here we are with a gorgeous baby boy who won't sleep. The reality of the situation is that most children, the vast majority really, don't sleep through the night until they are 2, which is exactly when it happened for Mia. I have always been convinced that a parent's perception is key. Think about it. You've all seen those parents that think that their child can play the violin; who go on and on about how talented little Joey or Janelle or Juanita is and really what they are playing sounds sort of similar to the torture of the family dog (which is pretty close to what ends up happening). Yikes this sounds terrible. The point is this, if your perception is that your child is doing just as your child should do, then you have no problems. So if my perception was that Andrea and I should go without sleeping more then an hour at a time and Jonah should only take 45 minute naps, then he would be the most wonderful child in the world (not to mention the most beautiful and talented).

But this is not the case. No, the case is that he should be sleeping. So what are we to do? I'll tell you what we've tried so far. Even though we promised not to do it again, we bounce. We bounce like fools. We bounce like there's no tomorrow. I think in the end all this does is move his grey matter around. It's probably not a good thing. But today I put an end to it as it's ruining our bed, killing my back, and creating a child who may not be able to count to 100. We've also tried to not respond so fast when he starts to scream. This didn't work, but it did wake up the neighbors. We've tried to load him up on food thinking that if he were just more full he would sleep longer. All this did was make him bigger and now he's wearing 12 month old onsies. We're at a loss. I guess the only thing to do is to join him. So for now on we too are going to get up every two hours, sometimes every hour. We too are going to scream when our needs are not met the very instant we have them (although I already do this). And we too are going to flail our arms and legs while at the same time smacking everyone around us. I'll let you know how that goes.

I love the R. Life is just better now that I have an R back in my life. I never really thought of R as important. I guess I always took the R for granted. I will never do that again. Think about all the words that can't be spelled. Just start with our last name. No R means no family. Bummer. How about water, mower, mother, father, sugar . . . yikes, I need my R. I am sorry dear R, I will never take you for granted again. I will use an R whenever I can. I will add extra words just to be able to show my appreciation, dear R. Thank you for all you do, R! You're the greatest (well, next to the vowels, and maybe the T, oh yeah and maybe the S. Lets not forget the M, but that's it. Well, perhaps also the C. Okay, you're one of the better letters; at least in the top 25.)

I have been challenged to put down on this blog a posting without using a specific piece of the alphabet. To find that piece, please look at the comments a few posts ago. I have accepted that challenge and this is my post.


The shindig is finally finished and all have gotten a good night sleep. I am continually amazed at just how much noise a bunch of little ladies can make. What is a bunch of little mademoiselles called? A gaggle, a pod, a clique, a mob? No, a bunch of little ladies is called out of check. They might be called deafening. But I would posit they can be called savage. Now imagine that that gaggle of little females was given glucose, and lots of it at that. Actually given so much glucose that any commonplace kid would have gone into anaphylactic shock. So what we had on Sunday was a savage of 5 little damsels who had no idea of why they began to yell and act like hyenas post-kill of a gazelle, but what I should have done was call the local zoo . . . maybe animal handeling. I suppose some of it was my my fault as we decided to not only give them cupcakes but donuts, too. Who in one's sane mind would do this? How is this a good idea?


The cupcakes came following lunch when we sang happy natal day (can you imagine the song now . . . happy natal day to you, happy natal day to you, happy natal day mia . . .). Each chickadee had a just one cupcake. Leading up to this I had commented to a guest just how quite things had been. But then things got going. A little pool splashing, a bit of some wet slip-n-slide and then some additional goodies. We decided that playing a game with donuts was a good idea. So we hung some donuts on twine hooked to a maple. The idea was that they had to eat said donuts without touching them. The issue was that all but one donut fell off the twine and we had to substitute additional cupcakes (but I managed to eat two of those said donuts and give myself a feeling of glee and pain all at once). Post getting smacked in the face with the cupcakes, and have icing all about each one's face, then having the cupcakes fall to the loam, they got on hands and knees and commenced to lick the lawn clean. I have to say, had I thought of this ahead of my buying a lawn cutting machine, I would have just put icing on the lawn, invited the local kids to my house, and had them go to town. I could not believe how close they cut the blades. It was quite a site to behold. Five little bodies in swim suits going coo coo about coco pops. Even my dog got in on the fun. The best way to talk about the scene would be to imagine a film of man-eating fish stuffing themselves on a meal, but the film is shown at mach 10.

All in all it was fun and all seemed to have a good time. No one lost any limbs, although one did leave behind little panties. But the highlight of the day had to be my wife's mom and dad. They got in on the fun, didn't mind getting wet, and made the shindig exceptional. I do have to mention that my wife's mom was not fully set to get wet. She had clothes that seemed quite nice and was clothed in white pants (think aqua and white), needless to say it was a sight, but she didn't get bugged and I give mom kudos.

Mia's pal Saya in slip 'n slide fun

Just look at that face. I love the look. Additional pal, Tig

Look at that face!

Post glucose

I'm not positive what won - the cupcake, the face

Mia's five pals

My wife's mom

I write this entry with one eye closed in pain due to the throbbing ache that has taken over the right side of my brain. However, on the plus side, the r seems to be working again. I guess the continual pounding of my left index finger has obliterated any piece of food that was there and has sent the remains to be scattered throughout my hard drive.

The pain in my head is due to a number of things. The first and most likely chief reason is that Jonah is sick/teething/fussy and as a result is not sleeping. It's hard for me to say he's not sleeping as he never really sleeps. So on a sliding scale he has begun to sleep less. Just imagine that before he slept about the same as a great white shark or a giraffe (which is really not much at all, maybe 15 minutes at time), but for the last two nights, and especially last night, he has slept about as much as an insomniac going though a manic phase who has taken far more Nodoz then recommended and chased it with coffee. The upside is that Andrea and I get to spend more time together; the down side is that we ache. I really shouldn't say much as Andrea gets stuck doing most of the work. After all she has breasts and I, well, really don't.

Poor Jonah really is sick, however. He has his first cold. He's handling it well though, at least during the day. During the day he is just sick with a running nose. You know the kind . . . the kind that makes everyone else, including those who no longer have young children and can't remember what it's like let to see snot and pooh, wince when they see you at the counter trying to pay for your groceries and needing to wipe his nose with your fingers and then get your money out of your wallet. And of course you can only use the same hand that you just used to wipe his nose because the other hand is busy holding the baby. And while this may seem like common sense, in the heat of the moment I actually have to remind myself that if I use both hands gravity will take over and suck Jonah down to the ground with the power of Dyson. The problem now is that no one wants to take my money and instead ask me to put the money in the till for them, which I do. As I leave I see the same people taking bleach and wiping down everything that I may or may not have come in contact with. I haven't noticed yet if they are also calling infection control or the state epidemiologist, but I'm sure that's not far off.

We also think Jonah is teething. But don't put much stock in this as we thought that everything that was ever wrong with Mia was a result of her teething. It's sort of like the father in My Big Fat Greek Wedding and his Windex. Mia's got a running nose, then she must be teething. She's got an ear ache, then she must be teething. She's not willing to eat her veg, but will eat her dessert, then she must be teething. So we will see with Jonah, but I'm sure it will be the same.

The other chief reason for the head ache is Mia. Yesterday she watched Dennis the Menace. I'm not sure if you've seen this movie, but it's not like the cartoon. Sure Dennis bothers Mr. Wilson, and those parts are a lot of fun. But then enter a thief. I don't remember a scary thief in the comic, but wow this was. Christopher Lloyd played a deranged and very scary thief. I really like him and think he's a lot of fun, but not for kids. The end result was that Mia was scared out of her mind. She tends to be a bit sensitive, too. After all she was scared by Alvin and the Chipmunks. Although I suppose she should have been given that she was watching three chipmunks talk and sing. At any rate, she was up last night and was afraid of robbers. I guess I shouldn't be surprised by this as she told me that she was going to be up and expected me to sleep with her. Which brings me to another point: she's a nightmare to sleep with. The closest I can come to describing what it's like to sleep with Mia is to have you imagine you are stuck in the Amazon (as in river, not online store which might be more akin to the Matrix) and a crocodile has grabbed you. The next thing you know you are in a death roll. This is what it's like to be in bed with Mia. Sure she's innocent enough and lures you to her bed by saying how scared she is. Sure it's nice when you lay down, after all you just woke up from a sound sleep and dreaming of winning the lottery and it's 4 in the morning. Sure she snuggles at first and pretends to sleep. But soon that's over and she says she can't sleep. The next thing you know she has started the death roll. She spins, thwacks you in the face, continues to spin, is on top of you. This is where you have to be careful. You try to move her away and that's it. It's over. She now will not sleep again and has also guaranteed that you will not sleep either. She continues to not be able to get comfortable. At this point the roll is just for fun and really at your expense, sort of 'see how much power I hav?' When you do get up in the morning after having not slept for the last gazillion hours, she then sleeps having felt fulfilled or more aptly, full. She then wakes up rested and ready to go. I ask her if she remembers not being able to sleep. Her response: really, I thought I slept well (this with a smile of 'see you again tonight').

This is what I look like after having slept with Mia in the Amazon

Sure, he looks all sweet now


Getting super big

I woke up this morning and wondered if it was all a dream. Could it really be over? Could all the prep, anticipation, overeating, and hour of extroverted activity be over? The short answer is no. This was just round one and in fact it did happen. Now we get to wait for the friends party.

Round one was nice, though. We had some family over - actually all the family who now lives in the area. I think it totalled 14. That actually included some neighbors too. Here are some pictures, most of which Mia took:

All the guests at the party, except Mia who took the photo. Back row is: me, Roger (step father), Jacki (my mother), Noah (my nephew and Robyn's son who is 13), Robyn (my sister), Linda (Andrea's mother), Jay (one of our neighbors), Jonah, Andrea, Carol (another neighbor), Mark (Andrea's father). Front row: Lisa (Jay's wife), Joe (Andrea's brother in law), Robbie (Robyn's husband), Madi (my niece and Robyn's daughter), and Stacey (Andrea's sister and Joe's wife).


Mia took this photo of Madi. Just look at that composition.

My sister and her family. Again, this is another Mia photo.

Our neighbors.


Here are some more photos from the party. I am going to cut this posting short as my r is not working very well and my finger is starting to hurt.

Happy Birthday, little girl!

Mia and her new groovy girl.

Always as beautiful as the day I met her.


A nice picture to make my mother happy.