Your Toy Is a Whore!

Mia's Birthday party was this past weekend. I know. I know. Her actual 4th birthday was in July, but because of my sister's wedding and Dawn's pregnancy, we postponed Mia's birthday gathering until things settled down a little.

Originally, Mia wanted a "Disney Princess" party as the theme. Fine. Done. Nice choice. I have nothing against the princesses. Snow White and Cinderella have never done me wrong. However, at the final hour, Mia calls an audible and told us that she wants a Bratz party. For those of you who aren't familiar with Bratz, think "Street Hooker Barbie". These toys are vile. I loathe them. What the toy company has done was take a barbie, strip her of her All-American clothes and performed a makeover on her by giving her slutty clothes, J-Lo-esque hairstyles, and dick-sucking lips. Someone who every pre-school girl should aspire to be :/

In addition to my general hate for the toy, Bratz is also "public enemy #1" for Barbie, of whom my sister works for. I guess the equivalent would be if Ray Kroc's neice had her birthday party at the local Burger King. It's not going to put anyone in the poor house, but it's still kind of awkward. But how can you tell a 4-year-old that her decision was wrong because Bratz is increasing its market share in the ultra-competitive toy market and can indirectly affect the job of Tita Jen by lowering the profits of an already beleaguered company? A 5-year-old, MAYBE. But 4?!

Not A Fan of Defensive Battles

The Bears, coming off a forgettable Super Bowl appearance, opened the 2007 season yesterday vs. the San Diego Chargers. In addition, it marked the first time I was able to get an opportunity to "watch" a game with Owen. Unimpressed with the apparent defensive struggle this game would turned out to be, he fell asleep. I guess the younger generations need the razzle-dazzle of a high scoring game to find it interesting. (For the record: Bears lost, 14-3)

I'm Out of My Element

I'm out of my Element. Literally. With the arrival of Owen comes the realization that I need a bigger car. This is really a bummer, considering how much I love, I mean LOVE my Honda Element. It was a perfect little car for me to zip around town and truly one of the most unique and versatile cars out there. The headroom and backseat legroom are unmatched.

Unfortunately, the backseat only seats 2, which makes the car obsolete for a dad of 3 kids. Sadly, I have to turn the page on the Ol' Element :(

So, after much thought, I decided to go with a Nissan Altima. Nice car. Seats 5. Not too expensive. Done.

I'm sure I'll learn to love this car as well. :/

Damn you, Honda, for not making a 5-seater Element!

Thar He Blows!

I've heard all the stories and seen it re-enacted in sitcoms, but for some reason, it took me by surprise. A few days after taking Owen home from the hospital, I found myself changing "Stinky's" diaper. Everything was going smoothly. Take off soiled diaper. Check. Wipe off remnants with wetwipe. Check. Place new diaper under buttocks. Check. However, as soon as I finished this step, I felt a stream of liquid squirt all over me. I initially thought the ceiling was leaking or someone brought in the garden hose and was playing some very unfunny prank on me. But as soon as I gained my senses, I realized that the source was coming from Owen! That S.O.B. was emptying his bladder on his dad, 1/2 of the party responsible for his existence! How's that for gratitude?!

The next time I changed him, I thought I'd outsmart him. "I'll put a wet wipe on his thingy to protect myself." I was wrong. I later learned that Wet Wipes aren't very absorbent and the pee pee would just ricochet off the wet wipe, onto Owen and then onto the changing table.

It wasn't until the 3rd or 4th time where I realized that wash cloth or extra diaper would do the trick. I'm not very quick ;)

Oh, how I long for days when urine just dribbled out, like it did with my daughters...

Sigh...