YouTube, BabyOragel, 31 & Spring Break

Before I get to the links, I just want to mention 2 things. First, I read The Sports Guy on espn.com and he will occassionally list links that he's visited that he enjoyed so I'm kind of doing the same thing by plagerizing his idea. Second, and this is for the guys who read this, but do you guys ever take issue with the inordinate number of shampoo/conditioner/face-cleanser/exfoliator/make-up-remover/shaving-cream/shaving-lotion/haircare bottles in the shower? I have one - shampoo. Kaed has one - shampoo. Dash has one - shampoo/baby soap (he doesn't really need a bottle for shampoo because we're basically making his scalp smell good). Leah has like, 12. And you know what? I'm ok with that. Really. I don't mind except one little thing. Her conditioner bottle (which is huge) has a pump-dispenser that is equally huge. It sits on a shelf that is hip-high to me and I've been poked by it a number of times. But still, that is not the issue. The issue is that whenever I bend down to pick something up off the tub floor (like Dash), or bend to dry my legs/feet off, I'm in danger of a conditioner-insertion of the SanFran red-light district variety. I've been goosed by that dumb thing more times than I care to admit. I've yet to tell Leah (picking my battles) but I've had it. That stupid pump just about put through the roof when I had my cyst (did I ever tell you guys about that . . .). Anyway, there's my rant, and here are some key-words to type in on youtube.com:

1. "vadrum super mario 2"

2. "flute mario" - guy looks like a dweeb but it's funny

3. "killer whale kayak"

4. "cat ceiling fan" - I hate cats

5. "stevie wonder drum solo"

6. "shawn kemp top 10 dunks"

That should keep you busy for a few minutes. Enjoy.

Young Dashal is cutting 4 teeth right now and he's a little crabby. We've got the baby Oragel gum-number stuff and just for fun, my mom and I rubbed some on our gums - just to check it out. Mom couldn't stop laughing because it felt so weird. Me too.

I turn 31 on the 27th... That just sounded a lot older to me right then. So for my birthday I'm going to Phoenix to golf with my father-in-law (Vaughn) and a brother-in-law (Joel). Should be fun.

10 months and an Oyster Shooter

Dash is 10 months old now. I don't know what that means other than that little turd is making a strong case for "the best thing to happen to Andy". I mean, he's up there with: getting saved, getting Leah and Kaed, and cheesebread. And I am very pleased to report that little Dash has aquired his father's love for all things cheese. Very proud. Very little hair.

We tried again this Sunday with Dash and the church nursery. It went a little better - I didn't get called back once - but he still gave me that look of "daddy, why are you leaving me-don't you love me anymore?" and it kills me. He ended up passing out on some guy's shoulder from crying so hard. Allegedly. I wouldn't have been suprised if one of the nursery workers said, "Forget this kid, get the NyQuill."

Which reminds me; in my life there are two things that I've created (both with help), that I'm proud of, that are cool and measurable (can you tell it is state assessment time?). Dash and my pumphouse.

Leah and I had a "date night" in which we spent the better part of our day in Portland taking back a pair of pants that Leah got me for Christmas. It's well documented that I'm not a huge fan of shopping, even when it's for me. The shopping part of the day was ok until Leah had me turning around and grabbing the waist of some jeans I put on. I told her to knock it off because that's what my mom used to do, when I was 10, and I hated it then too. I'm 30 now, and capable of determining whether or not my pants fit (JUST TELL ME IF YOU LIKE THEM!). I immediately flashed back to mom grabbing the crotch of my pants and exclaiming, "Plenty of room in there!" Ugh. . . Leah got mad at me for the "mom" comment and stormed (yes, she stormed) into a women's store. Apparently I'm not very fun to shop with.

So then we celebrated that fiasco with a little dinner at Beaches on the river. We started off by going outside of our comfort zones, got a little crazy, and ordered 2 oyster shooters. I'm always game for different foods and there's rumor of oysters being an aphrodesiac . . . I couldn't have been more wrong. I didn't think mine was completely disgusting, but I probably won't ever get another one. Leah however . . . almost started crying. I'm not kidding. And she only had part of it (she swears she ate the oyster anus - which is a suprisingly fun thing to say "oyster-anus"). I'm not sure that Leah wants another date night for awhile.

Here's a phone video I took of Kaed doing jumping jacks and Dash saying Ball:

Now I am the Master.

Got my Master's Degree done. Nothing like taking a 2-year program and stretching it into 4 . . . (somewhere David Spade is saying, "Yah, they're called doctor's.") It's a big weight off my shoulders and a little more money in my pocket - and they'll let me keep my job.

So we went to church this last weekend and put Dash in the nursery for the first time. Any idea of how he did? Anyone? . . . . There were 3 babies and one lady working the nursery. The whole thing broke my heart. After I dropped him off I waited and peeked through a window. I had him playing with a toy and he seemed content when I left. But then he kind of looked around with that "where's dad?" look on his face and I could see the bottom lip starting to stick out... so I jumped back in the room and held him and said, "Daddy's here little buddy, and I'll never leave you ever again. Not ever!" . . . Well, not exactly like that, but he did calm down and I went into the sanctuary. After about 15 minutes, his number flashed up near the projector screen so I went back to calm him down. He was crying, and actually all three babies were crying, but I was the only parent who got called? Picking on the new kid. I guess one started crying and the other two cried along too - for moral support. I don't know who started crying first, but Dash was crying last (he likes to win). Again, I got him chilled out and went back to the sanctuary. 20 minutes later, his number flashed up again, so I went back again. He was quite a site. He was in a high chair trying to catch his breath from excessive crying and in between sobs, he was cramming fist-fuls of Cheerios down his mouth. He was actually ok, but he threw a fit when the worker lady walked into the next room to get him a diaper and Dash thought she left him. At that point, I just took him with me and he was fine for the rest of service. Poor little bald guy.

Dash went to the Doctor's yesterday and he's lost weight, which is incredible considering the volume of food he eats - constantly. He lost a pound the same week he ate an entire piece of Hawaiian pizza! (And it wasn't one of those skinny slices either, it was legit.) What a funny kid.

Kaed has "rookies" tryouts tonight for baseball. Weird that he has to tryout for a pitching machine league. The whole thing is crazy if you ask me. (The picture is from last spring)