Patience is....

...required!!!

Last night was DaMom's night to go to her quilting class. On these nights it's up to me and only me to get DaKids to bed.

I had it all worked out in my head; bathe them simultaneously, dry and dress DaBoy first (since he's younger), dry and dress DaGirl, head upstairs with a snack for her, play with them and read stories until Daboy get's cranky, usher him off to sleep while she continues playing, then read her a couple of stories in bed and lights out.

Some varience of this usually works, honest.

Everything was going to plan until the "Leave DaGirl to play" business. UGH.

I was in the rocker in his room while DaBoy drifted off to sleep in my arms as he normally does. Then there was a thud. It wasn't the kind of thud that would make you jump up like something just came through the roof or someone falling. It was more like a potato hitting on the floor. This is an old house, 109 this year, and there are plenty of strange noises that occur but it was the silence from DaGirl that had me worried.

I tried putting DaBoy in his crib, but he stirred and whined as I tried to free myself, so back into my arms he went and off to see what mischief she was into.

In her room is a three drawer dresser that we used as a changing table. We stored the diapers and other necessities in the top drawer. Since DaBoy was exiled from our room and banished to his room for overnight sleeping, we've been keeping the cloth diapers on the stair rail. They use the same size now and it is just easier then having to creep into her room while he's screaming for a diaper at 1,2,3,4.....am, whenever really. However we never emptied the "other" items from the top drawer of the dresser.

Apparently we should have.

DaBoy and I came around the corner to see the top drawer open, DaGirl sitting in the middle of the floor, the mini crate of wipes and......petroleum jelly sitting in front of her.

The cover of the jelly was courteously placed in the crate, as if not to get any on the floor. However DaGirl looked like she was on an easter egg hunt and the best egg was at the bottom of this vat (did I mention it was one of the BIG containers?) of petroleum jelly.

I almost flipped right there but I held my cool, calmly told her to "get your hands out of that" and got DaBoy back to his crib. And all hell broke loose. DaBoy went balistic and DaGirl started crying when I chastized her and started cleaning her up.

That gunk was all over her. What a nightmare, hands, sleeves, belly, hair and a screaming sound track to boot. Anyhow, I got her cleaned up, into new PJs and issued the order that she lost storytime privleges for the night and to get in bed.

I then went to calm DaBoy. He was so worked up he had the hicuups and even in the dim glow of a green nightlight I could see his red face. It took nearly a half hour for me to calm him down (OK, more like him to pass out). I got him into his crib without incident.

Now back to DaGirl. I could hear her chatting away and banging on her bed. As I rounded the corner I see her head drop down (remember the prairie dog analogy?). I walked over to her bed to see her head buried into the pillow and her butt up like an ostrich.

She starts snoring.
Stoicly, I stand there.
She snores louder.
I lean over her.
She snores louder still.
I chuckle.
She chuckles.

We both bust a gut Laughing.

She makes it impossible to stay mad at her. I love her for that.

Patience gets you to the good stuff.

g

How's this....

...For a view of Boston most people never see.

Why do I have this?
More to come...

Malicious Destruction of Property

When I was growing up girls were held to a higher standard. I don't remember any girl intentionally setting out to mess up, damage, or otherwise harm someone's property. That was left to the adolescent boys. Sure, the girls were conniving, scheming, defaming and probably planning the destruction, but they didn't actively participate. They would tell their boy slave to carry out the misdeed and it would be done. Almost godfatherlike. Only a lot younger, with a training bra.

I never went out and vandalized something for the hell of it. Sure, I enjoyed breaking up construction debris or other junk discarded in the woods and maybe i moved something just freak someone out, but I never damaged someones usable stuff. I didn't see the joy in it and didn't understand why other people did.

Last night was our weekly Water Babies class at our local YMCA. Our kids are close enough in age that both are in the same class. Really it's an excuse to splash around in a pool for a half hour. My kids are fish. They love the place.

Our YMCA has two pools, one is large and used for swim team practices and the other is smaller and heated. The small pool is still very big, two classes can be held in it at one time and there is still plenty of open space in the middle. There are youth and adult changing rooms conveniently located and outside of the pool area there are two "Family Changing Rooms". I emphasize this because for the last two weeks we've had to wait in the cold hallway while girls from the swim team use these changing rooms. Cold and wet 7 and 28 month old kids are not fun to be around.

Last night was stupidity at it's finest.

All of our street clothes were in the lockers in the bigger of the two rooms and a gaggle of girls were holding the room hostage while they were showering and slowly changing into their clothes. When the other room finally cleared I took the kids to into it and started getting them changed since all of their diapers and sleep stuff was in the bag we took into the pool area. My wife proceeded to beat down the door until they let her into get our stuff when she was greeted by water all over the floor and on our stuff in the lockers! They had also shot some spray soap through the grates of the locker and into my socks and underwear.

WTF!!!!

I have no idea who these children are and they don't know me. Why mess with any of our stuff? We did grab one of the swim coaches and complained at the front desk so hopefully these little $4!t$ get booted out.

Last night was far to cold and snowy to be outside, commando, in damp jeans with no socks on.

How's that for imagery?

SNOW!!!

I want to ride!!!

I'm tired of snow and cold weather.

Outside today.

Bring on the dog days of summer!!!

Protocall, what protocall?

Every third week in January our test and measurement equipment must be calibrated. Most of the equipment is inspected in house by a third party and is only tied up for one day. The few instruments that require specialized equipment must be sent out.

This practice was dictated by a government agency a few years ago when we received a multi-assembly contract for a device that flies on the USAF C130 and NOAA P3 "Hurricane Hunters'. This cal check is really in the company's best interest because it guarantees that we're not getting false data due to an equipment mafunction or drift.

SO it should be of no surprise to anyone when the equipment that has been scattered to the four corners of building is collected and this cal is performed.

Right...

One of the software geeks was looking for an AFG (arbitrary function generator - HOW DO YOU CALIBRATE SOMETHING THAT'S ARBITRARY?) today which was boxed up and ready for pickup. Well, one of our esteemed fearless leaders barks out this gem "Open the box, get it back here, if you need to use it we shouldn't let them disturbe our development. It's a courtesy afterall."

ugh?!

Me and My Blog

I am not a writer.
I am not a linguist.
I am not a programmer.
There will be errors on this blog in those areas.

I am an engineer who feels he's constantly designing the same things over and over but each product is slightly different. The same questions are asked and the same noncommittal answers are given.

I dabble in too many hobbies.

I like to ride my bikes.

My intention for this blog is not to entertain so much as it to inform and record some of the goings on in my life.

g

Silly Sick Kid

Imagine if you will, a 2 year old with a nasty cold, running nose, watery eyes and double ear infections. It's bedtime and she's been fighting you most of the way. You get her into her winter standard bedtime apparel (cloth diaper, tank top, and fleece footed PJs) You read a couple of stories to her in bed then turn the lights out (something else for her to complain about). You turn on the lullaby CD in the player and camp out in the chair designated the "guards' post". If you don't, she'll get out of her toddler bed and trash her room only waking herself up more.

It's difficult to discern an actual snore from the lumberjack working on a cord of firewood. Just when you think it's safe to get up and leave a head pops up (prairie dog style) over the "catch fence" scan for your position and recedes back. This little act goes on for nearly 12 songs. Finally you think she's asleep and get up to rescue your dear spouse who's been pinned down by the 7 month old who's starting with the same cold.

You get the boy down and asleep and think WOW that only took and hour and a half. Free and clear to head downstairs for a fun evening of CLEANUP. But first you let the dog out because he's got "that" look in his eye. The dog is taking forever and you hear some rustling coming over the baby monitor and some thumps on the floor. Now you are becoming increasingly agitated because you know she's up and about but the dog is taking so long you can't get upstairs fast enough to stop her from whatever she's doing.

Finally the dog comes back in and appears to say thanks. You were downstairs for less than five minutes and you race upstairs, get to her doorway, open the gate to her room and see the toy basket has moved and a strange, light colored, pile you don't remember from before. You look toward the middle of the room and what do you see? A completely naked 2 year old babbling at you (she does not really talk yet).

What do you do? You ask her why did you take off your clothes? To which she replies (shrug) ung
Then what do you do? You laugh your ass off.

g