On Cabin Fever...

This full disclosure…thing I’m doing here is getting a little uncomfortable. I’m starting to realize that I don’t really advertise myself in the best of light. I’m not saying I eat puppies or anything, although I have heard from my sources that dog is a good meal. I’m just saying that it must amaze some folks that anyone, particularly my someone, would be interesting in a lifelong commitment to me. Much less procreation of any sort, which I’d like to point out once again did happen. Whatever. I have idiosyncrasies, big deal. It’s not like I’m pining away to be you. I know about your life, and besides, your shoulders are hairy.

You might as well know though, that I consider myself a master homebody. That is, I’ve got some aptitude for not liking to go out much. That’s not to say I never go out. In fact, I believe that bowling alleys hold an allure that I’m basically powerless to stop. One look at my pre-Kaleigh credit card will tell you that I’m not exactly allergic to restaurants either. But with a 3 hour round trip commute each day from work, plus a second job at an undisclosed “trend” store that may start with a P and end in ottery Barn, I certainly don’t hate getting home and kicking back.

My wife is a “doer” in her own terminology. While I knew of her Christmas tree habits before hand, I don’t think I realized that she also came from a tribe of doers. During and after college, one of the things she particularly liked to “do” was dance. Now, it may come as no surprise, but I don’t like the night life…I don’t like to boogie. I can “get down” if I have to. Some may say that my coordinated mating dance was what attracted her in the first place. It may also have been the plumage…get your mind out of the gutter…I meant my clothing style. However, some of our more epic disagreements have revolved around her wanting to go out and me wanting to…die.

I remember distinctly leering in smug satisfaction as the pediatrician told my wife and I to not take Kaleigh out in public for a couple of months. I had won a victory. The woman would have to admit defeat for two blissful months. And it was medical too…that’s some kind of science I think. You can’t question science. I could virtually see movies flying of the Netflix queue at record…no, Olympic record pace. And I had a new ally with Tivo. It was like a double barrel blast of time wasting goodness.

I was wrong. So very, very wrong. Not that I think it is some kind of mental illness, but if you want the cure to homebody…uh, ness, then I suggest you get yourself one of these infant things. Suddenly your utopia of docility becomes something all together ugly…something that I had not had much experience with…Cabin Fever. While not technically a true fever, I think I’d rather have something physically wrong…just so long as I can leave the house!

As bad as it is for me, I atleast get to go to work. That’s supposed to be some sort of freakin’ consolation I guess. My wife however...let’s just say when I return home, her eyes…well, they are wild. Hair isn’t pulled out…yet, but it certainly is disheveled. I’m serious too. I, being the model husband, told my wife to get out the house one evening this week. So she did. She called to tell me she was just driving around…I won’t claim it was driving aimlessly…but she didn’t have a destination. If you just drive around in Northern Virginia to relax…you’ve got Cabin Fever…chronically.

So you can imagine that I am pining away for the day of ballet, soccer practice and brownie/girl scouts (and not just for the cookies). You can also not be surprised when we show up on your doorstep…

On Tree Philanthropy...

I know the season is beyond us now, but I can never resist the temptation to get one final parting shot in to prove how right I am on an issue. In this case, I’m not only right, but possibly one of the saviors of mankind. It seems there is another reason that you fake Christmas tree…people…are to be condemned. CNN ran an article yesterday that identifies why real Christmas trees are not only superior, but moral as well. Huh. I wonder what your plastic needles and pinecones are good for? Do let me know when you get the chance.

This avian flu thing really isn’t a joke, and I don’t mean to make it out as one in my otherwise ridiculous blog space. I did find it interesting though what can possibly be done with discarded trees. I guess mulch isn’t all they are good for after all.

On Ultimatums...

When exactly is the time that you start, you know, training your child to not be that girl? I am speaking of the hellaciousness that was our past night. I shall remember it eternally as the night she would not do that thing that all of us generally do…sleep. In other words, it was The Night Of No Sleep. Or maybe: The Night Of Anti-Sleep. Seriously, there was a vortex in my bedroom last night and it was consuming my ability to snooze…

…are you getting the point? Do you understand that I am posting with very few of my witty faculties about me? Are you impressed that I, at one point, had a faculty? Someday I hope to have a staff. Someone to write these dialogues we have going between us…that is, you and I…so that I can nap.

To this end, I write an open letter to one Kaleigh Madison:

“Kaleigh,

We, your parents (I will speak for my wife in this case) have concluded that your antics on the night of 22 Jan and the following morning of 23 Jan were unacceptable and highly inconsistent with our family’s stated position on sleeping. Frankly, missy, when I rock you for 30 minutes at 2:00a.m, and you close your eyes to sleep, I expect that you are being honest and forthright and are not just waiting for me to lay you in your bassinet before resuming your crying. I can appreciate being sneaky from time to time. I like a good practical joke, but really, it stopped being funny the third time in a row.

And while on the subject of crying, if you are not wet, soiled, hungry or hot/cold, kindly provide us some kind of explanation…perhaps even a sign as to what ails you so that we may make every effort to provide you comfort. While I am happy that you are already starting out bilingual, you must remember that neither your mother nor I speak “Wah”….although your mother has been known to whine at times…but that is not the same dialect.

In addition, your mother would like to remind you that she works hard to provide you a healthy and full meal every three hours or so… It would be nice if you could be awake during those time periods without us resorting to cold washcloths to assure your proper attention. Failure to comply will meet with the introduction of ice. Don’t you think I’m bluffing neither kiddo. I’m skilled with all forms of ice torture and you will wake up. It would also do you and especially your mother’s psyche good to retain all food that enters your body. We are a pro-milk family, so you just need to learn to like it and not spit it up all over the place. Particularly not on anything that needs to be dry cleaned.

I’m sure we can come to some sort of agreement here. I propose that we come up with a schedule. You may remain a cute, lovable and occasionally cranky infant during the hours of 5:30a.m.-10:00p.m. Your best behavior is expected during the other hours. That mainly means sleep when asked to. And if you must act out, please use your “inside voice” and we will get along famously.

Sincerely,
Your Father and Mother"

Kaleigh is a good girl mostly. But do not be surprised if sometime in the near future I have to call you over to participate in an intervention. We are going to nip this in the bud right now…

Right. Now.

On Hiatus...

I don’t know where to even start. You may have noticed my conspicuous absence from the blogosphere for the past three weeks. Some of you may have even heckled me one of my comments sections. Heckling is, of course, the highest form of flattery and I thank you profusely.

I would like to put to rest the rumors that have swirled around my absence. I was not, in fact, saving the world from certain destruction. I am no Jack Bauer, even though I am currently enjoying a Netflix orgy detailing his adventures. I also have not run out of things to say. No, the Halls of Mental Midgetry have been particularly raucous of late with all sorts of blog worthy items. And for once, I can claim that it wasn’t laziness that kept me from my writing duties….well, not solely at least.

Because I like to pretend that thousands of people who don’t know me in real life read this, I will act like you didn’t know that the aforementioned Kaleigh Madison joined us recently. It is also worthy to note that although scheduled to be delivered on 9 January, Kaleigh decided on other plans. That is to say, water broke when it was not supposed to and Kaleigh arrived almost a full week early. She must have heard my opinions on planning and decided she agreed with Dad. This is something I hope to see more of quite frankly.

Weighing in at 6 pounds and 13 ounces, and 19 inches long, I was surprised to find that such tiny fingers could have me wrapped around them already. Life has certainly taken a turn for the surreal as both my wife and I adjust to having another person…a very little person, living with us. We are also adjusting to Kaleigh’s notion that nighttime is for being awake and daytime is for being comatose. This is not totally unlike her mother during our college years… I, of course, believe that being comatose is appropriate for all times.

I will catch up with you more tomorrow. Right now, I think I’ll try and catch up on some sleep. I’ve never slept as well as a I do here at work….