Babies Won’t Keep

Why haven't I posted the entire story of my child's birth yet?

Why did I have to set a reminder in my Outlook Calendar to do the dishes?

Why is the only basic email communication I've had between my mother and the 73-year old retired Welshman I play online chess with?

Why is my beard scratchy with new growth and my crotch jungley with unwashing?

Because babies won't keep.

I have Wifeage to thank for this house remaining in working condition while I am not, as he's still getting up for a feed a lot at night and that's Dad Duty (in exchange for doing little else mind you... I didn't even grow him in my belly, so I'm getting off light).

Wonderful, beautiful, amazingly capable and rocking this shit out of everything Wifeage sent me this poem, and I challenge you to read the entire thing, out loud, without getting allergies in your eyes.

It's paraphrased a bit by Wifeage, but that only makes it awesomer:

Song for a Fifth Child

(Fourth works just as well ;)

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 his 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.

***

See?  I can't even copy and paste it here without getting a bit misty.

Just about everybody I know sometimes needs a really bulletrpoof argument against housekeeping, and here's mine:

When they're 19 and out on their own and talking agnstily with their other young and angsty friends, do you want them chiming in the parent-bashing with, "Yeah, my parents never had any fun with me either.  They thought going to the shops and riding the choo-choo thing was fun for me!"

Or do you want them to say, "My parents weren't slobs, but they weren't big on cleaning.  They made me do housework whenever I was in trouble, which was fairly common/hardly at all, but Saturday Mornings ALWAYS meant cartoons, pancakes and loud music in the kitchen while they danced with us and sometimes made out with each other... ewwwwwww."

Now, if you'll excuse me, Ben 10: Alien Force is on.

Posted by JuddHole

This blog was the one that changed everything in my life, so it stands to reason that it continue to do so. I hope it starts with my underwear.

Bouncing Babies Gets You in Trouble

Not to throw the wifeage under the bus, she's been through a lot lately what with having a major abdominal surgery to pull a baby out, suddenly turning Jersey Milk Cow and having so many hormones running through her blood I wonder sometimes if she'll actually shapeshift like Martin Short in "Innerspace".

BUT... the reason I haven't updated with the entire baby saga is her fault.

She's a perfectionist, you see, and if there are pictures that are going up of our wonderful little bundle of joy then she wants them to have gone through her ardent ninja-like set of photo editing skills. So, I have a post, it's waiting on pictures, and no I won't put it up yet (I like my testicles where they are).

In the mean time, I can tell you this: Andrew James Exley came into this outside world at 4:33 PM on April 20th and has napped ever since. He was HUGE at 55cm (97th percentile) and almost 8 pounds. Hefty boy.

He's perfect and gorgeous and even though naming him was a bloody SAGA we're so, So, SO happy with everything about him. Oh alright, here's a pic or two:

He spends a lot of time doing this, which is fine by us because it means we don't get interrupted while we're absolutely MOONING over him. I mean, godDAMN this kid is gorgeous!

I suppose I'm actually okay with her being a perfectionist. It may slow up my blog posts, but look at the people she makes.

Posted by JuddHole

This blog was the one that changed everything in my life, so it stands to reason that it continue to do so. I hope it starts with my underwear.

Can Somebody Please Name This Baby?

Just for fun, and because we happened to get a bit of extra scratch in the ol' pockets, we went and had a lady do the goopscan on Jo's tummy.

We all got up early to fight the peak-hour traffic and trundled the entire clan up to North Perth for a sneak peek at the new arrival (sidenote: HOLY SHIT HE'S HERE IN TWO WEEKS).

First thing we saw in the really cool and lumpy and weird 3-D imagery?

BALLS.

A big 'ol eyeful of my boy's package.  Man, what a boy.  That's a boy.  Boy-oh-BOY is that a BOY.  I'm not posting that pic.  Just know that it's... WOW.

We got some good shots of his foot in his face and then his hands in his face.  Which, when you're talking 3D sonography imaging magications, means I thought he was like that Stephen King short story where the guy grows plants out of his orifices, but not in the cool Batman Villain Poison Ivy way.

Turns out, there's just a perfectly healthy and fat little boy in there.  Which is awesome.

Except he doesn't have A NAME.

What's he look like?  A Patrick?  A Michael?  A Duncalladadegh?  I'm sorta stuck.

Wife's had her "tunings" where she dreamt she was telling people "No, it's NOT 'leef' it's 'layf'."  She took that to mean his name might be "Leif".  But we werent' sure.  Well, she wasn't sure.  I was sure that I wanted to wait until I met him.

See, that can sound like the kind of cop-out a dad makes, buying himself time until bubs is out.  But I said it with Jade last time and I meant it.  Then, at the 19-week scan for her, I "met" her, and that was that.

His widdle hand is in his widdle face because he's so BIG in mummy's tummy.  He's so goddam CUTE that we're just besotted!

Still no name though.

Look at his little eyebrows!

I think he even looks like ME already!

Still no name though.

So what I did was get a bunch of little bits of paper and write letters on them.  Like Scrabble, only for your child's name.  I knew what letters I liked and I had a few names I liked, that seemed to be enough.

I started with "Leif" and then shifted things around in a Scrabbly way.

I really liked "Kieran" because his middle name will be "James" and that would make him "KJ" or "Cage" as a nickname.  That's pretty bad ass, no matter which way you slice it.

It's Celtic/Irish, which me and wife both dig, and it means "Little Dark One."

But, after seeing what he's packing, I just don't think I can give him any name that involves "little".

"Liam" was a nice one.  A bit overused these days for wife's tastes, but I liked it.  I wanted to meet him though, and I don't think he's a "Liam".  Plus, the first time I saw it was for "Liam Neeson" and, after my mother explained that most actors change their names to be stars, I thought that was a silly and made-up name.

Now THIS one... oh dear.  I mean, it's overused (according to Wifeage) and it's the same as very popular jeans.

Can't help it though, I really love "Levi".

On the drive home though, we both reckoned we were really feeling "Levi", and that was about as close as we've come to landing one.

Still no name though.

This is the kind of name that mixing letters up in my Scrabbletastic way.  I started with "Nathan" and then "Leam" and mixed the two.  I was kind of hoping for one of those A-HA! moments.

None came.

Now, there's a certain sister-in-law, who shall remain nameless, who love, Love, LOVES this one, but I just can't see it.

WEIRD though, she just popped up on my MSN while I was typing that.  She's suggested "Nicholas", which Jo and I both liked and is already my nephew's (brother's youngest) name.  Much as I LOVED John Cusack's line in "The Sure Thing" about why you name your kid "Nick", I'd get fired from The Exley Family if I did that.

Now THIS one just popped into my head while I was looking at pictures.  We'd probably bandied it about before, but I don't remember it tickling anything resembling my fancy.  But today for some reason, after looking at my little boofheaded little boy, with his giant BALLS, I'm feeling "Kyle".

Scrabblenamy Goodness is awesome, but I'm still flailing.

So I called in the Big Guns.

My little girl, Jade.

She came in and played with letters, and since she's in Kindy and learning stuff, we moved letters around and spelled new things.  Jade was quite pleased with herself when she spelled "Kyle".  I was pleased.  It was like a sign.  I thought that she'd get all mystical in her magic little ways and we had one.  Then I realised she wasn't done.

We're not naming him "Kyleyviranfamet." Not gonna happen.

Then I took ALL the letters, and spelled "Kyle", "Levi" and "Ryan" with some left over.

I put it to wife almost exactly that way too:

"Hey baby, I've got 'Kyle'..."

*eyes widen* "I likes..."

"I've got 'Ryan'..."

*widens eyes again* "Thought you didn't like that one?"

"I've got 'Levi'..." *knowing little nod*

*returns little nod* "I've been feeling that one all day..."

"And..." *pauses for effect* "MAFT."

*laughs until she snorts* "Wait honey... what if it's 'FAMT'?"

Pretty good thus far.  I reckon we're both thinking "Levi".

Also, NOT "Famt".

Levi James Exley is a pretty badass name.

Kyle James Exley is pretty badass too.

The question is not: Which one has more badassery?

The question really is: Is there still a Triple Choc Mars Bar in the fridge?  Or did the fatty get it?

Haha, just kidding honey.  I loves you.  And I bought 3 of those Mars Bars, just so this wouldn't be an issue.

So help me out people, please, pretty please, with Mars Bars on top.

Posted by JuddHole

This blog was the one that changed everything in my life, so it stands to reason that it continue to do so. I hope it starts with my underwear.

First Jade of School

So it's finally happened.  My little girl, my BABY, has started school.

Getting up, getting breakfast.  Wife was nervous, I was nervous, Jade was chirpy and excited.

Getting dressed, doing her hair.  Wife was nervous, I was nervous, Jade was jabbering and giddy.

Riding the bike up there, gathering outside the classroom.  I was nervous, Jade was quiet.  And stoked.

I stayed for a bit to read her a story and get her settled... A little Indonesian girl bansheed for about 5 minutes, and when I lost sight of Jade while she went to get a new book, I found her concernedly stroking the little girl's arm saying, "It's okay, you can come read a book!"  What an amazing kid.

Time came for me to go, and she bid me farewell with a kiss before running off to get a hand puppet down that looked like a cockatiel.  That was that, I was on my own.  Naturally, she had a blast.  Me and wife just felt weird all day.

"Whatcha doin' Daddy?"

"Takin' a pitcha?!?  Lemme say 'Cheeeeeese!'"

"Look, no more smile!  It's my 'sad' face!"

"Now I do my 'Dancing Face'!"

"Now I'm SCARY... I'm a scary zombie!  Braaaaaaains..."

"DADDY!  No more pitchas!  Let's go!"

************

Something in the energies of the ol' Universe shifted this year, only in contrast to the entirety of 2010, it was good.

First, I just up and decided that I was going to play some hockey.  I had an old pair of player's inline skates, my forward gloves from the US and a crappy plastic stick we found in an op-shop.  I needed a street hockey ball so that I could go to the car park near the local shops and just skate around.  Maybe even shoot the ball up against that brick wall.  Hell, I figured I'd bring some chalk and make my own "net".

So we drop in at a store called "Hockey Action", and though they really mean "field hockey" they've got a section in the back for ice hockey stuff.  At least, they did 5 years ago when I first went in there.  I didn't have any money then either, so I figured it'd have to wait until I did.  Well they've expanded into inline stuff too and while the guy got me a crappy orange street hockey ball he told me about how he runs a proper league up in Claremont.  It's even on Sport Court (what proper Roller Hockey is played on).

To say I was excited was a bit of an understatement.  I told him I needed a stick.  All he had were special composites.  $200.  Whoops, not today then.

But still.  Stoked.  So I traded emails with him about why sticks are so stupidly expensive (I can get them shipped from the US for $70 all up) and he told me about other leagues and how goalies are free here, as it should be.  I went straight home and emailed mom to ask her if she still had my old goalie skates.  Then I went to bed.

Mom found them, then emailed me.  Then couldn't wait to see if I wanted anything else shipped with them and just put them in a box and sent them off.  Go mom!

So my skates got here quickly but I needed a stick.  Well I rang the guy at the Rollerdrome in Morley and he had a couple of old sticks gathering dust that he wanted to give to me for a screamin' deal.  Stick, sorted.

Then my brother-in-law, Doc Sam, was at a garage sale in Byford (semi-rural, south of Perth) and rang me because somebody was selling a "whole bag of hockey armour" as he put it (t's hard for medieval nerds to break out of it).  His mobile reception is shite, so I can hear him chattering away about "there's a pair of gauntlets here... some... well I suppose they're basically greaves with a knee cop on them" while I'm going "elbow pads mate" and "shin guards Sam, they're just shin guards".

Well I told him I'm a goalie and I've got all the goalie stuff, and even if I wanted player's gear I only needed another stick (I broke the crappy one pretty quick) to shoot around the parking lot.  Then I rocked up to Grey Company training and saw that he'd bought the whole bag anyway.  The lady was selling it for a neighbour, and when Sam asked her to throw in the two sticks (still in decent shape) she did.

So, big and odd heart that he is, he dumped the stuff in my car and then took the gear bag "which is what I really wanted anyway...".  I told him I couldn't pay him for all the stuff and he said, "Well take the stuff you've got 2 of and put 'em on eBay."  Fair enough.

So now I've got a set of just about everything.

I'm ready to play goalie or forward on inline and I can play goalie on ice (though ice is expensive here).  I've been doing my stretching (not enough) and my PT for my back (not enough) and I'll be ready to go in a couple weeks (months).

I'm back.  I'm going to be back playing hockey again and it feels friggin' GREAT.

I'll keep this place posted with how I go.  Unless I end up in hospital.  Heh.

Wish me luck.

Posted by JuddHole

This blog was the one that changed everything in my life, so it stands to reason that it continue to do so. I hope it starts with my underwear.