Sunday, February 27, 2011

The New Pecking Order ... Or Why I Love My Job

[Warning: this posting contains scatological references that may not be suitable for young readers (but will probably delight anyone who enjoys the idea of the Jeffs covered in it).]

Hi, gang, sorry for the long delay between postings.  We're slowly getting used to the new pecking order at home and the "adorable little angels" are just now giving us a break.

Before we get into the latest update, here are the vitals: the kids are growing like weeds!  Woo hoo!  In the first six days that they were home, Kaden gained a pound and Jenny gained 7 oz.  We were elated.  This week's results were even better: in seven days, Kaden gained another pound (a 7 pound behemoth) and, even more shocking, so did Jenny (all 5 lbs, 10 oz of her)!

Given that their reward for so much great work was a vaccination shot, I doubt that they will keep up this pace.  On the other hand, they don't really have a choice: every three hours, like clockwork, they get another bottle  Given how much we are feeding them, you would think that we were making goose liver pate.

So, here they are ... the new, bigger, and (if you can believe it!) even better Jenny Lynn and Kaden (no, they're not fighting ... at least not yet):

Just look at those adorable round little faces (and Alix, thanks for the outfits; the kids love 'em).

In other news, we've slowly come to understand the new pecking order around the house:

First, it's Jenny and Kaden.  No question.  They may only be a month old, but they are firmly in charge.  Despite my best efforts, they absolutely refuse to be properly potty trained, sleep through the night, or pick up after themselves.  And, as they taught us today, they make the rules around the house: we're still allowed to have dinner parties, but only if they start by 5:30 pm and end by 6:00.  "PM" that is.  Not like the old days when we could easily stretch a few (dozen) bottles of wine into the wee hours of the morning.  After Jeff and I tried a (small) repeat performance last night, the Twinkies decided to make it clear that they like their schedule just fine, thank you.  No deviations. No interruptions. Nothing fancy.  Just feeding, peeing, pooping, and sleeping (sometimes all at the same time).

After the kids comes Glorious Gloria.  If the kids don't rule the roost, she does.  "Jump!"  "How high?" I'm not embarrassed to admit it: if you can guarantee me six hours of sleep, I will do whatever you say, too.

Third, is Jeff.  Hee hee.  Okay, I had to put that in there, if only to humor him.

Then, at the bottom of the totem pole is me.  And this is why I love my job.  At least there, sometimes (rarely, but sometimes) my colleagues will pretend to listen to me.  Not at home.

The problems with being at the bottom of the heap are obvious.  If you've forgotten, just remember what they say about sh*t rolling downhill.  Kaden was kind enough to give Jeff and me a reminder.  Oh, and it doesn't so much "roll gently downhill" as "thoroughly coat everything in its path".

Last night, about 1:15 in the morning, after a nice dinner with family and friends, after getting full bottles into both kids, after burping and changing a sweet (read: "clean and quiet") Jenny, Jeff started to change Kaden only to discover that Kaden had a blow out of record proportions.  We finally know where all of the formula we've been stuffing into him over the last month went.  Everywhere.

As those of you who have been here before know, formula is a liquid with few, if any, binders, yet, when it comes out the other end, has this amazing viscosity that defies physics.  On one hand, it will flow from place to place like water.  On the other, it will stick to anything that it touches like superglue.  Kaden's onesie?  Yep.  Jumper?  Yep.  His entire clean change of clothes?  Yep.  Jeff S.?  Yep.  Jeff A.?  Double yep.  The half box of wipes that we plastered to him?  Yep.  The giant towel we used?  Yep.  The drop cloth that we almost threw over him in desperation?  Yep.  Just about the only thing that it did not adhere to was Kaden's diaper.

This all would have been an unpleasant and exhausting, but tolerable, pain if it had happened to Jenny.  She would have laid there getting progressively more annoyed, but probably would have kept the announcement of her displeasure to a level slightly below that of a low lying jet flying directly overhead.

But this was Kaden, who differs from Jenny in many respects, particularly in that he (1) goes from "off" to "full throated melt down" in microseconds (no gentle progression for our little boy) and (2) has a wail that makes a sonic boom sound mild in comparison.

So, while we were desperately trying to clean up his home-made superglue and stop it from spreading like a toxic ooze, he was letting our friends in southern California know that he was being tortured mercilessly and that they should send for help immediately.  Thankfully, one of our neighbors is fostering a stray dog with "separation anxiety" who started howling at the sound of Kaden's screaming and didn't stop until this morning.  It was so bad that the neighbors had to walk around the block dropping off apology notes on everyone's doorstep.  (On a side note, we're proud of our little boy for already learning the valuable lesson of "blaming it on the dog".)

Thankfully, 20 minutes, a full box of wipes, and two changes of clothes later (plus a detox shower for each of his Daddies), Kaden was clean and sound asleep, acting as if nothing had happened.

Nevertheless, kiddo, we could not be happier.  And, as Mary says with cake, "Welcome Home".


  1. Beautiful babies! Lovely Jennie and guys are a hoot. I remember those blaster poops very well, from when my daughter, Jen, was a baby. Awesome messy, yes!

  2. OMf'inG. This was hilarious. You are too funny and the kiddos too cute.