The gas crisis is getting better, so hopefully we'll be getting to the end of that tunnel rather soon.
We've come to grips that L.A. is getting older, as we are one month and five days into his life. I, for one, and super stoked that I have not been responsible for any broken bones... yet. However, if I wake up in the middle of the night I find myself staying awake to listen to see if my son is breathing. That turns my mind into overdrive and it's typically an hour before I can wind down again. Now, Mrs. Awesome has mastered the broad range scan super prolific hearing technique (which really sounds cool when said with a Scottish accent). So, here I am all ears sonar, while Mrs. Awesome is blissfully asleep - and L.A. makes some slight gurgle and she's up - "Dear, I think he spit up can you check?" Of course I can check, I am the Omnipresent father who has been listening, not that I will find anythi...
Silently I curse my testosterone muddled cochlea and shuffle off to get a Kleenex.
Little Awesome has also decided that since it is summer, it is time to wear swimwear 24/7 unless attending one of Nana's tea parties. So diapers it is until October which makes changing time a breeze. Which these days has become incredibly more frequent and productive. Ever irritated by the gas crisis, L.A. has moved on to a new, alternative form of energy research - pee. He is convinced that the copious productivity springing forth from his being will somehow redirect gravitational pull and cause a spontaneous cold fusion that will be so spectacular it will rival any Jimi Hendrix guitar solo ever played. I am merely convinced that I will have to change shirts more frequently and invest in chalk to mark the distance on the hardwood floors - shunning my career to become a bookie for what could be a new Olympic sport.
Be awesome everyone. Thanks for stopping by and don't forget to join our little group. We're glad to see you.