Monday, August 12, 2013

Old Faithful has some competition, and who says going out is a bad thing?

Rule # 1 - Little Awesome can't read.

Rule # 2 - Don't believe everything you read or hear.

Rule # 3 - If you disagree with any of these rules, please refer to rule # 1 & 2.

If you're not a parent yet, keep reading.  If you are a parent, keep reading anyway and enjoy the trip down memory lane...
Old Faithful is nature's biggest description of acid re-flux.  Or, if you like, if Mother Earth was a baby - then Old Faithful is spit up.  Impressive.  Predictable.  Vast.  Tourists line up to photograph this phenomenon, ancient scholars to a degree could have set their watches to it, others just simply marveled at its wonder.

So it is with Little Awesome.  We have shown our son the labels on the formula can - "Reduces spit up" it says, "Great for upset tummies - Soothing for babies!" it promises.  Time and time again these litanies of well being and normalcy for baby, and for parents alike... Refer to Rule # 1.

My son apparently has a thing for waiting.  Waiting to lure us into a false sense of security.  He's not malicious, not yet, he's just trying it on for size.  He's been a little backed up in the plumbing department as of late.  Think of a septic tank that is too full before the enzymes can do their magic.  What happens?  A well trained cleaning crew - that's what.  The look of calm on his face while eating is one of poetry, song, and paint.  Very serene and ripe for admiring.  I enjoy feeding my son, watching his little hands in hopes that the day will come when he grasps on to the bottle, and I, will be the lucky one holding him when he does it so that I may brag to my friends like the Dad in "A Christmas Story" when he won the Leg Lamp.

But, therein lies the false sense of security.  Just when you think you've got things mastered and YOU are the Baby Whisperer, it happens.  Niagara Falls. A scene straight from The Exorcist - blech!  Spit up would not be bad if it were only a few times a day.  Alas, earwax.  L.A. has decided that he would like to be the Pioneer to make Spitting Up an Olympic Sport.  If so, I would be a proud father for sure.  I would brag equally as much.

The difficult part in all of this is not that he spits up, and not that he tries to immediately run his hands and face through it.  It is the smiling face that instantly follows the clean up process.  He knows by know (I'd like to think so anyway, let me dream) that we don't like the clean up process.  So he does what comes naturally to an Awesome, we turn the charm up to eleven.

Mrs. Awesome:     "I think it stopped, did it stop?"

Mr. Awesome:     "Hang on, let me go get the Shop Vac!"

Little Awesome:    *Beaming Bucket of Cute*


Little Awesome hasn't read in the Parenting magazine that the valve that is between the mouth and the stomach should supposedly close in the fourth month.  I hope he doesn't read rule # 2.

We took our son to the Naval Aviation Museum this weekend, as we had friends in from out of town - so free is always fine.  Our arrival was near closing time unfortunately... If you have never made it to this area to see this wonderful attraction, I would suggest you make it part of your next trip.  The best part of our visit wasn't all the planes, or the helicopter that L.A.'s Uncle painted - It was a group of ladies who were part of the custodial crew that stopped us on the way out to be subjected to my son's merciless flirting.

Ladies:    "Oh isn't he the cutest thing?"

Little Awesome:     *Beaming Bucket of Cute*

And on and on they go, singing praises and glory, laud, and honor, etc, etc, etc.

And all I can do is look at my wife and be thankful for everything she does all day every day.  She loved me enough to give me this gift of a beaming bucket of cute.  I'll take two helpings of spit up please.