Day 461: The Middle Way

A midday entry.

It occurred to me that this might be the best way to do this daily routine of mine; the writing of this blog, to write it at the midway point of the day, when Jeannette and the baby are asleep and I've already worked all morning.

Jeannette wouldn't have to be asleep right now if she didn't want to, anxious and willing as I was to take Blaze up and try putting him in his crib for an afternoon nap, to supplement the nighttime crib experiences of late. We were trying to finish up lunch and he was just sitting next to us in his feeding chair*

*a high chair that comes with a bucket you can attach to your baby's face, like a horse, so you don't have to keep raising your arm to shovel food into his mouth. We got it with an American Pharaoh Triple Crown commemorative pack. Sponsored by Monsanto. **Not true.

Anyway, we weren't finished eating and he was getting whiney in his chair, rubbing at his eyes and all that, so I said I'd take him up so she could eat. Instead of thanking me and FINISHING HER FOOD, she did everything but push me out of the way and slap my mouth closed, seemingly quite intent on going to nap with him, even when she had said she has so much to do. 

"Then why take him up when I'm offering to put him down for a nap?" I asked. 

"Because I love him," she answered, with nothing rational or reasonable to say other than lowering herself to such base and savage tactics as to insinuate I don't! She pulled the love card, like I'm some sado-masochistic psychopath who revels in putting a baby in his crib and listening to him wail and bash his head off the side all day. Oh yeah, that really gets me going. Love that.

Heresy! Of the highest order. 

This kid has him mom wrapped around the smallest of his massive sausage fingers (my dad's) and knows it. He all but winked at me as she took him upstairs, bobbing up and down with that big shit eating grin on his face, like a little pharaoh himself, being carried off on his golden litter by the harem of doting females that attend to his every whim and desire. I'm jealous of course. I admit that freely and willingly, knowing by this point in our relationship you know nothing could be further from the truth and that I'm just being a bit of a whiney schlep for effect. Nevertheless, dear old dad does have to step up his game with this kid soon, or it'll be grim times in the years to come. 

Jeannette: "Hey, just a heads up, Blaze wants to turn your office into a toy room." 
Me: "But.. but.." 
Jeannette: "No buts, pack up your shit and head out to the yard. I put a tarp and four sticks out on the lawn. That should keep your computers dry enough until you can figure out where to relocate this winter." 

And off I'll go, head down, spirit broken, like an animate phantom, already replaced in this world by his male offspring before the extremities that make up the body are even partially dead and cold.

I won't have it! It's going to be a difficult battle, taking on such a cute little kid like this, when I'm already knee deep in ticks and trying to implement my plan of world domination through a memory revolution, but if anyone is up for it it's me. I'm all about challenges guys, always have been. I'm a thwarter of obstacles! Though the majority of them have been either internal or rather easily scalable, what with modern day ladders and all. So taking on a 20 pound sack of animate giggling smart meat like this (I speak now of Blaze, in case you're lost) is going to be intense and heavy work. 

She was only partially happy with my tick declaration yesterday. It seems if one of them bites me she'll not be calling for my long flowing locks to be cut at all, and would settle for the beard. But we'll see. I know Blaze heard the blog entry when I read it to her this morning as well, so he's now aware of the stakes. I wouldn't put it past him to use his exceptionally developed cunning to devise some way of getting me bitten, even if just so there's the slim possibility his dad will have his hair taken away. He's taken to feeding me his soother, after I've started playing with it to make him laugh, so I'll have to smell each offering now so that I may detect any potential knock out agents, or paralysis poisons. 

He didn't sleep very well last night, and wouldn't settle down after I gave him a bottle at 3am or so. We lay in bed listening to it for as long as we could -Jeannette mostly, I was able to fall back to sleep rather easily, despite the shrieks and crocodile tears- until finally she got up and went in with him. Evidently he remained pretty unsettled for quite some time after that until finally falling asleep in the arms of his beautiful -but weak willed- mother (there, I said it) until waking her up some time later with a soother to the right eyeball.

I'm still studying the concept and am no where near an expert level of understanding yet, but I'm pretty sure that's what is meant by the term "karma", though I do recognize there might be something more to it; surely something that should be far less satisfying for me -the goal of all this religious mumbo jumbo being to get us to a point where we don't revel in the payback delivered to others.., after all. 

Well that's it for today. Now that I'm done my entry, and it's still so early in the day, I will return to my work and wish you all well wherever you are... either inwardly or outwardly. Which is to say spiritually or geographically.