Episode 94: The little adult

Life is a lot cooler when you are 1 and you can tool around in a swim diaper all day generally not giving a damn. That is Av at the beach on Monday, no doubt about to steal another kid's toy or take off running for the water.

The July 4th barbecue extravaganza was kind of a success on most counts, although the first day of grilling did hit some snags when we realized that my $35 Walmart grill wasn't exactly up for any sort of heavy duty burger cooking. Alas, the sausages and chicken came out Ok, though, and other than a brief bout with the meat sweats on Sunday night it was a good time.
As you can see here we decided that we were going to be the most patriotic family we could be on the 4th. It was more of a mockery than an actual effort, but it turned out being pretty sweet. Monica found my modern, hi-def-looking eagle shirt in a Walmart bargain bin, while I found her more retro-styled eagle t-shirt crumpled in to a ball underneath some novelty American flag hats at the ghetto Walgreens downtown. If you can't read the baby's, it says "Rock on America!" with a cartoon America playing air guitar. Awesome. Also, I am sure Monica will be pumped that I posted a picture of her making that sour lemons face.

One thing that everyone kept pointing out over the weekend was how big Av has gotten. I tend to agree, but I guess I just don't notice it as much since I see her every day, but she really has become kind of a little adult. Most of what she does on a daily basis is hysterical. She can identify things like body parts, and she understands the concept of saying goodbye an hello. Funniest, though, is that she is now starting to understand when she or other people go to the bathroom. She loves to follow Monica in to the bathroom when she goes and can be frequently heard saying "bye bye doo doo" when the toilet flushes. Hysterical.

Around the house she is just busy as can be. Pretending to sweep the floor, watering the flowers, introducing various stuffed friends to one another. Her two favorite toys at the moment are a large rubber turtle that we got last weekend on our day trip to Rockport and a mechanical elephant who she has pretty much fallen in love with. She even makes him wear a diaper now.

My anxiety over having nothing to do has subsided a little bit. I have found enough chores and picked up enough shifts at work to make sure that I feel relatively useful the past couple of weeks, but now I am finding that ridicule is heading my direction for not doing enough. I knew that this would happen and I tried to avoid it, but sure enough, I have started to apparently get a little bit too lazy and comfortable being home all day. It isn't so much of a keep the house clean thing, it is more of a sleeping in too many mornings in a row or not paying attention to when the baby is hindering Monica's ability to eat or take a shower. The issue here is the same issue every man has with every woman. Communication. We need to be told what to do. Don't ever assume that we know, because chances are we don't and we aren't paying attention. That is free dating advice to any single ladies out there. Just tell us what you want us to do and we'll do it. Got it? Good luck.

8-hour weight loss program

I am not one to bitch about heat, ever, because I despise winter with everything that I have and on those brutal 30 degree days when it is wet and slushy and I have to move my car a half mile away so they can plow the streets I pray for 90 degree days. That said, yesterday was one of the most miserable days of my entire life. The temperature broke 100 in most areas around here and despite three air conditioners abusing my electric bill I was still sweltering hot. (The baby has made hot weather a little more humorous lately now that she identifies hot things by going "ssssssssssssss" Now when we walk outside and it is hot, or we get in to a hot car she just goes "sssssssssss" Priceless.)

After a day of sweat, more sweat and a few involuntary heat naps I was actually looking forward to going to work. I knew that since it was hot out people wouldn't want to cook, so I expected it to be busy, and I also knew that we have a cranking AC in that place. So much so that some regular customers bring in sweatshirts in the summer in preparation. So, imagine my horror when I walked in to work and felt a blast of warm air coming from the vents. Yes, despite the AC being set at 69 degrees, the coldest section of the restaurant- the walkway- was about 75. Everywhere else was in the high 80's, including behind the bar where my sweaty mess of a self ran around at half speed all night long trying to help customers.

Most of the people who came in were pretty understanding, but some were just idiots. Like the lady that asked me to turn the AC on. Oh, sure lady. I'll go ahead and do that. Thanks for reminding me. I knew there was something I forgot to do tonight. Or the other guy who moved seats 56 times trying to find a vent. Just go somewhere else, dude. At this point you're wasting your time. Anyway, the night was pretty miserable, but I sweat out about five pounds and most of the customers felt bad enough for me to add about five percent to their tips, so I guess it worked out.