Downtime

What to say? It is 9:00 on a Friday. Both kiddies have finally settled and I'm drinking a beer, perusing the net - just like old times! Let's update, shall we?

Henry: this boy is, apparently, enormous. He is just over 3 months old and weighs half as much as Lydia, who is 26 months his senior. That is to say he is over 15 pounds and wearing clothing for 12 month olds. He can also dunk. Bam! As for his insane bowel movement schedule (sorry Henry, and everyone else) - instead of having one single continuous BM, all day every day, Henry saves it all up for 3-4 days. The result: having to literally cut Mr. Henry out of his clothing for an emergency mid-day bath. It's like he's trying to hide from the Predator (that joke was disgusting, and nerdy, and it probably didn't make sense). He has also laughed (see pic two posts below), and is pretty good to smile on command. Babies, man... babies.

Lydia: her new obsessions are (i) jumping on the bed, (ii) watching Toopy & Binoo and (iii) sitting on the toilet and pretending to read fashion magazines - all of which can, and are, used as stall tactics when pressured to do, well, anything but jumping on the bed, watching Toopy & Binoo or sitting on the potty. To be fair, though, Toopy & Binoo is pretty funny. She can also read me a story, or at least pretend to while looking at the familiar pictures. Hers is a memory not yet stunted by alcohol and late nights and loud music. Toddlers, man... toddlers.

Cleo: still fat.

Tank: still pretty annoying.

My laptop: almost out of disk space and brutally slow. It gives me anxiety. It is an anxiety machine.

REM: have a new album out, and I probably won't buy it or listen to it. I gave up after Up.

My fantasy hockey team: Les Youppis! are solid in fourth place (of 12), sitting firmly in playoff position. My goalies now include Boucher (PHI) and Reimer (TOR, ugh); Halak was shipped off in a trade for a dizzy Brad Richards. I like my chances, or I at least like to tell myself that I like my chances. Either way - from your perspective, I like my chances.

Pixies: I'm-a goin!

There. If you care.