My Shadow

November 18, 2008

So I have a shadow. Now one would think that it would be a large shadow generally speaking (you know, 6'5" 500lbs), but my shadow is actually relatively small (about three feet) and weights about 30 pounds. There's actually a perfectly reasonable reason why the little man is following me around all the time now (other than my awesomeness, of course). Julie is at home all the time now, so PK actually gets plenty of mommy quality time. But what that means is that when I come home, I'm like a celebrity. I go up to change, he wants to change. I wear short sleeves, he wants to wear short sleeves. Follows me everywhere. Although he has taken a little break this week because he has a fever. Dad is not so good at the cuddling -that is reserved full time for mommy.

W tend to do things like go and play some football. Of course when PK plays football, he just tackles. It -doesn't actually matter who is carrying the football - he just comes running at you at full speed and then lunges at you to try to knock you over. He's amazingly effective at knocking me over.

So it's cute having your very own shadow - but it seems like I have a shadow who is really trying his best to piss me off sometimes. It's like he finds a tender spot (say, procrastinating - which I say with a full awareness of the irony) and keeps poking it. "Does this bother you? Yes? Okay, how about this?" It's like Parker, seriously - don't lay your head on the toilet, that's just disgusting, just get ready for bed, okay?

Julie thinks that while PK probably is testing me more these days, it's more a function of the fact that I don't operate well with a lack of sleep, and so I'm operating on a pretty short fuse. I thought about it....um.....no.

And as a matter of fact nobody operates as poorly as Julie does lacking sleep. For the last two days in a row - at around 5:30 or 6:00 when Riley is waking up she rolls over and begs "Please can you do downstairs and feed him? I will pay you one million dollars." Then she tries to talk about how she just got back to sleep because Riley puked all over himself and needed to change his outfit, blah blah blah. It's pathetic.

See how supportive I am? I rule. Here is the one thing I have learned about giving the wee-child a bottle. While a room temperature bottle might be okay - a cold one causes Riley to lose it. I, of course, learned this the hard way one morning when he was screaming to be fed and I started to panic, so I just gave him a cold bottle right out of the fridge. He took two sips and man was he pissed. He picked up the bottle and threw it at my head.

Kind of hurt too.