Wednesday, May 25, 2011

So close

What up Sydney? Your life is about to get SO MUCH better... If only you could get those fingers and thumb in your mouth to suck on... Soon, baby, soon.



Tuesday, May 17, 2011

Bath time!

Who am I??? See if you can tell the difference... Who is who? Hint... One is Sydney, the other is Casey...


Tuesday, May 10, 2011

Daddy's Bed

When the cat is away, the mice will play.. Looks like Daddy's spot in the bed got jacked.

Saturday, May 7, 2011

Early Pix


Casey kissing baby brother


Hey man, you dropped me!


Da boys

Sunday, May 1, 2011

Spot Starter

In baseball, there is a term for a pitcher who is called upon to sub in for a front line starter. He is referred to as a spot starter. Usually, its a guy just up from the minor leagues, or a relief pitcher from the bullpen. Once in a while, the spot starter will turn in a gem. See Howard Ehmke, 1929 World Series. But usually, it doesnt end well for the pitcher, nor his team.

Virginia has been sick, and so I volunteered to take Sydney's 3AM feeding. I'm feeling pretty confident, having successfully cared for both Sydney and Casey on my own all day. I guess this would be like the spot starter who just had a good showing in the minor leagues..

So, Sydney wakes up crying, so I get him, bring his downstairs. I stumble around in the dark, feel my way to the kitchen. Got some milk from the fridge, and warmed it up. Changed Sydney's diaper. He did make me jump backwards. In the middle of the diaper change, and the exact moment between the old, soiled diaper, and the new diaper, when his bare bottom was being lifted into the air, he blasted a fart. Not a quiet seeper, but rather one of those powerful ones you push out. It being 3AM, and silent in the room, it startled me, and I jumped backwards.


Anyhow, I complete the diaper change, and give him the bottle. He's taking the bottle, but he isn't breathing very well. I tried to burp him a few times, but that wasn't working very well either. In short, he was fussy. After the bottle, I tried to get him to go back asleep. Fast forward to past 4AM, and he was STILL wailing. Nothing I did seemed to help. Finally, the coach came and took me out of the game in favor of another pitcher. Actually, sick and tired Virginia must have been awaken from her Ny-quil induced stupor and came to take over.

I didn't exactly lead my team to a World Series win.. In fact, it was pretty much a total, epic FAIL... Considering there is no one else available, I assume my place on the team is still intact, but my performance didn't inspire much confidence.