On The Local News Front

Ahhh, summer in the valley. Last night when my wife got home at 11:00 pm it was 90 degrees outside. This morning when I arose at 5:30 am it was 80. It's just friggin hot. And it's supposed to be hotter today; worse still tomorrow. I can deal with heat, but a week hovering around 110 in the afternoon is just not something I will ever get used to.

The Girl's outta our bed. The youngest member of our clan finally got sleep nazied last week. Knowing her temperment we fully expected a month of earshattering wailing. We were wrong. She cried the first night for about half an hour and then called it a night. She hasn't complained since. She gets the saddest look in the world when placed in her crib and sometimes just trembles, but she's slumbering in less than ten minutes. Although there have been one or two middle of the night explosions ("where the hell am I!?), she has surprised us with her ability to adapt. I'm kind of proud of her, and my bruised kidneys are ever so grateful.

We have an appointment for a meet and greet with a certified midwife today. The first two spawn were delivered by an OB that we both really like, but her likablity has been her downfall as she has become immensely popular. It seems that the baby appointments too often don't involve her but rather a nurse practitioner or a fellow OB from her practice. That isn't what we want, so we're going to chat with somebody else about overseeing the whole operation. It would have the added bonus of letting me work the term "midwifery" into my conversations more frequently. Sweet.

The impending addition is creating the (by now) classic marital conflict regarding its ultimate moniker. We have only just begun our dueling, each of us tossing out potential names that are in turn squashed by the other. My beloved is, at least for now, holding a firmer line than she did previously and seems less likely to cave or compromise. This promises to be a battle for the ages.

And lastly... the Boy just approached his mother with a smear of his morning yogurt clinging to his thumb. He thrust that yogurted thumb at her face and asked her, "Want to smell this?" Uh, no... thank you.