Monday, July 27, 2015

Wedding of the Year

"Four girls!" they exclaim; as if I wasn't aware.  And 99% of the time they follow this up with "that means four weddings!!!"  So far no one has calculated in a funeral, but there's still time.  Yes.  Yes, it has dawned on me that there's a good chance each of these girls will be married at some point, and yes I realize the traditional rules say that Gina and I are due to pay host these events.  I'm serious that my hope is they will all meet and fall in love in the same 3 month window and we can talk them into a doing it all in one shot.  Of course that's unlikely.  The other hope is my father-in-law still owns his wedding facility - La Mariposa - and we can convince the girls to hold festivities in Arizona. 

Fortunately, it seems at least one of my expenses has been covered.  I came home the other day to find  out a ceremony was in progress and Rosaline was marrying her long time bff Rafe from down the street (finally!  these kids have been together like 2 1/2 years already; it's about time).  It was a wedding destined to happen so who really cares if it happened 14 years before it's legal in this state.  Mazel Tov you two; my blessings upon you.  Now Rafe cut your hair and get a god damn job.

Something to point out as well: Rosaline and Rafe are the real life Taylor and and Ed from this music video. ... it's eerie because they look so much like then but even eerier that they act so much like them.

Sunday, July 26, 2015

Big Enough to be Big Sisters

The family experience is much like a river flowing; no similar activity is exactly the same because the water drifting by is never the same is at once was.  The big sister job is much different this time around because the ages of the girls are so much different.  The twins were barely two when Rosaline came along.  They wore "big sister" shirts proudly and posed for the cameras with the newborn sis in their laps; but they were still as much babies themselves.  With Lorelei it's vastly different.  The twins are coming up on six and Zozz is nearing four  - they really are big girls and are embodying a much more active role as big sisters.  This morning, while breakfast was being made and coffee still brewing, I changed a diaper and passed the baby off t he Genevieve's open and eager arms.  And there they sat, comfy on the sofa for the next thirty minutes or so.  Any time she cries or coo's, three sets of feet come running to check; to plug a binky in her mouth or report on a spit up that needs cleaning.  So far no one is willing to change the blowout diapers. . .. but there's hope yet.

Saturday, July 25, 2015

Sweet Baby Lorelei

I have a new goal; to blog consistently once more.  Perhaps I'll need to find time in the evening to do so, now that my day light hours are so booked - but I'm on it.  And for good reason.  The Kopp Girls are now a quartet.  On June 19th, only 2 weeks before she was due, our little Lorelei made her appearance.  There's not much to say about her yet - she eats and sleeps and poops. ... and poops - but I'm sure she'll come with plenty of new stories to share with you all as the weeks progress.
I've already noticed the dynamic change of 3 to 4. ... it's like moving from the realm of non-fiction into science fiction.  To put that better, there's the book you read about a real experience and you can compute exactly how everything in the plot came about.  Then there's the book about an interplanetary battle between humanoid rabbits and a subspecies of foot fungus that's gained self awareness.  The words all make sense in your brain but the concept still leaves you going "how could this ever be a real thing?!"  Every time we make a simple journey to the store or someone's house, I feel like I lose track of the headcount because the numbers so high and there are so many moving parts.  It's like counting fish; everyone stop moving and looking so damn much alike. And they do!  They all look exactly the same some times.  And Lorelei, though her hair seems a little darker thus far, is nearly a carbon copy of the rest, right down to her bright blue eyes.  I feel we're not so much procreating as we are simply cloning at this point.

And the questions are a little different when you're dragging around 4.  People used to ask "are you going to try for that boy?"  And they always had this smarmy way of saying it like they weren't serious.  Now people feel like they're egging us on. ... as if we'd already passed some point of sanity so the next stop is Duggar station.  People don't even mention the "boy" card any more, simply when is number five coming?  And there's that little part of you that wonders "why not?"  As the weeks go on I'll be reminded exactly why not. 

Gina sent me an article recently that talked about how hard it is once you've "decided" this is your last baby.  I think many people with one, two or three never officially close that door, it's just kind of how things round out.  But for those that decide, this is the last one, you then start to realize all of these "last firsts" that you'll go through.  Last first smile, last first steps, last first word.  And it really makes you teary to dwell on it.  Of course it'll also be the last first tantrum.  The last first "some how I got shit in my mouth and I'm not even near the baby".  The last first puke on my new suit jacket.  The last first who put my watch in the toilet.  The last first we  haven't slept all night and I have a presentation in zzzzzzzzz.  So yes, it will be emotional, and amongst those emotions will be a little hint of joy and maybe a slightly heavier pour of longing.  We'll see.  And you will too.  Assuming I'm able to keep up  my half of this new bargin.

Here we go!

Friday, June 12, 2015

Once, Twice, Three Times a Bunkmate

We just can't get out of the pull up's at night time with Rozzie.  Accidents during the day are pretty much down to nill, but we can't conquer those long summer evenings yet.  Most of the time she's dry the next day; in fact it's probably twice a week at most that we need to toss the pull up in the morning.  But every now and then. ....

And we know the cause; the kid clearly has a drinking problem.  She's obsessed with drinking the shower water. .. like seriously obsessed.  Our conversations when it's her turn in there are:

Don't drink the water
Soap you bottom
Don't drink the water
Stop drinking the water
Did you drink the water
Wash out your poupou
I said don't drink the water
Wash your face
Wash your face
Stop drinking the freakin' water!

So then we brush teeth and try to use the potty, but all that shower water hasn't quite made it down to the bladder just yet.

When I go to bed around 11, my last job of the night is to take her catatonic body back to the toilet for one more try.  It's good bonding I figure.  She tries to sleep walk off the toilet and I have to wrangler her back to the seat to avoid getting piss all over me and the floor. ... magical really. 

Well last night I went in to take her and she'd already pee'd and it had leaked out of the pull up on to the sheets.  Great.  I take her to the toilet and call Gina in to watch her while I change the sheets out.  Of course she's gone now so there's nothing left, so we put her back to bed.

Well who comes in around 3AM to announce she's wet the bed for a second time in one night?!

And it's not even like "sorry Mama and Daddy, I wet the bed again."  It's more like "Hey, you!  Clean up on aisle four!"

Friday, June 5, 2015

Because this really happened


Well hi there; it's been a while.  You'd think it would be one of the big things going on in our life right now that would bring me out:
Twins just wrapped up TK
Zozzy's gone a full 9 months with out breaking any part of her body
Baby number 4 is due any day now
But no. ... it's a much more crass reason.  My daughter inadvertently drew a penis on a birthday card for our neighbor.  It's the little things really.
Our good friend and neighbor had her 42nd birthday over the weekend and the girls (who adore her) were desperate to make birthday cards in celebration.  Keep in mind my neighbor is also home the past 2 weeks recovering from surgery.  So they get out their pencils and markers and start to work.  Our neighbor is an avid gardener so the girls drew flowers and trees and. ... apparently a shovel for her to garden with.

Naturally I made sure they gave this card to her - no way I was going to pass up this gem.
Happy Birthday, here's a d**k!

Monday, February 2, 2015

Super Bowl

Because it wouldn't be a party if one of my kids didn't shit all over the bathroom of someone else's home.  Rosaline's been doing really great with number two's.  Like so great that we've completely moved out of the potty training phase.  Unfortunately we spent the weekend up at the cabin and one by one the girls came down with a slight case of the diarrhea. ... of course, when has a slight case of diarrhea ever been slight?  Rosaline was the last to get hers, just after we got home and a few hours before we crossed the street to our neighbors to watch the big game.  At the time Gina noted how lucky we were that her bought happened before the party started.  I stared at the words as they hung in the air above us, then I shrugged my shoulders and moved on with life. ... like there was no reason what so ever to be concerned about the uncontrollable bowel of my recently potty trained offspring who has a propensity to dissapear upstairs at strangers houses and test the very finest cleaning solutions the planet has to offer.  Sure enough, two minutes into the third quarter - "Momma?!  Daddy?!  Zozzie has khaka on her legs."  She did.  It was true.  She also had it on the bathroom counter, the lid of the toilet, the outside of the toilet, the tile floor, the tub oh, and every inch of herself.  Touchdown!!!!!!!  I love how a bunch of the commercials yesterday were geared at dads, tugging on their heartstrings about the beauty of fatherhood.   You'll note that not one of them showed a kid covered in fecal matters and their pregnant wife bent over a toilet screaming the words "go get the Clorox wipies - we need reinforcements on this one!"