My Baby Could Beat Up Your Honor Student

It's been two weeks since I gave Rosaline a bottle before bedtime.  Usually it's a Wednesday night ritual as Gina teaches back to back classes on Wednesdays and can't nurse Rosaline before she goes down for the night.  But last week was Thanksgiving eve so her early class was cancelled.  For some reason, though, last night felt like it had been an eternity since I cuddled her on my lap as she sucked down her bottle while nodding off in my arms.  But at 11 months two weeks is a huge difference.  This kid got giant in two weeks.  She's spilling over my arm and my legs started to go to sleep before she did.  I swear, at one point I thought maybe I should be sitting in her lap and she be putting me to bed.  Twenty four pounds.  That's how much she weighs.  Granted, it's no forty six that the Genebeast.  ... I mean Genevieve weighs, but come on!  And our kids aren't pudgcicles either.  Genevieve is stretching the length limits on size 5, and she just turned 3.  Arianna is not far behind, but Rosaline. ... she's outpacing Genevieve at this rate.  So clearly my 5'9" wife is doomed to be the short one in our house hold.  That being said, if anyone could have Misty May-Treanor get me a quote on private volleyball lessons I'd really appreciate it.  I know she's in my neck of the woods cause she went to college down the street from me and I used to go watch her play when I was a high school middle blocker.  Cause let's face it folks: if these girls can't get volleyball scholarships for college then the only alternative is going to be a life in the world of professional wrestling.  That or modeling size 13 high heels in some big and tall type clothing catalogue for women.  Or men for that matter.  We don't judge.

Blame it on the Cat

Dog is man's best friend, there's no arguing this.  But cat seems to be making a move on the spot.  Last night the girls went down and a rejuvenated Gina went out to grab some ice cream.  This worked out well because I still had a good hours worth of work to catch up on from the day so I cracked open the laptop and got started.  I was a good 15 minutes in when I heard Simba (the lone male, along with myself, that resided here) purring and meowing up a storm behind me.  I spin around to tell him to quiet down when I see Arianna, frozen in pose with mouth agape and eyes wide looking like a burglar who has just had the lights brought up on her.  Her eyes are the only thing moving as they dart around the room wondering if I've noticed her. The whole time the cat is feverishly rubbing himself along her legs and feet (self petting) and meowing as if in heaven.  I never heard her get up.  Never heard her door open.  Never heard her creep across the floor.  Thank god I have cat to set off the alarm and make sure escapees are caught before they get beyond the perimeter.  Dog is still man's best friend, but cat may be toddlers worst enemy for now.

Clean Up on Aisle 4! We've Got a Dad In Charge Here People.

Gina's got some kind of nasty bug suddenly.  Spent a good portion of Sunday night praying to the porcelain god and was just plain wiped all day Monday (actually cancelled her yoga classes for once. ... I recall a time she tried to reschedule a c-section so she could still teach an afternoon class; so that's saying something).  Fortunately my mother-in-law was home to help out with the girls all day and Gina just spent the 24 hours in bed or on the bathroom floor.  I felt it important to leave early (formerly known as "on time") from work to make sure I was there to handle dinner, baths and bed time; and we made it through most of the evening in one piece.  And why wouldn't we?  We do this all the time when Gina's teaching, anyway.  But then Rosaline called a last minute audible and pooped in her high chair at the end of the meal.  This creates a paradox, we'll call it the Daddy Paradox.  Do I change her into a new diaper only to take it off at bath time in, literally, 1.37 minutes?  Or. ... do I try and time it right that I can run up the stairs and get the naked as the day she was born 1 year old in the filling tub before she feels free enough in her nudity to release what ever else she's got in the tank.  Naturally I'm a man, so I'm stupid.  I've also procreated which makes me a father and, by default, has granted me a false sense of confidence in my abilities to parent.  I opted for the more interesting of the choices (and cheaper - men also become cheap when the become fathers).  As I'm bounding up the stairs, giggling streaker safely tucked in my arms like the Heisman Trophy football I hear Gina call after me (in her best "I've been throwing up all day" voice) "You're pretty brave there Daddy!"  Brave.  Ha!  That has nothing to do with it.  I've done a  million baths and know exactly what I'm doing.  Set baby down.  Plug tub up. Turn on water.  Grab baby. ... grab baby. ... baby?  Turns out Genevieve sprinted past us to the toilet in the same bathroom to go pee.  For some reason Rosaline likes to keep her company when she does this. ... it's a regular thing.  So she followed Genevieve to the toilet.  "Come here, baby" I call to her.  She smiles.  Takes one step.  Pee's like a racehorse prior to the Derby and then takes here delayed second step right into the puddle, slipping in her own urine.  Fortunately she didn't get hurt and I got her in to the tub with out so much as a sniffle.  Genevieve, meanwhile, is pee locked on the toilet as she can't get down from her perch until I clean it up.  Arianna is now in the tub, water is filled and turned off and pee has been cleaned up.  Now to wipe Genevieve.  Where'd all the toilet paper go?!!!

How Smart Thou Art

Well hi there, long time no see.  It's become apparent this past holiday weekend that I'm not allowed to stop blogging.  I've been told this at point blank by several outlets.  So, somehow it seems I will need to find a way to eek in a little blogging to keeping the angry mobs at bay.  I was even told by one person that they need my blog to remind themselves they're existence is normal.  I think that's a compliment though it may, in fact, not be.  So here we go, once more into the fray:

A lot of parents, and I believe especially fathers, fear that day when their child exceeds them.  They've grown taller, stronger, faster, more successful - whatever your vice.  For me it's "smarter".  I pride myself on being somewhat intelligent and, though I pray for it every day, I'm worried for that moment they outsmart me.  And here's the scariest part. ... we're not that far from it.  Last night I was herding the girls upstairs for bath and negotiating the terms of tonight's endeavor..  I started at 1 Disney Princess doll per girl in the bath.  They countered at 4, I offered 2.  They re-countered at 3 and I held my ground at 2 to which they claimed Rosaline counted as a body and the total should still be 6.  I nixed the Rosaline argument as you must be able to say the word "Princess" before you can claim rights to representation. They conceded and went to choose their dolls.  I followed behind and started growing suspicious when Arianna told me I couldn't come in her room while she chose her dolls. ... something was going on.  I started to climb the stairs and stopped on the landing to make sure they were following.  Genevieve ran by and bounded up the stairs.  Arianna followed with a sideways gate, hand behind her and front facing me the whole time. ... eyes locked dead on me like a thief on the security camera.  "What's behind your back?" I asked.  "Two baby dolls" she said earnestly.  The specifics gave her away - she'll learn that soon enough.  "Let me see." I requested.  "No." she firmly replied.  "Why" I asked her, waiting for her to give up.  "Because there are only two."  A stair down ensued briefly to which I told her then she could only have one baby.  She agreed on two and returned the stow away.  As she ran back to her room to drop of the extra I couldn't help but laugh.  Laugh, and wipe away the sweat on brow.  I won this round. ... I'm not sure how many victories of wit I have left here.

Pic of the Week

"3 going on 13"

Since I don't have time to be funny and original, I'll at least share with you other people that are.  Here's the Parent Rap from Bluefish TV.

Miss(ed) Manners

We pride ourself on our manners in the Kopp household.  Our P's and Q's are of utmost concern. But, as with all things child related, things sometime backfire on you.  Last night, Arianna was chocking down the last few bites of her beans.  "One more bite and you can be all done," I told her.  She grimmaced as she shoveled the last spoonful in reluctantly.  "Ok," I said.  "Now where does your plate go?"  I was expecting her to get up and put it in the sink to be washed.  Instead, she looked at me confused for a moment, then spit out the entire mouth full of half chewed beans.  "What are you doing?" I demanded.  "I can't talk with my mouth full, Daddy." She said with authority.  She had a point.  How was she supposed to respond to my question (polite) with a mouth full of food (impolite).  I had nothing in response.  Just a fit full of internal laughter.

Color Me Happy

By now you fully aware of my passion for road races; 5k's, 10k's, halves, fulls, tris, mud runs. ... you name it and I've run it.  Well, except for the zombie run, that was over the girls birthday party. ... but next year.  So when one of my sister-in-laws came to me with pictures from this phenomenon called the Color Run, you bet I was ready to sign up.  As our race day grew nearer it became clear that we hadn't fully thought out what to do with  the girls.  My mom was overseeing an office move, Gina's mom was at a show in Phoenix, my sister was running with us as were all the sister-in-laws.  The run was in San Diego, a good hour and a half south, so any babysitting plan would be an all day event.  Then, a few days before, some of our other friends running mentioned they were taking their two year along in a stroller.  I'd never thought of that.  Sure enough, it said right on  the FAQ's that kids under five were free and only the most awesome of parents would bring their children along.  Well. ... I think we're pretty awesome.  So here it is.  Our color run adventure and the girls first 5k.  Gonna be hard to top this in their future running careers.

Pic of the Week

"Trick or Treat!!!!!"