[twrayinma]

but as a childless person, i'm finding this almost uncontrollably funny:

http://www.ironycentral.com/babymain.html

[oreo_n2]

What Baby Learned This Week

1. She learned that she can derive happiness by sucking her hand. She seems to try to maneuver her hand to her mouth. This invariably results in her either bopping herself in the chin or poking herself in the eye. Every once in a while, she managed to get one or two finger in her mouth, and she gets a few seconds' satisfaction before she moves her hand away again. Sometimes, she accidentally flips daddy off. I watch this process until I start to hyperventilate from laughing so much.









ROFLMFAO!!!!


Want to feel like a heartless jerk who would sell out your kid for an hour's free time and a handful of Skittles? Then crack a few parenting books and read what they have to say in their sections on formula. You'd think I was feeding my kid room temperature Mountain Dew with a pig urine chaser.

i have to close the window, the guys in cube next to me are wondering what the fuck i am laughing at my computer for.


i need to go home and get a change of clothes from pissing myself reading this...

Baby's First Vocalization

Baby said her first recognizable, non-crylike sound the other day. It was "Goo."

That's right. She said quote-Goo-endquote. It's perfect. It's like if a dog said "Bark."

My wife was nearby to hear it, but she wasn't close enough to pick Cordelia up and positively reinforce this behavior. So, if my daughter can't talk until she's five, it's my wife's fucking fault.

[oreo_n2]

One of the fascinating things about new parenthood is the way I had in my mind certain basic assumptions about how the process would work, which were, in fact, to any actual parent, so totally and obviously wrong that there was no perceived need to point out that they are wrong. The things you don't know are so obvious that nobody bothers to tell you otherwise.

For example, I recently found out that I had one such assumption: that a diaper is capable of containing all the waste produced in any one "incident."

The other night, however, I experienced an incident I have christened The Poo Bomb.

I watched TV, peacefully, with Cordelia lying on the couch next to me. She made some mildly fussy noises, so I picked her up, took her into the nursery, and checked her diaper. I then found that she had shat out, conservatively, 70% of her body weight. The waste product flowed around the diaper like the wind passes by a stick. I had to cross myself. It was majestic.

It was like, well, imagine an anaconda swallowing a warthog. But in reverse. And the warthog is made of poo.

I am almost positive that she can unhinge her hip bones.

I am starting to develop calm, firm parenting instincts. So it was obvious what I had to do next. I got the camera and took some pictures. Someday, Cordelia will bring home a boyfriend I don't like.

Then I cleaned up everything. And I mean everything.

And the next morning, in direct violation of the Laws of Physics, she detonated another Poo Bomb. I swear to god she feels lighter.

[twrayinma]

katie's responses:

do you ever think that perhaps our computer-engineer-gaming-electronic-weird-ass-sense-of-humor generation shouldn't maybe be having kids?
i can just see our entire generation looking down at a crib and saying "what the fuck?"

[coyote]

AAAAHAHAHAHHAHAHH EHEHEHHEHEHEHHEHEHE you are killing me !!! my side hurt

[beet]

beetlish again