Blah Blah Blah
2007-02-09, 16:17

One of my favourite things in life has to be waking up in the middle of the night to do daddy work.

There I was, peacefully sleeping, when I hear from the baby monitor, "daddy... then a pause, followed by, "daddy... diaper. fell. off!" Oh boy. I quickly wrench the CPAP off my face (see: larval stage from Alien), throw on my jammie pants and a shirt and rush (or at least went as quickly as my 3:45 am body would allow) upstairs with visions of screaming child and changing sheets in the near dark. Luckily it wasn't so bad; her diaper had just unhinged on one side and didn't leak onto the bed, so it just involved a change. Even more luckily she didn't freak, so she was back in bed immediately. Not so immediate was sleeping. I ended up being in her room for over a half hour while she caught me trying to sneak out quietly, saying, "Daddy. Stay," in her ultra cute tired voice, to which no self-respecting parent say No. I was back in bed by 4:30 am, and managed to get back to sleep by 5 am, only to have my alarm go off at the usual 6 am. I had debated just staying up after getting Laurana back to sleep, and it turns out my instinct would have been correct, because boy did I feel like crap this morning. Yay crap! Oh, the things I'll hold over her head when she's older. "Borrow the car?!? Isn't it enough that I was up at 4 am that one time to change your diaper? Sheesh!"

Tomorrow is the annual Cub Scout Pinewood Derby, or, as I know it better, the Paternal Day of Shame. I'd been dreading this day for weeks, getting knots in my stomach just thinking about it. The last couple of years have been dismal failures competition wise, and all fault is placed at my feet. I'd say that I'm bound and determined to help The Boy get his car in racing shape this year, but I've chosen no to have any expectations. Luckily, The Boy seems to have chosen the same route, at least outwardly. I can't help but think that the low expectations are of me and not the car, however. But I also think that I've unintentionally helped him along his somewhat Buddhist path with lessons on non-attachment.

Nonetheless, he's chosen the comic and stylish route this year, because, after a conversation with him about this year's design, we're going with a tissue box. Yes, a Kleenex box. We hollowed out the center of the car to make room for tissues, cannibalized an actual Kleenex box for the plastic opening that we cut down to fit the top of the car, and tonight are going to cover it in hideous contact paper that's somewhat tissue box-like. Pull some tissue up through the plastic opening, and voila! A Kleenex box car. It may not win a lot of (or any) races, but it'll certainly be unique. And the best part is that it will actually dispense Kleenex. He plans on pulling one out and using it during his acceptance if he wins any awards. Shaping up to be a comic genius, this one. And what are we going to name the car? Why, Gazundheit (sp), of course!

I'm well into Lila this time, and I'm wondering why I had such a hard time with it the first time through. Maybe I wasn't fresh off of Zen enough to be able to keep it all in my head. Or maybe it was Pirsig's god-awful writing style. Okay, maybe that's a little harsh, but it's a far cry from is first book. Granted, I'm not even a quarter of the way through, so I really should reserve judgment. But the writing seems so... self-serving, at least compared with Zen. A good chunk of it so far has been mainly just wordy, lurching advertisement for a) his organizational skillz, b) the MoQ and how much better it is than everything else, and c) his way with the ladies. Really, he's starting to sound like all the philosophers he professes to dislike, in his 'MoQ is the only thing that makes sense' diatribes. Don't get me wrong, there's still a lot to glean out of the work, and I'm determined to finish it (if only at least to start hitting the website with foreknowledge) but it's grating at times to get through it.

A few weeks ago we tried out a new game that some very smart and dashing and thoughtful guy got the family for Xmas. It's called 'Dread Pirate' (Roberts - it automatically got the addition to the title at first sight on the shelf), a game in which you sail your little ship game piece across the vast game board map, delivering goods, completing quests and attacking each other for the title of Dread Pirate (Roberts). Whoever gets a certain amount off gold or gems first is the winner. It was a lot of fun and was easy enough to learn, and fair enough that every one of the three of us (The Boy, H and myself) came close to winning at some point, although naturally I took the title as mine in the end. Personally I think whoever wins gets to be called the Dread Pirate Roberts around the house until someone else wins. "Pass me the salt, matey, or suffer the wrath of the Dread Pirate Roberts! Arrrrg!" All will cower before me. Oh wait, they do that anyway.

-- End Transmission --