So it looks like a bomb went off in my living room. The other dudes on the team with midgets have similar stories, the likes of which I just stole that line from. I received an email from one of them that asked what the best prices for a bulldozer would be around this time of year so he could get all of his daughters presents home...(ok, I embellished that report a tiny bit), here's my response:

Maybe it's cruel or unusual to leave my girlfriend to that mess, but here I am at work waiting for a meeting that no one is going to show up to, but I'm in a state of zen like peace.

This morning in bed with everyone (Mya, Fern, & Meg), Mya looks to me and says in sincerity only expressible by a four-year-old in deepest distress, "Tony, what am I gonna do with all that stuff?" It was kind of priceless... Well Meg's got her parents there to help her clean up a crime I consider them full accomplices of, though I'm sure she'll insist they don't (I think I am, at best, an accessories since Meg did all the shopping. "I don't know where my credit card was officer...") I'm playing house hooky... heh!

I may get going since I just found out about the basement sink clog that started 2 days ago. I'm waiting for my brother to get in touch with me, until then I'll hold down the fort, and only leave in an extreme case.

Merry, Happy, Joyful, Jolly Festivus (WIKIPEDIA - Festivus) to all. May your grievances be heard by loving ears, and bounce off of the hardened hearts of the rest-of-us.

--tony

eeeeehhhhhh...

I'm up at 6:44 am, and I've been up since 5.

Fern can be a tiny terrorist sometimes. She got hungry and decided to set off all of her alarms at once and we went from green to yellow alert in the blink of an eye.

Lots of screaming and 3.5 ounces of Target brand formula later and she's back to her usual curious self. Twisting around in my arms to see what I'm looking at while I try to check out some awful thing that I followed from digg to entertain me while my spawn feeds.

"Eeeh... she's a baby, she won't remember this. Hell, she don't even know she's got feet!" Well, that's what I tell my self right before my fatigue settles in and I get into a serious discussion with a 2 month old. "You have to go back to bed! You can't watch this..."

Hmm... the baby's growing. I didn't even realize how much until I looked at my estrip pic of her. She used to look like a bogger compared to how she looks now. She's heavier too. She's seriously half the height and just under half the weight of her 4 year old sister, Mya. I joke with Mya and tell her that I'm half troll (I use my crooked pinky finger as proof), but the way this baby is growing I'm starting to believe me.

There's other things in my life though. I swear. Um, I think. The baby has changed so much about what I can do, that it's almost like she's changed who I am. Though I know that's not true or fair. Hmm, I'm sure this paragraph might be misconstrued as a regret, but it's not... It's really just an observance. I'm still me in here. I just have my priorities arranged differently.

That's one of Meg's biggest gripes too. She hates being stuck in the house. Sometimes she goes out of her way to get outta here and I don't blame her. I love my house too, but if I felt like I could never leave it I think I'd rather burn it down than be in it one more minute, but isn't that what this period is all about? Living in a cocoon like state until the babys big enough...? I hope so. I need to find out. The one thing that I always defer to after banging my head on the wall is "Maybe I'm wrong about this, maybe I need some new insight".

All in all the baby's too young to leave with a stranger. Sometimes I fee like she's too little to leave with anyone. I had my mom babysit a few times. Each time leaving her with the kids for more and more time until things got a little wobbly. My mom's great, and she's no freak. She raised me...ok, I understand that that doesn't really support my argument, so just believe me, kay? The last time I left her with the kids Meg and I went to see Beowulf at the IMAX 3D and then did some skippin' around the town with my friend Jeremy,. When we got back my mom was passed out on the couch (not the air mattress we set up for her) in a (prescribed) drug induced stupor while the baby wailed on the monitor.

In my moms defense, she needs the drugs. She's missing a vertebrae. Some kinda freak accident involving a mentally retarded character with the PC label of "consumer", her spine, and a clock radio. Every time I hear the story it sounds more and more like something Rob Zombie would have directed. Anyway, I guess she needs help sleeping. I wish I'd of put 2 and 2 together before that night, but everyone is fine and we had a good time.

As the baby struggles to sit up on her own, and with news like "..your baby held her own bottle for like 20 seonds... it was cute, sorry I just had to call you..." the shell on this cocoon is getting more and more brittle.

I don't know I have friends that have kids and understanding friends that don't but I want more of a life for my self... I think, maybe. I don't know.

I'm doing a band with Nick Vega from work. We have a show January 4th at Neitchez, and the set list looks kinda tight. Mostly covers some orginals too though. I haven't been on stage in and age, but after a couple of practices we'll see if it's worth coming out to see this old goat do some tricks for the fair going proletariat again.

Till then...this is muja signing off from inside the cocoon.