Melllllting

I've returned from my cross-country work roadshow directly onto the surface of the sun - where it is still mid-80's inside my house at 10 PM. I don't know which I prefer more, a week spent in hotel rooms, discussing CRM theory with sales managers, or 90+ degree days in an un-air conditioned house.

Actually, that's misleading. I love discussing CRM theory. I'd prefer it over a typical 72 degree day in an un-air conditioned house.

I think there's something wrong with me.

So while I sit here waiting for the temp to go down so I can type something intelligent, here's a pic of Finn pointing out a much more comfortable locale.

Turns out that loudly telling your son to go back and point at the Daddy sodas at the grocery store while angling for a better camera phone shot earns you some interesting looks.

Potty Time

Fun fact: I am often confused with Angelina Jolie. It used to be because of my humanitarian efforts (Feed the Yankees!), my luscious lips and my make-out sessions with my brother, but lately it's because of the fact that I let my son dress himself.

At least, that's the way it stands around here when I let Finny wear his Twenty Trucks shirt - a questionable fashion accessory, to be sure, but his absolute favorite shirt. And since Kitty was at yoga this morning (I'm a coward) and since I'll be out of town for business all week next week, the Twenty Trucks shirt made it out of the drawer today.

To celebrate, we also ate chocolate chip cookies for breakfast.

Like I said, Kitty wasn't around.

Turns out this may have been another questionable decision. Finn's digestion has been a little off of late. In fact, Mema - who was visiting earlier this week - greeted me at the door on Tuesday with, "So, Finny was pooping all over the place today."

I chuckled, until I noticed the damp spot on the carpet and realized that she meant that literally.

The poor little guy has had a persistent rash and bathroom issues for the past week, which on the bright side has actually helped the potty training since we can just sit him on the potty for roughly 12 hours of the day.

The odd thing is that he absolutely loves that. He would sit on the potty all day if we let him. Kitty was reading the Potty Training for Dummies book and it contains all sorts of tricks for getting your kid onto the toilet, but none for getting him off of it.

I guess it's better that way, right? I mean, what's the worst thing that could happen?

Time for Change

It must be nice being two years old (aside from the crapping in one's pants, though we're working on that). On top of the fact that your Dad will do absolutely anything for you if you whine long enough, it takes very little to make your day.

As an adult, when was the last time you were excited about a letter? Finn gets pumped every time he sees the letter "F".

"F is for Finn!" he'll exclaim from his potty-throne. He will then go on to inform me that "W" is for Woody and "R" is for Dump Truck. I don't correct him. I'm pretty sure there's an "R" in there somewhere and he's so happy to have found it.

He will then command that I sing him the concrete mixer song for the eleventy-millionth time that afternoon and then clap and laugh when I get to the chorus like it's the first time in history anyone has ever thrown in a "bom bom bom" transition during the concrete mixer song.

Which is probably true, given that I made up the concrete mixer song, but still. I don't remember the last time I got excited about the letter "B" and/or a song involving concrete mixers, but I'm sure I'm just overly jaded. Growing up in the big city of Millbrook, NY will do that to you.

No, when I want excitement I need to do something EXTREME. Something nuts. Something dangerous. Something like SHAVING!

This was the first time I had shaved my beard in roughly 10 years - which only sounds long until you consider that it took me roughly 9 years to grow it. Given that Finn had obviously never seen me without a beard and knowing how excited he gets over the most mundane stuff, I was excited to show him. I shaved it off during his nap and went up to wake him up expecting him to totally freak out.

"Hi Daddy," was his only response.

Disappointed, I made him rub my face and repeatedly tried to get him to tell me what was different. He just looked at me like I was crazy until I finally asked him where my beard went.

"It's right here," he casually informed me. Then he reached down and grabbed a handful of my chest hair.

Apparently, my sparsely populated facial hair migrating down to my chicken chest - while still totally freaking me out every time I walk past a mirror - isn't as exciting as the letter "F" to the Ninja.

Next time I'll have to throw in a "bom bom bom" for good measure.

Regression

In the world of software development, before releasing a new feature / website / porn collection, it's important to run some regression tests to make sure that your new stuff doesn't break any of your old stuff. If we had a reliable QA office here at fussyninja.blogspot.com, we'd have regression bugs all over the place as every new day seems to break our previously pleasant Finnware a little more as we get deeper and deeper into the 2.0's.

But Finn's not the only one regressing. Mommy&Daddy.com also appears to be hampered by the reappearance of some previously resolved hardware - specifically, baby monitors. We retired our monitor back in the spring, not because Finn had outgrown it, but because the recharger stopped working and we're too cheap to buy a new one.

I was fine with it. Our lives had 75% less ocean sounds, which meant I was no longer falling asleep the minute the monitor was turned on. However, it turns out that Kitty wasn't quite ready to let it go. Apparently, checking Finn's breathing manually every 15 minutes was taking its toll on her. At least we were able to get a free replacement, even if it wasn't the video monitor that would allow us to count his eyelashes while he slept.

I'm still getting used to having the ocean back, but all I can say is: this better not happen with potty training. Once we've got that kid reliably on the potty, the next person to be in diapers will be me.

I can't wait.

Whineoceros

Unfortunately, Baby Center doesn't offer any answers. Just rhetorical questions.

Of course two is not all bad, as today Finn emphatically informed me that he LOVES when I sing the A-B-C song. Plus he claps when I sing him the bulldozer song while he sits on the potty. That's good for my ego. Even though you can't really get a more captive audience than a two-year-old on the toilet, I'll take it.

The downside is the persistent whining. We stopped using the stroller a couple of months ago and now neighborhood walks alternate between hysterical running giggles and dramatic pleas to ride on my shoulders. We're trying not to respond to the whining - as "they" have instructed - and we're asking him to ask politely, which translates into, "Shoulders pleeeeeeeeeeeeeease."

Word on the street is that it was Einstein who defined insanity as doing the same thing over and over again but expecting different results. If that's true, then I am certainly insane as I love to pick him up and put him on my shoulders, but I'm still surprised when he whines for it on the next walk.

Perhaps I need to take a hint from snails and up my meth dosage.

Catching Up

Turns out that summer is a difficult time to blog. This is due, in part, to the fact that by Seattle law every resident is forced to drink a six-pack of beer each night of the summer to please the sun gods who only bless our fair city for three months of the year. And I, for one, obey the law.

It's also due to the fact that the extended summer nights mean Finn's bedtime is pushed waaaaay beyond the typical 7:30 pm cut-off that we enforce during the winter and often falls after 9 pm. That doesn't leave much time for me to type on and on about what a wonderful kid he is, since I'm so busy enjoying him being a wonderful kid.

But that leaves you, fair readers, out in the cold - which isn't fair. So here's a quick update:

Finn still likes:

• Layla
• Diggers
• DVD's about diggers
• Pictures of himself
• Being tickled
• Telling me not to tickle him (tease)

Finn still dislikes:

• Brushing his teeth
• Leaving Layla
• Not watching diggers
• The Red Sox (I'm projecting)

So now that we're all caught up, I'll try to be better about keeping everyone in the loop going forward. In the meantime, please enjoy this picture of Finn on a digger. Unfortunately, I don't have a picture of him crying after he fell off this digger and hit his head on the other digger since I was too busy taking this picture.

Finn also dislikes his neglectful dad. But not as much as the Red Sox.

Summer Break

It's finally summer in Seattle, so apologies for the lack of content.

Fussy Ninja will return soon. In the meantime, please enjoy this pic of Friend of the Ninja Kevin Cobb, taken 5 minutes ago.




Ah, summer.

-- Post From My iPhone in beautiful Mt Vernon, WA