I got your pictures right here!

OK, Here's the most recent pregnant pic. Sorry Carla doesn't have a head in it but it's a good belly profile, right?

Pics from Boo at the Zoo. We heard a lot of "Oh, look at the little cheerleader" and "Who are you, Brady Quinn?" Walker doesn't know who Brady Quinn is yet, so he was getting kind of mad. He was Derek Anderson, and don't you forget it.

Quite possibly my favorite picture of Ellie to date:
Remember how a while ago I said Ellie likes to try to get stuck in everything?
Well, here's some more:

Wonder where she gets it . . .

Yep, that's little Carla, getting stuck in stuff. They really are a lot alike. They even both go to bed at the same time.

The other day I got home from work with a really bad headache. When I finally made it to the dinner table, Walker asked me: "Daddy, which head hurts, your hair or your forehead?"
Also, I never thought I'd hear myself say this at dinner: "Ellie, stop putting bread between your toes. That's bad manners." That little girl will be wearing socks to dinner from now on.

By the 4s . . .
OK, you can vote again but, this time no fighting. Which is my crowning achievement?
I've eaten 4 pounds of grapes in a weekend.
One time I had steak for 4 meals in a row.
I've eaten 14 apples in the last 4 days.

I think I killed a doctor

I packed 4 apples in my lunch today and if just one apple will keep him away, 4 probably wastes him. 2 apples down, 2 to go, and I'll probably eat 2 more at home tonight because the kids like to sneak them and take a few bites and put them back so I finish them off. I usually cut off the slobbery brown part first (yes, I did say usually . . . not always).

Well, Walker's going to be pretty upset that the Indians aren't going to the World "Serious". It was fun watching the playoffs with him. He loved it when I would say Disuke Matsuzaka and I loved to hear him try to say it back. He got the "Dice-K" part right, but then it kind of sounded like he was saying marsupial. I'll have to start getting him back into football now. When we were at Boo at the Zoo on Saturday and he was dressed as a Cleveland Brown he said, "Daddy, I thought Charlie Frye was a good thrower but he doesn't play for us anymore so now I like Derek Anderson." I told him not to get too used to that name either, though I'm sure he'll remember it forever.

Last night, shortly after Ellie went to bed, she started crying. She hasn't cried much since we moved her into her toddler bed so I went up to check on her . . .
Daddy: What's wrong, El?
Ellie (still very upset): Mommy wiped the purple off.
Daddy: Mommy wiped the purple off? That's preposterous.
Ellie: Yeah, take it out.
Daddy: Take it out of what?
Ellie: Her mouth.
Carla swears she did not wipe anything purple off of Ellie then eat it but I don't know; Ellie had no reason to lie.

Yes, I saw the comments about posting a picture. Yes, I'll try to do it soon. Hopefully before the new baby comes.

Mainly Stuff the Wife Says

Or used to say, more like. Thinking back on the 11 years that we've spent together brings to mind . . .
"I'm a tricker": You just fell for my joke, you schmuck.
"Really Super": Something can be really great or even super great, but if it's "really super" great, well, it doesn't get much better than that.
"What do you think about that?": This one basically means I'm better than you. "Oh, you're tired from football? Well, I just lifted than ran three miles so what do you think about that?"
"Seichen Sie Seuch" (for those of you who took Spanish in high school, it's pronounced Zyken zee zoik): This one's my favorite. It's Carla's own made up German word and it means whatever she wants it to mean at any given time, though it's usually an insult or a demand for quiet. If she's really mad, it's just "Seichen Sie!" but if she's really super mad, it's "SEICH!".

Also, in kid news:
Yesterday Walker was playing football with Gma K. and he said before they play he has to "break the picture". Mom finally figured out he meant he has to run through the hoop like the leopards do when they come out of the locker room so she held up a blanket for him to "break".

When Carla left for work this morning, she said, "Bye, little peanuts. I love you." Walker laughed at her and said "Bye, big peanut".

When I left for work this morning, I tried to kiss Ellie goodbye but she cried and yelled at me. I grabbed her hand and kissed it and she got mad and wiped it off. She'll love me again when she's 20, right?

Our little helpers

Walker and Ellie have both been great helpers lately. On my off-Fridays or on Saturdays when Carla's at school, I can give them jobs and they actually do them. Not only that, they get really excited when I say "It's time for Jobs!" Like if I would have said "It's time for Ice cream" or something. They get really competitive, too. They race around the house putting shoes or pillows or silly six pins away and they race back to me for their next job. It gets pretty rough sometimes but I figure, what's the big deal about a little blood on the carpet if the rest of the house is presentable? It's also fun to stand in the kitchen yelling at them like a drill sergeant. They think it's funny and I think I don't care if I sound like an idiot as long as they're cleaning.

But then . . . Ellie mopped. No big deal, right? She's seen Mommy do it like a dozen times and Daddy do it like a thousand. Except that instead of a mop she used a broom. And instead of a mop bucket she used a toilet. She and the floor were both totally soaked but she was proud of herself for "helping" so we couldn't come down on her too hard.

Walker also helped me fix the lawn mower over the weekend. On Saturday, I had him gather up some fisher price tools and come out and hammer the wheels while I cleaned the carburetor. Then yesterday, I was working on it again and he came outside with the exact same tools again and proceeded to hammer on all the wheels. Once we got it fixed, I let him drive it around a little (while I held him, of course). He's really good at it, actually, but he tries to talk to me while he's driving and I can never hear him. I was having him park us in the shed and he was saying something I couldn't make out. Then he started looking really worried and saying "Please. Please!" It turned out he was asking me to slow down and the poor little guy must have thought I wouldn't do it unless he asked nicely. Oh well, no wrecks and he parked us just fine after I eased off the throttle a little.

Time now for 'The Guy who Would Rather Watch Star Wars . . .'

I like Star Wars as much as the next nerdy engineer but I wouldn't consider myself an over-the-top fan (I am an "Over the Top" fan, though. Come on, Sly Stallone arm wrestling for the custody of his only child? Who wouldn't love that?). Anyway, back to Star Wars. I've seen all of them, even a couple in the theater, but I'm not the kind of guy who goes to the openings at midnight dressed like Boba Fett. But, for whatever reason, I had a dream last night that I was in a light-saber battle with my dad in my living room. I won. I cut both of his hands off and didn't even feel bad. The problem is, as dreams tend to go sometimes, shortly after the epic duel, I found out that it was actually Walker with his hands cut off. He didn't seem to mind too much but I was freaking out. I wrapped his little arms up in some gauze and I think I put his hands in the refrigerator so we could take him to the doctor to get them reattached - the next morning. Yeah, I was going to wait a whole day to do it. Maybe I was just too tired from the fight to take him in or maybe I was scared I'd go to jail for cutting off my son's hands. Either way, father of the year. Well, fortunately, the next morning his hands had been miraculously reattached and he had forgotten about the whole ordeal. I was really glad because I wouldn't have to tie his shoes for him for the rest of his life.

My question to you is, should I seek counseling now or is there a medication I should try first?

Walker has a girlfriend

Finally! Well, better late than never, I guess. He likes a girl in his class named Kendall because she's nice. She might be the one he plays computer with, I'm not sure. Anyway, Grandma Kandel got him started on the name thing and when I got home yesterday he said: "Dad, I like Kendall because she's nice. If I marry her, her name will be Kendall Kandel." Then he laughed ridiculously.

Also, Ellie thinks the world of herself but it's probably my fault . . .
Kurt: Ellie, are you a pretty girl?
Ellie: No Pretty girl. I'm a big girl.
Kurt: Well, are you prettier than Heidi Klum?
Ellie: No Heidi Klum! I'm a big girl. I'm pretty.

Ellie took a fall off her trike the other day and scraped up her face pretty bad.
Kurt: Oh, Ellie, you got a boo boo on your face.
Ellie: I'm still pretty.

Potty training trouble

We've been putting Ellie on the potty before her baths lately. Not really potty training, yet - just sort of pre-potty training. Usually, as soon as we sit her down, she looks up and says, "It's all gone". We used to pick her back up after she said that but quickly realized that it was, in fact, very much not all gone. Thank God for Woolite.

And a classic Walker potty training story:
It was Independence Day of 2006 and Walker had just started potty training. We were at a fire at Mom and Dad's so we were really far away from the house. I took Walker over to a tree a couple times to mark some territory, 'cause that's what you do when you're at a campfire. Well, it might not be what you do but it's what one does with a 2 year old who can't make it 100 yards to the nearest potty. Well, we finally went inside to get changed for bed and Walker had to go again (2 year old bladders are quite small). I told him to go into grandma and grandpa's bathroom and use the potty.
Walker: I want to go pee-pee on the tree, Daddy.
Daddy: No, Walker, we're inside now. Use the potty.
Walker goes to the bathroom and returns momentarily.
Walker: Daddy, I went pee-pee on everything.
He was right.

Notes and Quotes 3

Kurt: Ellie, you're a pipsqueak.
Ellie: No, Daddy. No pisqueak. (That's right, "pisqueak" - no 2nd p)
Kurt: Well, what are you then?
Ellie: I'm a blue one pisqueak.

Walker: Bye, Daddy. Have a good day and be careful.
Kurt: You too, buddy. Be good and no tackling Ellie today.
Walker - trying to get by on a technicality: Well, if we're dancing to Yankee Doodle and I bump her and she falls down, then . . . that's not really a tackle.

Ellie - in the car on the way home the other night: It's black in here, Daddy. Turn the light on for me.
Kurt: No, El, Daddy likes it dark in the car at nighttime.
Ellie: Turn the light on for me, siwwy.
Kurt: Just look out the window. Do you see the moon? (The sky was blanketed in clouds)
Ellie: I see it!
Kurt: Oh, really? What does it look like?
Ellie: Umm . . . a chip.
Kurt: Uh, you mean a potato chip?
Ellie: Yeah, a wewwo chip.

That's it! No more voting.

Oh man, we're tearing the family apart. Here's a recap of the voting:

Steph granted Grandma W her 19th amendment rights while Carla and I were still debating the issue
Stacey and Andy want to teach our children to spit at each other
We're stealing Tim and Jen's next son's name
Bryan and Robin are questioning our originality
Mom and Dad are totally jumping down Bryan and Robin's throats
I realized that Gma W named all her kids with 4 letters or less just to fit on a stocking and she manipulated at least 2 of their marriages for the same purpose (did Aunt Susie ever get a stocking? Did you just write "Sue" or was the "i" skinny enough that it didn't count?)

Grandma: You may vote. And if grandma votes count as double then Great grandma votes count as 5. I'm sure Anderson won't mind if he has to have Christmas long underwear.
Steph: Caroline is not only off the table but she's also under it - and dreaming.
Tim and Jen: I hope our next sons have the same name. They can go into the window business together.
Stacey and Andy: Keep your scary, sweaty, spitting kids away from mine.
Bryan and Robin: Start having kids soon while there's still some names left.
Mom and Dad: Call Michael Kandel