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Before I had kids, I truly believed that there was no way I could be out-smarted by a three year old.

Now, on pretty much a daily basis, I am out-smarted, out-manouvered, out-manipulated and out-witted by one.

Her powers for persuasive argument are such that she will either become the world’s greatest lawyer or some sort of evil power-hungry magnate whose plans for world domination can only be stopped by James Bond.

(I’m still wrestling with which I’d prefer.)

For now though?  She just gets lots and lots of cookies because her rationalizations are JUST THAT GOOD.

I’m POWERLESS against them.

I still win at soccer every time, though.

Pffft, she kicks like a three year old.

Before I had kids, I had time to enjoy some of the finer things in life.

You know, like playing a video game for 14 consecutive hours before realizing that it’s daylight AGAIN, then staggering about in a borderline-psychotic daze, half-expecting flying killer chickens to jump out at you from behind the bushes at any moment and start gnawing on your face.

And then spending three days attempting to restore some semblance of sleep/wake patterns.

So in other words, thanks, kids – I was much stupider before I became a father.

Before I had kids I figured that it would be ridiculously difficult to wrangle babies into those cute little baby outfits.

You know the ones – those ohmygodsocute little outfits with the button-up shirts and the little socks and the baby khakis and whatnot.

I thought it would be ridiculously difficult to get kids into those things.

And you know what?

It is.

You know what’s easier?

A diaper with nothing over top of it.

And on Sundays, just extra special for church, a matching bib.

Cuz Daddy knows him some classy.

Before I had kids, my wife and I got to sleep in every Saturday and Sunday.

We could get up whenever the hell we wanted.

We could laze around, read the paper, make breakfast, wander off at will.

Now?

Now, we don’t ever get to sleep in.

Instead, we are awakened every Saturday and Sunday morning at around 7:00 by a little girl who wanders in to our room, rubbing her eyes and dragging her blanket, asks to climb up into our bed with us, and then proceeds to giggle and wrestle and yell and bounce until we’ve been thoroughly awakened.

She beams with the possibility of the new day that she CANNOT WAIT to start, asking questions and telling stories and twitching about.

She practically vibrates with the excitement of the unknown day to come.

And you know what?

Compared to the wonder and joy and excitement that now ushers in our every morning, despite how much or how little we’ve slept the night before . . . sleeping in suddenly doesn’t look so good.

Before I had kids, I did not understand the appeal of Dora the Explorer.

Now that I have two kids, I still don’t understand the appeal.

And on top of the lack of understanding, now I just want to kill her and her stupid little monkey friend.

Before I had kids, I got pets.

Kids are much better.

Both involve cleaning up plenty of poop, but kids grow out of it.

And also, they rarely eat garbage.

Before I had kids I never really knew what it was to be torn.

Our daughter is three years old.  Which for those of you who are not native English speakers, can loosely be translated as “evil.”

She yells.  She screams.  She talks back.  She doesn’t sleep.  (Therefore we don’t sleep).

So she’s at a sleepover at Grandma’s tonight so that her parents are able to retain their status as Non-Homicidal.

It’s been a torturous week, with her pushing us at every turn.  It was a godsend that we were able to get just one night of peace.

And yet . . .

She’s been gone an hour and . . .

I MISS HER VERY, VERY MUCH!

Feedback Loop

Before I had kids, I really had no idea how much work it could be, Going Out Somewhere.

Going Out Somewhere now involves a great deal of orchestration and preparation:

- change baby

- feed baby

- pack bag for toddler

- pack bag for baby

- wipe visible stains off of parents’ clothing using a baby wipe

- dress baby in outside clothes

- dress toddler in outside clothes

- apply sunscreen to children and parents

- allow toddler to change outfit because ohmygodijustcannotfightthatbattleagain

- send toddler to go to the bathroom

- pack snack and water for toddler

- get shoes on

- load massive, bulky aluminium Expenso-Stroller into car

- pour coffee (ie. Sleep Substitute) for parents

- pack car

- strap toddler into carseat

- latch infant seat into base

- aaaaaand we’re off!

Now, all of this is unsurprising – most parents go through a routine similar to this, pretty much every time they leave the house.

But do you ever wonder what would happen if you got caught in an endless feedback loop wherein it takes you so long to complete all of the items on this list, that by the time you’re done the last item, it’s once again time to change and feed the baby?

What if this happens and you just can’t pick up the pace, so it happens again?  And again?  You start the car but you never. get. in. it. because you can’t break out of the loop?  You spend a full day, not Going Out, but Preparing to Go Out . . . on a trip you never take.

This is the reason Going Out should only be undertaken in optimal circumstances.

This is the reason that cartoons were invented.

Also Jack Daniel’s.

Before I had kids, I had no idea . . . but the Third Burp?  The Third Burp is to be feared.

Burping your baby is necessary, of course.  It can be a challenge with some babies, but then it’s just all the more satisfying to coax out that burp, and provide some satisfaction to your child after they’ve finished doing irreparable damage to their mother’s breasts.

In fact, it can be satisfying to the point that a parent may try to pat extra vigorously in order to coax out as many wee little baby burps as possible.

This is not advisable.

Burp #1

**uurp**

Parents:

“Oooh, that’s a big boy!  That feels better, doesn’t it!”

Burp #2

**uuuuuurp**

Parents:

“Oh my, you did have a good lunch, didn’t you?  Didn’t you?  That’s Daddy’s big girl!

Birp #3

**uuuuuu . . . **

Parents:

“Oh god.  Get the paper towel.  It’s EVERYWHERE.”

Me Sleep Okayly

Before I had kids I believed that sleep deprivation caused all sorts of problems in human beings, such as slurring, an inability to form coherent sentences, and a whole variety of general speech and language difficulties.

Now that I have a baby and a tollder, though, I know this is not true because my shiny monkey talky talk hatfucker cornmeal buggy buggy speaker box is 100% fine.

Just fine.

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