Dudes Night

Hey guys! Josh here with blogging duties today.

As many of you know, Lib is on a three day rotation at the hospital, meaning she works three 7pm - 7am shifts in a row, then has few days off before going back to work again. So when Lib is at work, I'm Mr. Mom at home with Noah and Weenie Dog.

Initially, I was a little nervous about staying at home all by myself with Noah. He was 3 months old when Lib went back to work, and he was still a pretty small little guy. I have neither the expertise nor the experience working with babies that Libby has. Most importantly, I lack one critical tool in caring for Noah: breasts full of milk. Seriously, those things are like magic. They never fail with crying babies. Or at least they never fail with ours.

So, I didn't know how everything was gonna work out. But it actually turned out quite well. I dare say I look forward to Dudes Night in the Bonjour home. And I'd like to think Noah does too.

We get to do all kinds of fun stuff when Mom isn't around. Like watching SportsCenter. Like nodding our heads and pretending that we're gangstaz while listening to Trip Lee. Like fixing the computer. Like playing PS3. Like watching R-rated movies. Just kidding on that last one - don't bombard me with hate mail.

Yeah there was the night that Noah had a tummy ache (i think?), and we were both crying til 3am. And there are the nasty, make me throw up in my mouth, "I can't believe this came out of your little body!" diapers. And the times when Noah thinks it's funny to pee on me while I'm trying to change said diaper. But the fun, guy bonding times definitely overshadow the not-so-fun times.

With all the fun we have on Dudes Night, we don't always get to the bath. Libby can't understand why. She was on my case the other day because Noah once went 3 straight days without a bath on my watch. I keep trying to explain to her that it's not that big of a deal. Noah doesn't have B.O., yet. Babies always smell good except when their diapers explode. And when Noah has a diaper explosion, I hose him off in the sink with that handy little sprayer. After that, we're good to go.

I'm pretty sure people in Europe only shower once every couple of weeks, and I know we're doing better than that. Trust me, when Noah is old enough to have to put deodorant on every day, I'll make sure he showers. Until then, aren't little boys supposed to be a little dirty?

Lest you think I never bathe him, here's evidence of a recent bath.



His expression kills me. I love Dudes Night.

I love being a Dad.

Have a good Thursday.

We Have A Pug That's Really A Weenie Dog

Hey guys, Josh here with my inaugural post on the family blog.

So, Lib was getting ready for work last night around 6pm, and I was in our bedroom with Noah, successfully feeding him but unsuccessfully trying to get him down for a nap, when both of us heard a disturbing noise outside. It took us a minute to figure out what the sound was, but the persistent 'mew' soon made it obvious that a cat was sitting inches from our front door.

Let me preface this story by acknowledging that in no way, shape, form, or fashion am I fond of cats. In fact, that's an understatement for those who know me well. I have a few cat jokes I could share, but in a nod to good taste I'll keep them to myself. Libby isn't as extreme in her dislike of cats as I am, but she doesn't really care for them either.

Anyway, the cat was practically yelling at the door for us to let it in, and Libby was trying to figure out how she was going to get out to go to work without the cat slipping in. Forget the fact that we don't like cats, neither one of us wants any intruding member of the animal kingdom scurrying around our house and jumping on our bed/couch/son. Plus, it could be a stray carrying fleas and some gnarly form of eosinophilic granuloma.

We eventually decided the best course of action was to let Einstein chase it away. I looked out the peephole and didn't see the cat, but I decided to take Einstein out on the leash anyway so that if we happened to run into the cat, it would know that there's a sheriff patrolling the area and not to come around again. Sure enough, as soon as we turned the corner, I saw the perpetrator in the flower bed right outside our window. I immediately let Einstein off the leash so he could chase it away.

It took Einstein a minute to see the cat, but he eventually caught the scent and started sniffing his way to its owner. Then he looked up and froze. He had seen the cat.

"Sick 'em Einstein!"

Nothing.

"Go on, Einie. Take no prisoners."

Still nothing.

I looked at the cat to see if it was hissing or had its claws drawn. Nope. I looked back at Einstein, and you know what he's doing? You know what our Lord-Protector, bark at any little sound, "I once tried to pick a fight with a great dane," guard dog is doing? He's SHAKING. And backing up! Backing up from this:

This is too much for me. I've seen some ferocious strays and some pretty mean house cats in my time. But this little kitty???

I called Einstein back to me, and, relieved, he turned around and gladly came. He went to do his business, making sure to keep at least a 30 yard buffer between himself and the cat.

I'm so ashamed.

So, to all the burglars reading this: Feel free to come and have a go at our apartment, because, as you know by now, all that stands between you and all of our stuff is a Weenie Dog trapped in a Pug's body.

Ok, that was a little therapeutic. Thanks for reading my story. Have a good weekend.