Wednesday, March 07, 2007

Caution: This Post's as Disjointed as My Mind

We've officially entered the phase when we need an extra arm (or three) to accomplish a simple diaper change. Seriously, people, please tell me this will pass quickly! I'm doing my best to use my big girl words like "stop", "no" and "that's enough" but what I really want to do is shout, "for the love of pete would you please just knock it off because if you would just lie still for 10 seconds this whole process would take a third as much time!". But no. I just keep going with the stops and nos and then resort to pinning his little shoulders down with my left forearm while the right hand is furiously working to swap out the huggies. It's really fun. You should come over and give it a whirl!

I also, of course, maintain my sternest face while this is happening until he pulls out the big guns like he did this morning. He's frantically giving me the all done sign (which I'm verrrrry good at ignoring in times like this) and then turns, looks at his hand, does the signal again for himself and gets the funniest look on his face. I swear he was thinking, "is this thing broken? (signal) hmmm, no, looks like it's working to me!" and to that, I had to turn away so I could smile without him seeing me. Very clever, Wyatt-san, very clever.

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It amazes me that after two+ years of living here, I still see new funny things which must be documented with photos. Here's the latest example from the aquarium:

That's right, it's an umbrella vending machine! Let's talk about how smart this is because I've totally been caught at the aquarium sans weather shield and it would've come in handy. What makes this even better is that the smaller umbrellas are only Y450 and the full-size are only Y650. They're a steal! And yes, I'm pretty sure the Japanese people thought the white mommies with all the kids were kind of odd for taking picutres of the vending machine. Whatever. I encourage those of you in America to be a little less quick to judge when you see a foreigner admiring something we consider to be totally normal.

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Jeff has returned from his little flying jaunt on mainland and it's nice to have him home but, in his absence, I was able to forget that it's Mustache March. Ahhh, you don't know Mustache March? You lucky soul, you. It's when all the guys in the squadron decide that it's fun to compete with their facial hair. That means it's also the month when wives' eye rolling increases exponentially and it's scary to be in a group setting because they all look like wanna-be porn stars. It's really nice. Really, really nice. So sorry no one's here to enjoy it with me.

4 comments:

Ade said...

Hang in there...it quickly becomes "not so fun" to escape! OK, you must document the mustache growth over the month and share with us far away! Miles will be so jealous!

Stephanie said...

Oh, I think anyone can participate in Mustache March. Miles should open the KC branch!

PC said...

So where's the photo journalism on Mustache March? Maybe at the end of the month we'll be treated with a time-lapse video of Jeff taken in the same position in front of a camera at the same time every day, huh? Or is that just silly?? :)

Aunt Sharon said...

Well, the diaper incident just makes you glad he's not TWINS, right? I remember those days--times two! Mustache March is like our Tucson Rodeo Days, especially years ago when all of the guys would decide to enter the "longest beard" contest during Rodeo Days in February. No THOSE were serious, because you couldn't just start in February--well, maybe February of one year for the NEXT year, and maybe a mustache was needed to fully complete the beard picture. Those little escapades sometimes turned into not months, but years! Once the beard started turning white, though, the interest waned! On HIS part, I mean. Mine had waned a long time before that--like kissing a brillo pad!