Archive for December, 2007

And To All A Good Night

Merry Christmas from the Dwyers

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Christmas Belles

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‘Twas the night before Christmas, and though Pru was squrimin’


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The Very Picture of Health

Pru had her one-month checkup this week.  Everything looks pretty good.

Her vital statistics:

Length:  20.5 inches (28th percentile)
Weight:  9 lb. 11 oz. (66th percentile)
Head Circumference:  38.5 cm (82nd percentile)

Plus, she’s developing good neck-muscle skills and decent eye-focusing skills (both of which have improved markedly in the last few days).

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Best. Gift. Ever.  Thanks, Tripp.

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Prosperous Cheetahs

Three belated thoughts on the Mitchell Report (list of players implicated here):

1) I’m shocked to see John Rocker‘s name on the list. All this time, I’d assumed the near-psychotic rage he displayed on and off the field was all-natural, the result of a carefully cultivated disdain for all persons other than John Rocker and a native chemical imbalance in his brain. To learn now that he was supplementing these with ‘roid rage-inducing banned substances really shatters some of the ol’ cherished illusions.

2) The obvious big winner from the whole business is Barry Bonds. Because now anyone who was planning to vote against his admission to Cooperstown on the grounds that he cheated is going to have to do the same to Roger Clemens (and someday potentially for Miguel Tejada) or admit that they’re voting against Bonds because he’s a world-class @$$hole (clearly not a technically disqualifying factor).

3) The less-obvious big winner is Ken Griffey, Jr. Not just because he was (along with Alex Rodriguez) the best hitter of his era who was not juicing, but because revisionist baseball historians are going to look back on all those injury-addled years with the Reds and regard his decision not to pull an Andy Pettitte and use a banned substance “just” to get back on the field as especially worthy.

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Con-artist woman reportedly has ten husbands.

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Pru has been quite a handful over the last week.  Literally.  She’s going through a phase where during the day and during much of the night she won’t sleep unless she’s being held.  Needless to say, this complicates things like blogging, emailing, cooking, cleaning, and shopping for and wrapping Christmas presents significantly.  We’ve more or less taken to eating in shifts, for example.

I’m not sure what the cause of this change is (when she was newly home, she slept all day long, and was relatively content to just lay in her crib even when she was awake so long as she wasn’t hungry or needing a change).  I suspect it’s partially developmental – she’s presumably been going through her three-week growth spurt, which apparently increases discomfort and fussiness in infants.  It’s also probably partially environmental – the heater in the bedroom stopped producing hot air about two and a half weeks ago, which made it very hard to keep her adequately warm.  The heater is heating again now, sort of, but only after a still-unfinished series of tragicomic misadventures, which I may describe in a subsequent post, tentatively titled “Why I Am Withholding Next Month’s Rent On The Basis of a Breach of The Implied Warranty of Habitability”; nevertheless, I think she’s come to associate being in her crib with being cold and uncomfortable.

Anyway, she’s asleep now, as is Sarah; I’m up early to run some “have to be done before 8:30 am” errands.  (Perhaps a nap this afternoon.)  Speaking of errands, I should be off, but so as to leave this post not a total bummer, I’ll pass on some cute pictures of the Pru-bear:


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It’s Got What Plants Crave!

Coming soon for sale: Brawndo, the Thirst Mutilator! It sounds gross beyond measure, but I may have to pick up one or two to keep with the can of Buzz Cola I bought around the time of the Simpsons Movie. One must maintain one’s collection of fictional beverages. h/t: Steve Sailer

By the way, if you’ve never seen Idiocracy, you’re cheating yourself, and should be ashamed. I know I’m ashamed of you for you.

Please be aware that both the Brawndo ad and Idiocracy contain some strong language and are at least potentially not safe for work. Don’t say you weren’t warned.

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If you’re Catholic, be sure to get to Mass today – it’s the Feast of the Immaculate Conception, which, because it’s the patronal feast of the United States, does not get moved to the nearest Sunday even when it falls on a Saturday. We just got back from Mass ourselves. It was Pru’s second visit, as we’d stopped by briefly this past week to drop off our tithes for the two weeks we missed and our RSVP (negative, alas) for the Christmas party. She’s not a Christian yet, so she technically doesn’t have to go, but Cal stubbornly refuses to babysit unless we let him raid the fridge and make long distance calls on the phone. We tell him we don’t have a land-line, but he won’t listen!

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