You find something you like, you stick with it.

My younger daughter loves it when I hold her upside down.  Who am I to  disappoint the most single-minded person I know?  I hoist her up again and again.  She practically climbs up my chest and over my head so that I can suspend her from her ankles as she hangs down my backside, giggling...  As soon as I let her down, she reaches up with both hands for another go.  It's simple, Daddy.  You find something you like, you stick with it.  Who cares if you don't like it tomorrow?  It's not an investment.  It's just a way to live your life.  How many times do I have to teach you this, Daddy?  My answer:  I don't know - but please, please keep trying.  I distinctly recall being able to learn new things.  Okay.  Ready?  Up you go!...

Warning - Cliff Approaching!

We announced today, that we're expecting our third child in the spring.  Three children means we will be officially outnumbered from the moment the baby is born until, ...the rest of our lives.  That's all.  It's just the rest of our lives, - What's the problem with that?  The problem is that everyday, lately, there are several instances when our two sweet, gem-like offspring, become loud, boisterous beasts who seem to have forgotten English and who can now get away from us by running and jumping and climbing and slipping into tiny holes that we never noticed before.  During each one of those instances, we are thinking "Oh my  God! - What are we going to do when there's 3 of them?!"  This is scary.  Then they fall asleep and we think about how great it will be with a new baby in the house.  This calms us and fills us with longing and strength - for about 5 seconds until we collapse and fall asleep ourselves.  Before we know it, it's the middle of the night and one of our  daughters is calling "Daddy, Daddy, Daddy,..."  Generally, all either of them wants is just for me to wake up and stumble groggily down the hallway to be close by so she can drift right back to sleep.  Then I go back to sleep.  My head hits the pillow, I close my eyes and it's immediately time to wake up.

We decided to have another child  because we wanted to have another baby and because 3 sounds like a nice number.  Babies simply cannot be overrated, but as far as 3 being a nice number, - that's just idiotic.  I'm picturing a steam roller with the smiling faces of my 3 children on it.  It's rolling toward me as I back up slowly, prolonging the inevitable.  The inevitable, in this case, means that my children love me, but that won't stop them from killing me.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to wander about in an exhausted state and take care of thousands of tiny little tasks.  All of them out of order, and all unnoticed, but each and every one of them absolutely essential to a household that I'm trying desperately to keep undetected by reality television.