if you put an avacado to your ear, you can hear guacamole*

Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you...Week 16!

Prof. Goldblatt is roughly 4.5 inches long and around 3.5 ounces, or about the size of an avocado. The Prof's legs are much more developed, and his/her eyes and ears are very close to being in their final position. So right now, Overboard has a tiny little Marty Feldman floating around in there. But not for long.

Speaking of Overboard, she's starting to "pop," which makes it easier to talk to Kenny about the baby in Mommy's belly. It's wicked cute when he leans in and uses her bellybutton as the microphone to say, "Hello, baby."


*Any time the word "avocado" is mentioned, Overboard tells this joke. It's her trademark.

kenny goes to the mattresses

Kenny says, "No more monkeys jumping on the bed!"

Last weekend we finally purchased a "big boy bed" for Kenny and he made the move from crib to bed on Sunday night. I'm proud to say that he hasn't looked back (or across the room, in this case), and seems to be enjoying life on a box spring. It definitely helps that he's been napping on a cot at daycare for a long time now, but we were worried he would miss the ol' crib. Not so much.

Kenny's favorite part of his new sleeping arrangement seems to be the cup holder that snaps onto the bed rail that I installed with a maximum of effort and cursing. You wouldn't believe how deceptively pain-in-the-ass that was. But I digress. The cup holder has launched a new game of, "Where'd my cup holder go?" So you know, the answer is usually, "Somewhere on the other side of the room or under the bed, after Kenny has tested its aerodynamics."

With the new bed, we're also phasing out his rocking chair. Instead of reading our bedtime stories in the chair and then placing Mr. K in his crib, we're crawling in bed with him. This is great for now, but I'll be curious to see how easily Overboard finagles that as she gets bigger in the belly with Prof. Goldblatt. We've also been discussing a big comfy chair that seats 2+ as the new rocker. Maybe even one of them glider chairs. We'll see.


Overboard seems to enjoy the snuggling. Who knew?

The most fascinating element here is that Kenny has yet to crawl out of bed after waking up. I completely expected him to slide out of bed in the morning and start playing with his toys, but Mr. Demanding appears to revel in his ability to have toys delivered to him. And, honestly, who wouldn't? Such is the power of the toddler. It could also be that his new bed is somewhat high off the ground, and he hasn't figured out how to crawl back up into it yet. Just a theory.


Evenkeel and Kenny discuss the finer points of "In a People House" and how it relates to the human condition. What can I say? The kid's deep.

As for the crib, it's now laying in wait for Goldblatt. But while it's unocccupied, I realized that it can be used for its original purpose: containment. Kenny threw a mega-fit this morning about not wanting to wash his hands or brush his teeth. As he grew yellier, I finally abandoned rational thought and logical arguments and stashed him in his crib until he was ready to behave.

All hail baby jail!

During the fourth or fifth visit to inquire if he was ready to be a polite (and clean) member of society, Kenny asked if he could move out of the crib and play in his bed. So the bed has shown to be a favorable destination. Which is nice.

welcome to hoth

Just two quick shots of the backyard, in its current frozen, snowy state.* You'll notice that the shots are taken through the window. It was that cold and I'm not that stupid (unless there's some sort of ice skating involved...which there wasn't).


I believe the snow accumulation on the deck table is around 146 inches. But I could be off by 132 inches or so. Either way, it's a lot.


Notice the snow piles along the wall, and near the patio. The patio pile is like four or five feet high. No joke. Heaven help us if we get another quick thaw. We'll need an ark.


*These pix were taken at least two weeks ago, but it still looks just like that. Woo-hoo!

**EDITOR'S SECOND NOTE: This post was written on Sunday. Today is Wednesday, and it snowed another two or three inches last night. So, actually, it looks worse than the pix posted above. Wheeeeee.

spin doctor

The other weekend, we took a trip into the city to visit our friends, the Nisers. Kenny had a lot of fun playing with Ethan and Andy's trains and other assorted toys, even if his sharing skills were not up to his usual standards. We tried several times to remind him that it was not, as he had so loudly indicated, "MY TRAIN!" But, rather, Ethan and Andy's train. One which they were politely sharing with His Shoutiness.

On the upside, Kenny waltzed out of there with a great parting gift: a sit n' spin.


Kenny both sits and spins.

The boys had grown tired of spinning in circles, and their parents had grown tired of the incredibly irritating music that accompanied any good spin session. We were happy to take the sit n' spin off of their hands, and the batteries out of said sit n' spin shortly after returning home. A win-win all around.


Sadie was also pleased to hear the cease in electronica. She's really an old school hard rock girl, after all.

kenny tv

We still try to limit Kenny's TV time, so he doesn't start to totally veg out in front of the boob tube the way his parents do after he goes to bed. However, when he does watch, he has a huge love of two shows in particular: Little Einsteins on Disney and Go, Diego, Go! on Nick Jr.

They're both the kind of show for toddlers where the characters are constantly encouraging the kids watching to react and respond. Kenny has finally hit that fun point where he has started answering back to the TV.

DIEGO: Do you see the macaw in the tree who needs our help?
KENNY: Yes.
DIEGO: Call the macaw and let him know we're on our way! Say, "Hola, Macaw!"
KENNY: Hola, Macaw.

Then, when certain characters from each show appear on screen, Kenny will get super excited and jump out of his seat to either: Loudly announce to his parents that said character has appeared, dance to the music, or both. Often, this means running from the living room into the kitchen and back again (so as to alert the parental units, but not miss any of the action). The cuteness factor is off the charts.

Mission Completion! Olé!

prof. goldblatt makes presence known

The other night, Overboard thought she felt a little flutter in her belly. We were both a little wary of it really being the first "Goldblatt Sighting," since it took Kenny an extra month to begin "fluttering" (15 weeks vs. 19 weeks). That wariness was put to rest (or restless, as the case may be) last night when Overboard looked at me with a big grin, and a twinkle in her eye, and announced that she "definitely felt a flutter!"

So there you have it. Let the sibling rivalry begin.

"You waited 19 weeks to start fluttering? Puh-lease."
"Are you serious? How the %$#@ do you expect me to remember when I started fluttering?"
"MOMMY! Kenny used a naughty word!"
"I'll show you fluttering..."

And so on.

prof. goldblatt is the apple of overboard's belly

Welcome to Week 15.

Prof. Goldblatt is now somewhere around four inches long and weighs roughly 2.5 ounces, or, approximately the size of an apple. A Granny Smith or Red Delicious, I can't really say.

The Professor is working on developing his/her lungs, and can move all of her joints and limbs - which will be helpful for working on break dancing moves or pop n' locking to help pass the time. The Professor's eyes are still fused shut, but he/she can sense light. Given Kenny's love of shining our small flashlight everywhere, this could prove to be an interesting experiment: Shine the light on Overboard's belly and see if Goldblatt moves away from it (or, if the Professor takes after me, towards the spotlight).

Finally, Prof. Goldblatt is forming taste buds. There's not much to taste at the moment, but you wanna be ready for when the good stuff comes down. For instance, Overboard has commented recently that she has a bizarre craving for the Olive Garden, even though she's never been.

"It just looks delicious."

Pregnant ladies, I tells ya. They're full of surprises.

if it's a "soft" ball, then why do they need helmets?

We met up with some friends for brunch this morning, then wandered around a sporting goods store, much to Kenny's delight. He loved playing with the basketballs, footballs, soccer balls, and other assorted circular athletic objects. He also displayed excellent hockey stick holding technique as he used one to swat at the aforementioned balls. Finally, he found a softball helmet that he coveted and proceeded to march around the store with it on. He refused my suggestions for its removal on several occasions, and there were many tears when he was finally, forcibly, relieved of his noggin' protection.

He did look cute tho.


"But now I can run into things head first and Mommy won't get so freaked out!"

the potty training blues

Kenny has regressed in the potty department. While he was previously self-sufficient at daycare, and not too shabby at home, he's recently had a spate of accidents of the #1 variety. Even though Kenny has never taken the initiative at home to just get up and go to the bathroom by himself (although he totally knows how and does so at daycare), he was fairly good about staying clean and dry. Lately, however, he has a complete disregard for the whole thing.

"Do you need to go pee-pee?"
"No."
"Are you sure you don't need to go potty?"
"No potty!"
"Is it strange to you to be denying all of this while standing in urine soaked underwear?"
"Um, no?"

The whole thing is extremely frustrating. We had high hopes that Mr. K would be completely potty trained by now (by a long time ago, actually), and to have taken several steps backwards is disheartening to say the least.

I know that a lot of kids regress at some point before rallying back, but as I mentioned before, Kenny has never really taken the initiative at home. And that's what scares/bothers me. I long for the day when I won't have to pester him and he'll just get up and go when he needs to. Hell, at this point I'd settle for him simply saying he needs to go.

Sigh.

We've got six months before Goldblatt arrives. The goal is to have Kenny where he needs to be by then. Pray for us. Or send your best tips. Whatever works.

evenkeel's happy place

Taken at 10am this morning at the outdoor park rink up the street.

I was the first one there and got the ice to myself for a good half hour. Overboard dropped Kenny off at daycare and then went to the gym. Later, we're gonna enjoy our "date day" and get lunch and see a movie.

Thanks, MLK. I know this might not exactly be what you had in mind, but we appreciate it all the same.

prof. goldblatt's no lemon

Just the size of one.

We've hit week 14 of the pregnancy, which puts Overboard into her second trimester. Since things seem to be following the same trajectory as last time, we're hoping this means she won't be quite as exhausted. I've also been informed that the lack of coffee is not helping the situation.

According to our trusty source, Prof. Goldblatt now measures around 3.5 inches from top to bottom, or about the size of a lemon. The good professor can squint, frown, grimace, urinate and maybe suck on a thumb. Which is an interesting sight to ponder: The professor concentrating with all of his/her might, while pondering just what that odd sensation "down below" is. Then, outta nowhere, he/she pees, causing those same facial muscles to move from intense focus to relaxed perplexity. Luckily, the professor knows that, while it isn't polite to pee on your Mommy, it's totally cool to pee in her belly. Good times.

buzz your teeth

As has been previously covered in this blog, Kenny can be difficult when it comes to brushing his teeth. If given the option, he will simply suck the grape toothpaste off of the tooth brush and completely neglect the whole "brushing" aspect of the process. To distract and appease him into letting us brush his teeth for him, we sing songs.

A little while back, I rattled off a list of his greatest hits but got nothing but "no's" in return. Bowed, but not broken, I tried a new approach.

"What about Spiderman?"
"No."
"Superman?"
"No."
"Shiny teeth?"
"No."
"How about Buzz Lightyear?"
"Buzz?"

Success! Now I just had to make up a song about Buzz...

[sung to the tune of "Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes"]
"Buzz Lightyear, to infinity and beyond
Buzz Lightyear, this is the Buzz Lightyear song
When the galaxy is in danger, they call their favorite space ranger
Buzz Lightyear, to infinity and beyond!"

Overboard hasn't quite grasped this one, and to be honest, kind of mails it in from time to time. The other night I heard this version emanating from the bathroom:

"Buzz Lightyear, to infinity and beyond
Buzz Lightyear, is, um, awesome
Eyes, and ears, and mouth, and nose...head, shoulders, knees and toes...knees and toes!"

As a lyricist, you just hate it when people don't respect the craft. You know?

m-jaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay!

When talking to one another in front of Kenny, Overboard and I try to use the names, "Mommy" and "Daddy." Why? Well, you don't want your toddler calling you by your first name. It's just not right.

But no parents are perfect, and sometimes we do use our "real names" in front of the boy.

Consequently, Kenny has lately begun to scream, "M-J" at the top of his lungs, when he means to say, "Mommy." Well, that's sort of true. He totally means to say "M-J," we just tell him he means (and needs) to say, "Mommy."

On a related note, I dare you to try and keep a straight face when your toddler is sitting on the potty bellowing your significant other's name.

Parenting. It's a process.

kenny on ice

One small skate for Kenny, one giant skate for Evenkeel's projected hopes and dreams.

On January 3, the two hockey teams I play with, the Phantoms and the Piranhas, held their second annual family holiday skate and scrimmage. The first 45 minutes of the night were for everyone to skate around, followed by a 45 minute scrimmage. Afterwards, the assembled hockey fans gathered for pizza and cake.

I went to the rink early so I could get my gear on and Kenny could finish his nap. When Overboard arrived with Mr. K, he came running down the ramp to the lobby of the rink and called out at the top of his lungs, "Daddy! Daddy! It's good to see you!" And it was.

Kenny's feet are still too small for the rental hockey skates, but just big enough for a pair of rental figure skates. And that was good enough for his first real skate.


Who was happier about being on the ice? It was hard to tell.

Kenny loved skating. More directly, Kenny loved moving around the ice while holding onto Daddy's hands (or the occasional helper who took pity on Daddy's back). He flat-out refused to use any sort of skating aid, be it a chair or bar to hold onto, instead opting to make Daddy do the work. You see, Kenny somehow knew that he could make Daddy suffer for the sake of seeing his son so joyous. Every time I tried to take a break and pawn him off on Overboard (who stood just outside the rink) he screamed in anger. I pity the poor hockey coach who tries to bench him or tell him his shifts are running too long.


Victoria helps Evenkeel repeat his skating mantra of, "Okay, Kenny, feet together, head up!"

"Look at me, Ma! I'm gonna be in the Ice Capades!"

Eventually, Kenny had to leave the ice so we could hold our scrimmage. This was met by a great deal of tears, which finally gave way to cheers for Daddy and his remarkable hockey skill when not in a real game situation.


Evenkeel's biggest fans. They stopped heckling to pose for a picture.

The night was capped off by the previously mentioned pizza, cake, and vigorous games of "Ring Around the Rosy," "Sneak Attack" tickle fights and "Stick a finger in Ava's Aunt Beth's Ear™."


Ava and Kenny suggest you don't try to fight the sugar rush. It's best just to let it win.

Kenny couldn't get enough of Beth's ear. And, really, who can?

I can't wait till next year's skate to see whether or not Kenny is out and about on his own. Maybe he'll even have a hockey stick. Just don't tell his mother I said that.

prof. goldblatt

As most of you know, this lovely blog was created back in 2005 to document our progression from a married couple to a married couple with child. Well, today the blog takes another leap forward in its evolution.

Ladies and Gentlemen, dear readers of the blog, may I introduce you to Professor Goldblatt:

The Professor at 13 weeks.

Yes, Overboard and I are gonna rock Kenny's world come July 15 with the arrival of the baby currently known as "Professor Goldblatt." For anyone who came into this blog late, I will mention here that Kenny's baby codename was "Dr. Rosenberg" and that this was once known as "the Rosenblog."

We discovered we were gonna be parents again back in November, and have been sitting on this news ever since. Now that the first trimester is behind us, we're willing to share. Or overshare, even, since this was the picture I originally wanted to use to break the news:

Subtle, no? I actually stole the idea from my buddy Jarrod. He's clever like that.*

As was the case with Kenny, we will be finding out Goldblatt's gender at the 20 week mark, and we will share that information. Names, however, will stay under wraps until Goldblatt makes his or her triumphant appearance in July. Not that it should stop you from making suggestions for us to ignore, er, consider. We always get a kick out of that.

July 15. That's a big day as it's my brother's birthday. And July is a big month. Because seemingly everyone in this family has something going on that month. My dad, brother, brother-in-law, sister-in-law, cousin, and even myself have birthdays in July. My niece even celebrates her half-birthday in July. There are also two wedding anniversaries (including our own), and some friend's birthdays. Plus you have that whole 4th of July thing, which comes with a great parade right in front of the house. And, if we're feeling like Francophiles, there's Bastille Day (which is also known as my cousin's birthday, but without the French part).

But what the hell. The more the merrier.

Finally, just as we did with Kenny, I'll soon start posting our week by week updates of how Goldblatt is progressing, and what size vegetable, animal or mineral he/she is (currently a medium-sized shrimp).

My parting thought is that Kenny is in for a serious reality check once Goldblatt arrives and he loses his status as the baby around here. I have already commented to Overboard that I think Sadie will follow Kenny around, snickering, and saying things like, "Oh, it's on now! Yeah, you thought you were so slick coming in and stealing my thunder, but now let's see how you like a little competition. Muwahahahaha. Wait a sec...I think that thing just dropped some food on the floor. Later, gator."

Or something like that.


*Overboard doesn't doubt Jarrod's cleverness, but she gave me a lot of grief about posting a picture of something she peed on. She may have a point, but she was trumped by my sense of humor and nostalgia. After all, that peed on piece of plastic changed our world forever. And it's funny. So there.

take me out to the hockey game

Evenkeel and AJ start the year off right.

As many of you know, I am a fan of this sport they call "hockey." Also, many of you may know that the NHL decided to hold it's second annual "Winter Classic" in Chicago, featuring the Blackhawks vs. the Detroit Red Wings at Wrigley Field. Last year, the event was held in Buffalo and they sold something like 72,000 tickets. Wrigley holds about 42,000 or so. To say this was a tough ticket to get would be a bit of an understatement. Luckily, I have connections. Or, rather, my brother still has connections, and I was able to score two seats in the bleachers.

AJ and I had a blast at the game, even though it was a tad chilly. Sure, it would have been great if the Blackhawks had managed to win, but it was still very cool to be part of such a historic event. While half of Chicago will claim to have attended the game, we actually did.

Here are a few snapshots and even a video taken during the national anthem. For those not in the know, it's a Blackhawks tradition to cheer during the anthem. I never got to attend a game at the old Chicago Stadium, but apparently the place would absolutely shake when they did this.


AJ poses in front of the ice truck that brought the rink up from Alabama. Where, as we all know, they are the foremost experts in creating ice to skate on.

We're not really smiling. Our faces simply froze in that position.

Bob Costas stands on a snowbank for his broadcast. I love this guy. He makes me feel tall.

The players make their way out to the ice. It took the Red Wings over two minutes to walk from the guest clubhouse, through the bowels of Wrigley, and out to the ice. Gotta love that. If only it had made them more tired.

Check out the anthem and fly-by:



The first 20 minutes were actually action-packed and led by the 'Hawks. Too bad the game is 60 minutes long.

The final score. Still, I love looking up at the scoreboard and seeing hockey.

The post-game handshake. "So, um, sorry for running you into the boards from behind."

Now I can scratch "watch an outdoor professional hockey game at a major league ballpark" off my list. Whew.

kenny's sledding adventure

It's snowing here again. A lot. But before we got all of this new snow, we had all of that old snow. This story takes place back during that old snow of late 2008.


Kenny scales Mt. Snowpile in Front of the Living Room Window.

"Hmmm...interesting consistency. Sort of like my underwear right about now. Best not tell the parents just yet."

During our winter break, we took advantage of the snow by buying a plastic snow-faring device and finally getting some use out of the gigantic sled hill in the park up the street. I am pleased to say that Kenny was a HUGE fan of sledding, and shows signs of true reckless abandon when plummeting down steep hills. While Overboard is unsure of how she really feels about this, I'm having visions of a slightly larger Kenny barreling down some mountain out west, strapped to a snowboard that was provided to him by his Uncle Mike. As Evenkeel is to wanting to skate with his son, nieces and nephews, Unlce Mike is to wanting to snowboard with them. That was my terrible attempt at a SAT-style example. Almost pulled it off too.


Overboard drags Kenny to the park and ignores his cries of, "Mush!"

This is living.

We met up with the Brandts at the sled hill, and everyone took turns going down the hill, or sending small children down it. Or taking small children down it while trying to avoid running over other small children. My personal favorite were the high school kids who attempted to send six or seven people on two or three sleds down at one time in some sort of giant heap.


Kenny wonders whether or not his parents will let him make a run on his own from the top. For the record, they did not.

Evenkeel and Kenny go for a slide down the hill.

At this point you may be asking, "But, Evenkeel, how do you know if Kenny was really having fun?" Because he looked like this:

This is not the face of an unhappy camper.

Kenny's buddy Ava got into the act as well.

All in all, the outing was a great success, and completely validated the money I spent on the overpriced hunk of plastic we call a sled. I'm thinking we may head back out to the hill for some sledding tomorrow. If I can find time in between shoveling.

happy honda

Who has a demented sense of humor to match my own? My sister-in-law, Amy. That's who. For the record, the hat is battery-operated, and the candles actually light up.

So, back in December, it was Hanukkah! Or Hanuka. Or Chanukah. Or whatever way you want to spell, "That holiday where Kenny hauled in the loot." The way Kenny pronounces it, it sounds more like, "Happy Honda." That will be funny to me until such time as he is no longer talking about a festival of lights, and is instead referring to his desire for a Japanese automobile.


Overboard reads Kenny the rules of the Hanukkah candles. Rule #1: A Hanukkah candle is not like a birthday candle. We do not extinguish it with mad blowing, no matter how tempting that may be.

Kenny got a lot of gifts this year, and I'm so proud to say that he is quite adept in using the phrase, "More presents?" He also discovered the fun of a dreidel - or, rather, the fun of Daddy spinning several dreidels at once - and that he doesn't much care for latkes (even when they're homemade). Personally, I don't understand how you couldn't love fried potatoes, but we could fill a whole other blog with my odd culinary quirks.

As previously mentioned, Kenny got a lot of great gifts, and it wouldn't be polite or fair to say he had any favorites. But I will say that he loves to run around the house screaming, "To infinity and beyond!" Possibly while holding his new Buzz Lightyear action figure, courtesy of Grandma and Grandpa.


Kenny and his new best friend, known around the house as "Big Buzz" since he also has a small plastic verion known as...wait for it..."Little Buzz."

Now come with me as we highlight a few more Hanukkah memories...


Kenny thanked Aunt Idelle via Skype for his new piggy bank. While he loves to put change into it, he has begun showing even more love for throwing said change all around the room.

Kenny learned how to delicately disembowel a present. That is to say, he enjoyed unwrapping his gifts.

Kenny and Evenkeel read "Ten Little Elvi" (courtesy of the Carlsbad Rolnicks) and discuss the pros and cons of peanut butter and banana sandwiches.

Kenny loved his Little Einsteins bath set that Grammy Shirley gave him so much that he requested taking a bath for something like nine or ten nights in a row.

Kenny shows off his new Cars cars, courtesy of Aunt Amy, Uncle John and Cousin Sara. Notice the giddy demeanor.

Kenny shows incredible restraint when faced with nine candles all screaming to be blown out. It probably helped that he was strapped into his high chair.

A small cross-section of some of Kenny's new books. There were more. Lots more.

Kenny respects the classics. He also received "The Lorax" and "Horton Hears a Who."

Mr. Man also got a spiffy new Chanukah puzzle and a piano. While he enjoys banging away at the piano, Evenkeel has actually mastered the complexities of "Mary had a little lamb" with minimal mistakes. Thankyouverymuch.

Overboard shows off her artistic flair on Kenny's new magnadoodle. Combined with his new Etch-a-Sketch, he now has ample opportunities to draw, dazzle, erase, and repeat.

Lest ye think that's it, Kenny received a slew of additional gifts (I just don't have those pictures). It's enough to keep us all entertained for quite some time, so for that, we say, "thanks!"

tropic of cancer

My brave, but embarrassed, post-op pup.

Back in December, I took Sadie for her regular check-up. Unfortunately, the doctor noticed a small lump in her leg that she had been gnawing at. After a biopsy, it was discovered that the lump was malignant and would need to be removed.

So we went back two weeks later and Sadie had surgery to remove the lump. She came through okay, but would need to wear a "cone of shame" to keep her from licking at the wound and messing up her sutures.

The first night was the roughest, as I wasn't allowed to give her more than a cup of water and no food for several hours. This was to make sure the anesthesia had fully worn off and avoid any regurgitation issues. I was totally cool with keeping the dog from retching all over the joint, but it was torture for her and us to have to withhold food and water.

Sadie lumbered around the house - bonking off of everything with her new cone - and cried and whimpered to be watered and fed. It was like watching a heroin addict deal with the DTs, and not a pretty picture. It would have been completely heartbreaking, if it weren't for that damn cone, which, evil as it may be, is inherently comical. Sad, but comical.

To help counteract the aforementioned comic nature of everything, I spent that first night walking around cleaning up the drips of blood that occasionally emanated from her wound. Then, to add insult to injury, Sadie needed to be lifted up and carried upstairs. Let me add here that the dog absolutely detests being picked up. Good times.

The cone of shame was in place for ten days, until Sadie went back to the vet to get her stitches out. Then, in another evil twist, we had to keep the cone on for an additional two days post-stitches, to make sure she didn't muss with one part of the wound that still needed to heal.

No one around here misses the cone, especially the backs our legs and the doorways - which were all targets for bumping. I hung onto the plastic torture device, but let's just hope we never have to use it again.


Sadie feels much shame. And anger. And probably hunger.