<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5444338812694087814</id><updated>2011-07-08T03:23:13.475-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Diapers and Dudes</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diapersanddudes.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5444338812694087814/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diapersanddudes.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>AdamK</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03989986401299682690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>36</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5444338812694087814.post-5184344995763499642</id><published>2010-06-27T06:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-27T06:25:10.998-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Casual Attire</title><content type='html'>I had a day with just me and Mason and we decided to go to the movies, which is a treat for both of us. It was a late afternoon movie and we got there early to make sure we go tickets.&lt;div&gt;True to form, Mason told me that he had to go to the bathroom when we got there, so we walked in to the mens room.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As I am standing there I notice something interesting&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Me - "Mason, are you wearing any underwear?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mason - "Well, this is kind of embarrassing"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;"I'm going commando!!!!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Me - "It's 2:30, did you wear any today?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mason - "Nope, I guess not"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5444338812694087814-5184344995763499642?l=diapersanddudes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diapersanddudes.blogspot.com/feeds/5184344995763499642/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5444338812694087814&amp;postID=5184344995763499642' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5444338812694087814/posts/default/5184344995763499642'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5444338812694087814/posts/default/5184344995763499642'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diapersanddudes.blogspot.com/2010/06/casual-attire.html' title='Casual Attire'/><author><name>AdamK</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03989986401299682690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5444338812694087814.post-3366802890876166311</id><published>2010-06-27T06:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-27T06:18:34.266-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Son......the dog</title><content type='html'>When we were potty training Mason, one of the ways that worked for us was to let him go pee in the backyard. It worked well and he learned when to pee. He still loves to pee in the backyard. That's fine.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When we decided to start Ben on the potty training path, we thought it would be a good idea to try the same approach.....We THOUGHT&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A few days ago we are in the backyard and Ben, who was in diapers, tells us that he made a doody. So I told him that we need to go inside to change him. He said "no", but I told him that he can not play outside with a doody in his diaper. He response was not what I wanted.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ben - "The doody is not in my diaper"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Me - "What!?!?!?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ben - "I made a doody in the backyard"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sure enough, Ben went behind a little bush and did the squat. I think the backyard training should be left to animals and when we move the training inside, I will not use the newspaper technique&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5444338812694087814-3366802890876166311?l=diapersanddudes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diapersanddudes.blogspot.com/feeds/3366802890876166311/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5444338812694087814&amp;postID=3366802890876166311' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5444338812694087814/posts/default/3366802890876166311'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5444338812694087814/posts/default/3366802890876166311'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diapersanddudes.blogspot.com/2010/06/my-sonthe-dog.html' title='My Son......the dog'/><author><name>AdamK</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03989986401299682690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5444338812694087814.post-3471733457603090171</id><published>2010-06-27T06:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-27T06:13:18.359-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The F Word</title><content type='html'>Well, It finally happened.....Mason used the f word for the first time.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;He had just come back from a playdate and he was telling me all about it, including how he got to play the Wii, or at least tried to.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So the story goes.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mason -  "Daddy, we were trying to play the Wii, but there was only one remote". &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Me - "That's too bad"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mason - "yeah the fuggin(how he said it) cleaners must have moved it"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I asked him to repeat himself a few times just to make sure what he was saying.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As he tells it, he learned it from his buddy who learned it from his daddy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well, at least he used it in the proper context&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5444338812694087814-3471733457603090171?l=diapersanddudes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diapersanddudes.blogspot.com/feeds/3471733457603090171/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5444338812694087814&amp;postID=3471733457603090171' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5444338812694087814/posts/default/3471733457603090171'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5444338812694087814/posts/default/3471733457603090171'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diapersanddudes.blogspot.com/2010/06/f-word.html' title='The F Word'/><author><name>AdamK</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03989986401299682690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5444338812694087814.post-5974236270924795721</id><published>2009-12-28T18:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-28T18:24:44.840-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Candyman</title><content type='html'>So Ben is two years old now ( A little older then two) and this is what happened this evening.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The family is just hanging out this evening and Ben decides to put his hands down his pants. The following is the conversation&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Beth: What are you doing?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ben: I dunno.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Beth: What do you have down there?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ben: Candy&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;(Pulling his hand out of his pants and pretending to eat candy)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ben: It's yummy...Want some Mommy?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Beth: No thanks (trying really hard not to laugh, but failing)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;(Ben puts his hands down his pants again and pulls them out again)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ben: Want some Daddy? It's yummy!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Me: No Thanks ( not evening trying to hold back the laughter)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So my two year old already has a pickup line? "Hey, I have candy in my pants...want some...it's yummy." Something tells me that would end badly. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5444338812694087814-5974236270924795721?l=diapersanddudes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diapersanddudes.blogspot.com/feeds/5974236270924795721/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5444338812694087814&amp;postID=5974236270924795721' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5444338812694087814/posts/default/5974236270924795721'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5444338812694087814/posts/default/5974236270924795721'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diapersanddudes.blogspot.com/2009/12/candyman.html' title='The Candyman'/><author><name>AdamK</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03989986401299682690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5444338812694087814.post-6558575887535910001</id><published>2009-11-14T09:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-14T09:04:05.821-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Potty Time</title><content type='html'>It's been a very long time since my last post....The boys are just taking all my time....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, Ben has found the potty interesting and wants to at least sit on it. There has been no activity yet, but we have made the first step. Here is where it gets interesting. In order for him to want to sit on the little potty, he has to take offf his pants AND his shirt. It's kind of like that episode of Sienfeld where George takes off his shirt, but in this case Ben likes to be totally naked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's hope this is just a phase. I would hate for this to continue when he gets to college&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5444338812694087814-6558575887535910001?l=diapersanddudes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diapersanddudes.blogspot.com/feeds/6558575887535910001/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5444338812694087814&amp;postID=6558575887535910001' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5444338812694087814/posts/default/6558575887535910001'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5444338812694087814/posts/default/6558575887535910001'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diapersanddudes.blogspot.com/2009/11/potty-time.html' title='Potty Time'/><author><name>AdamK</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03989986401299682690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5444338812694087814.post-8080620022687935018</id><published>2009-03-05T17:21:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-05T17:28:18.325-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Now THAT is a Shadow Puppet</title><content type='html'>The evening was going like any other..Dinner, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;playtime&lt;/span&gt; and then time for a bath (for the kids).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can not say how much the boys like taking a bath or tubby as we like to call it. Mason takes a great deal of pride in how fast he can get ready for the bath. The clothes come flying off and he is ready to jump in to the tub before the water is even turned on.....but not this evening.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, Mason quickly got ready for the bath while I was slowly getting Ben ready for the tub. I turn around and there is Mason &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;standing&lt;/span&gt; in the hall, with his legs set wide apart and his head is focused on the floor. He's just standing there...focused.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I look at him and ask what is going on and the response....I'm looking for the penis shadow....Yes, I said that correctly. The light from the floor is casting a shadow on the floor and he sees his arms, legs and head.....now is is contorting his waste to find the penis shadow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some days you &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;just have&lt;/span&gt; to scratch your head and keep on walking........&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5444338812694087814-8080620022687935018?l=diapersanddudes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diapersanddudes.blogspot.com/feeds/8080620022687935018/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5444338812694087814&amp;postID=8080620022687935018' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5444338812694087814/posts/default/8080620022687935018'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5444338812694087814/posts/default/8080620022687935018'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diapersanddudes.blogspot.com/2009/03/now-that-is-shadow-puppet.html' title='Now THAT is a Shadow Puppet'/><author><name>AdamK</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03989986401299682690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5444338812694087814.post-4878073764749752856</id><published>2009-02-22T16:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-22T17:05:37.247-08:00</updated><title type='text'>One of those days</title><content type='html'>It's been several months since my last post....long winter, not much to write about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All that changed today and I do need to give a warning...this is all potty humor....real serious potty humor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Imagine you had a pair of pants and there was a hole in the pocket. You kept putting coins in the pocket and it would run down your leg and on to the floor.....well, instead of a pocket it's a diaper and instead of a coin, it's shit!!! Yes, that is the scene Ben created today. Now, the stomach bug has been going through the house and Ben seems to have it the worst (poor little guy).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here I am playing with the boys upstairs and I guess I did not smell anything. After a while, all you can smell is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;doody&lt;/span&gt;. You can dunk my head in perfume and I still think I would just smell poo......Anyway I see Ben run in to my room and I notice the back of his pants are all wet. Now, my first reaction was, when did he sit in something wet, followed by be second reaction that happened 2 seconds after the first. That second reaction went &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;something&lt;/span&gt; like this, "Oh dear, oh no, oh yes....that is in fact crap running down his leg. By the time I go to him, it came out the pant leg. The best way to describe it is the scene in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Shawshank&lt;/span&gt; where he was dumping dirt down his leg in the yard while digging the tunnel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, I have just thrown out the rug in our bedroom, washed my hands for the 31st time today scratch my head in wonder. What will be next with the adventures of my two boys. The joy never ends....maybe one day I can actually take time to smell the rose....hopefully they do not smell like shit!!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5444338812694087814-4878073764749752856?l=diapersanddudes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diapersanddudes.blogspot.com/feeds/4878073764749752856/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5444338812694087814&amp;postID=4878073764749752856' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5444338812694087814/posts/default/4878073764749752856'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5444338812694087814/posts/default/4878073764749752856'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diapersanddudes.blogspot.com/2009/02/one-of-those-days.html' title='One of those days'/><author><name>AdamK</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03989986401299682690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5444338812694087814.post-4983169399551106832</id><published>2009-01-08T16:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-08T16:18:34.782-08:00</updated><title type='text'>It will not work</title><content type='html'>So, we have several friends who recently had babies. It must be something in the water. Due to all these babies, we decided to go on some visits and say hello to them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Many of these moms have decided to feed the babies &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;O'Natural&lt;/span&gt;. Mason thought nothing of it, never made a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;giggle&lt;/span&gt; and understood &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;what was&lt;/span&gt; going on......Oh no, is he growing up too fast? Will the little one liners &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;disappear&lt;/span&gt;? Have I lost the funny stories?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was really waiting to have Mason drop some crazy comment and nothing came.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That evening was bath time and as his is sitting in the tub, he points to his chest and states&lt;br /&gt;"This nipples does not work"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And there it was...thank you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5444338812694087814-4983169399551106832?l=diapersanddudes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diapersanddudes.blogspot.com/feeds/4983169399551106832/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5444338812694087814&amp;postID=4983169399551106832' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5444338812694087814/posts/default/4983169399551106832'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5444338812694087814/posts/default/4983169399551106832'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diapersanddudes.blogspot.com/2009/01/it-will-not-work.html' title='It will not work'/><author><name>AdamK</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03989986401299682690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5444338812694087814.post-5673457772772629163</id><published>2008-12-27T16:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-27T16:26:01.533-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Holidays</title><content type='html'>So I have not &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;written&lt;/span&gt; anything during this holiday. I need to give a few quick update stories during this festive time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the second night, Mason was allowed to open just one present. He opened it, looked at the DVD his uncle gave him and looked up at us and said, " The second night of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Hanukkah&lt;/span&gt; is boring".....We tried to explain what it meant to be grateful and he gave a smart-ass response. His mother decided to ask how he would feel if we did not give him any more presents and the howl of "That would be the WORST &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Hanukkah&lt;/span&gt; EVER" came ringing through the house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mason decided to tell us the story of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Hanukkah&lt;/span&gt;. He did a great job and told us about the Temple and how the oil was supposed to last for one night and on and on..... When that was over, he asked if we new the story of Christmas. He then decided to tell us the story of "How the Grinch stole Christmas" and that is the true story of Christmas.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5444338812694087814-5673457772772629163?l=diapersanddudes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diapersanddudes.blogspot.com/feeds/5673457772772629163/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5444338812694087814&amp;postID=5673457772772629163' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5444338812694087814/posts/default/5673457772772629163'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5444338812694087814/posts/default/5673457772772629163'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diapersanddudes.blogspot.com/2008/12/happy-holidays.html' title='Happy Holidays'/><author><name>AdamK</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03989986401299682690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5444338812694087814.post-1749263368635620496</id><published>2008-12-06T08:16:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-06T08:17:22.991-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The English are Coming</title><content type='html'>Here is a quote from Mason.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Corn Muffins are made from corn.&lt;br /&gt;English Muffins are made from English.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have no comment.......&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5444338812694087814-1749263368635620496?l=diapersanddudes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diapersanddudes.blogspot.com/feeds/1749263368635620496/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5444338812694087814&amp;postID=1749263368635620496' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5444338812694087814/posts/default/1749263368635620496'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5444338812694087814/posts/default/1749263368635620496'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diapersanddudes.blogspot.com/2008/12/english-are-coming.html' title='The English are Coming'/><author><name>AdamK</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03989986401299682690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5444338812694087814.post-3886041504878227233</id><published>2008-12-03T16:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-03T16:18:05.919-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tis the Season</title><content type='html'>Let me start by telling you that according to Mason, there are two types of people in this world, Jewish people and Christmas people. Now since we fall in to the first group, Mason understands that we do not get presents from Santa. This never created a crying fit, he never threw himself on the floor wanted toys from Santa. Everything was fine because he knew who brought presents to the Jewish boys and girls.......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A giant Jewish robot named &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Hanukatron&lt;/span&gt;. That's right Santa, you have your one night of delivering presents, just try to keep up with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Hanukatron&lt;/span&gt; who travels for 8 nights.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This concept started last year and we laughed about it during the holiday season. What makes this really funny is that Mason brought it up again this year. He has now told his friends in preschool about &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Hanukatron&lt;/span&gt;. He has told his teachers about the robot ( I can not wait until Parent/Teacher night).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Hanukatron&lt;/span&gt; has evolved, he is now equal parts holiday robot and super hero who carries a sword and shield to fight bad guys when he is not bringing presents to all the Jewish boys and girls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really hope this continues and Ben buys in to this as well. It will become my families version of Festivus.......amen&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5444338812694087814-3886041504878227233?l=diapersanddudes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diapersanddudes.blogspot.com/feeds/3886041504878227233/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5444338812694087814&amp;postID=3886041504878227233' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5444338812694087814/posts/default/3886041504878227233'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5444338812694087814/posts/default/3886041504878227233'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diapersanddudes.blogspot.com/2008/12/tis-season.html' title='Tis the Season'/><author><name>AdamK</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03989986401299682690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5444338812694087814.post-8247639936349395762</id><published>2008-11-17T16:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-17T17:04:42.405-08:00</updated><title type='text'>He Can Spell</title><content type='html'>So, I have written here several times about Mason's joy of bathroom humor, so it is no surprise that certain words are used more often in the house. One of the fan favorites is the use of "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;doody&lt;/span&gt;".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It has come to a point where it is said far too often in and out of the house. The first attempt to stop the use was to tell Mason he should only use it if he has to make one, but that resulted in him telling me all the time....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The second attempt was telling him that was a bathroom word and that resulted in Mason always running in to the bathroom to yell the word "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;doody&lt;/span&gt;".....This is when I realized that my 4.5 year old can be a wise-ass.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which leads me to the latest event.......Mason randomly said the word and I just looked at him and told him that it was not a good word to say. He looks back at me and tells me he is not saying "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Doody&lt;/span&gt;,  but rather "Duty" (stressing the letter T) Oh joy!!!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next  I am waiting for some "That's what she said" jokes.............&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5444338812694087814-8247639936349395762?l=diapersanddudes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diapersanddudes.blogspot.com/feeds/8247639936349395762/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5444338812694087814&amp;postID=8247639936349395762' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5444338812694087814/posts/default/8247639936349395762'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5444338812694087814/posts/default/8247639936349395762'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diapersanddudes.blogspot.com/2008/11/he-can-spell.html' title='He Can Spell'/><author><name>AdamK</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03989986401299682690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5444338812694087814.post-2970837611304415260</id><published>2008-11-16T08:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-16T08:44:34.917-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Like father like Son</title><content type='html'>What is worse then &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;having&lt;/span&gt; a stomach bug?????&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your one year old having a stomach bug.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Nuff&lt;/span&gt; Said.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5444338812694087814-2970837611304415260?l=diapersanddudes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diapersanddudes.blogspot.com/feeds/2970837611304415260/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5444338812694087814&amp;postID=2970837611304415260' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5444338812694087814/posts/default/2970837611304415260'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5444338812694087814/posts/default/2970837611304415260'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diapersanddudes.blogspot.com/2008/11/like-father-like-son.html' title='Like father like Son'/><author><name>AdamK</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03989986401299682690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5444338812694087814.post-7657153158485767225</id><published>2008-11-06T16:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-06T16:41:06.768-08:00</updated><title type='text'>You May Not Enter</title><content type='html'>I am in the car and Mason is sitting in the back seat. Then out of nowhere he tells me that we need to get a cover for our chimney....&lt;br /&gt;I am puzzled at this statement and ask him why we need the cover. His response:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Daddy, because we are Jewish and we do not want Santa Claus to come in to our house."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I see a commercial from Brinks security coming soon.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5444338812694087814-7657153158485767225?l=diapersanddudes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diapersanddudes.blogspot.com/feeds/7657153158485767225/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5444338812694087814&amp;postID=7657153158485767225' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5444338812694087814/posts/default/7657153158485767225'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5444338812694087814/posts/default/7657153158485767225'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diapersanddudes.blogspot.com/2008/11/you-may-not-enter.html' title='You May Not Enter'/><author><name>AdamK</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03989986401299682690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5444338812694087814.post-2861333408630445877</id><published>2008-11-02T14:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-02T14:02:35.485-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Two is Better then One</title><content type='html'>This morning, I was folding the laundry and Mason was helping me. When we got to some of Beth's clothes, he pulled out a bra of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Beth's&lt;/span&gt;. He held it up and told me that this was mommy's extra boobies........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That made me think, is a jockstrap and extra penis?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5444338812694087814-2861333408630445877?l=diapersanddudes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diapersanddudes.blogspot.com/feeds/2861333408630445877/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5444338812694087814&amp;postID=2861333408630445877' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5444338812694087814/posts/default/2861333408630445877'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5444338812694087814/posts/default/2861333408630445877'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diapersanddudes.blogspot.com/2008/11/two-is-better-then-one.html' title='Two is Better then One'/><author><name>AdamK</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03989986401299682690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5444338812694087814.post-3307744494959912493</id><published>2008-10-18T17:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-18T17:28:27.563-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Lock up the women</title><content type='html'>I had one of those moments this evening.&lt;br /&gt;We went to one of Mason's classmates house for dinner tonight. To protect the names of the innocent, we will refer to is classmate as "Girl #1". Girl #1 is also 4 and she has a sister who is in first grade. These are two of the most wonderful little girls....sweet, polite and funny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had a great dinner and everyone behaved wonderfully. The plates were cleared, the adults talked and the kids played. All was good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Off of the kitchen was a little &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;sun room&lt;/span&gt; where Mason and Girl #1 were playing. I just did a quick peek in and saw them both sitting in a big chair. Now it is hard to describe the look at both &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;their&lt;/span&gt; faces, but I could tell something was up, like they were caught with their hands in the cookie jar. "What are you two up to?", I asked. The response from my Mason was a quick "nothing". This immediately means he did something and there is no way he wants me to know about it. When he is a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;teenager&lt;/span&gt;, I know this will morph in to "Just leave me alone &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt;. Jeez, can't I have some space." But, until that time, I will live with "nothing"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I asked a second time, Girl #1 said, "Mason let's just show him". My first thought to this sentence was "Oh crap, what am I going to see?" Then Girl #1 leaned in and kisses Mason on the lips and I do not mean that little peck you see to kids give each other. I quickly told them that maybe they should stop doing that and tried not to have one of those freak out moments. This was quickly followed by them telling me that Girl #1's sister told them to do it......&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Oh&lt;/span&gt; good, that makes this situation better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I immediately went back in to the kitchen, prepared to ignore that moment and then Girl #1 comes in and yells "Mommy, Mason and I were kissing on the lips" Where was I when she said this? Right next to her dad....he was washing one of the knives from dinner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The kids went back in to the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;sun room&lt;/span&gt; and her mom and I went in after them, to see them try to kiss again. This time her mom jumped in....I'm not sure why, but I was getting so uncomfortable. I thought it was the father of the daughter that would have this moment, but I guess being the guest in the house and bringing in my boy to their area was causing this affect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now of course I know this was an innocent event and no harm was caused, but there was one of those moments. It was that moment in time, standing next to the father while he hears that his daughter was kissing a boy.....Years from now, when the hormones are in full forces, I hope they forget this night and invite us over again...the food was really good.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5444338812694087814-3307744494959912493?l=diapersanddudes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diapersanddudes.blogspot.com/feeds/3307744494959912493/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5444338812694087814&amp;postID=3307744494959912493' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5444338812694087814/posts/default/3307744494959912493'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5444338812694087814/posts/default/3307744494959912493'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diapersanddudes.blogspot.com/2008/10/lock-up-women.html' title='Lock up the women'/><author><name>AdamK</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03989986401299682690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5444338812694087814.post-8208479323057637804</id><published>2008-10-15T16:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-15T16:20:20.782-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Eat Your Veggies</title><content type='html'>I have uncovered one of the great mysteries....How do you get kids to eat all their veggies. For generations, parents have been struggling with their children to eat all their veggies or even try a new food. With most kids, they will fight you and find any reason to not eat the food.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At times, Mason has told me he does not like the color green or that a certain veggie made him sad (what that meant, I have no idea).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was not until tonight that I came to the solution and all it took was the maturity level of a child. It just so happens we are talking about my maturity level.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just repeat after me "Beans, beans good for your heart. The more you eat the more you fart"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, within this little saying is the key to all the food problems. Mason did not want to try black beans, but then I reached down low and pulled out the saying. To Mason's delight, if he ate this food, he might get to fart!!!! So, why not tell kids that all that food that is good for you also allows you to break wind.... No harm, no foul. Unless of course your child really does start to let them rip and then they will just have to learn to play by themselves.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Note: This &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;theory&lt;/span&gt; may only work with boys.....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5444338812694087814-8208479323057637804?l=diapersanddudes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diapersanddudes.blogspot.com/feeds/8208479323057637804/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5444338812694087814&amp;postID=8208479323057637804' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5444338812694087814/posts/default/8208479323057637804'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5444338812694087814/posts/default/8208479323057637804'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diapersanddudes.blogspot.com/2008/10/eat-your-veggies.html' title='Eat Your Veggies'/><author><name>AdamK</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03989986401299682690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5444338812694087814.post-8299910437981845860</id><published>2008-10-14T16:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-14T16:32:04.037-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I Scream, You Scream, We all Scream</title><content type='html'>When Mason was a baby, he would cry and it would never really get to me. He would cry in the car and I could just block it out, he would cry at night and I could just tune it out...all was good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When Ben was born, I assumed this would be true...I mean, I handled the crying of Mason, how much different could it be?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm here to say................A HELL OF LOT DIFFERENT!!!!!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I am driving and Ben is crying, I can not tune it out, I am thinking about driving off the road. When Ben is crying at night, I am wondering if I could &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;suffocate&lt;/span&gt; myself with the pillow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are several levels to the Ben cry. There is the simple whine that I can handle, but it's there, haunting me.&lt;br /&gt;There is the next level where I my shoulders start to tense up quickly followed by my shoulders becoming really tense and all of a sudden I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;realize&lt;/span&gt; that my shoulders are touching my ears.&lt;br /&gt;Then there is the final level where I start thinking about stabbing my inner ear with a pencil.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As you can tell, the crying is just awful. It's primal, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;aggressive&lt;/span&gt; and angry. He's is the sweetest baby, who laughs &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;out loud&lt;/span&gt;, but when he does cry....oh man, it is just painful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So to all those parents out there that live by " If it's not your child crying, it's not that bad" I call Bullshit!!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5444338812694087814-8299910437981845860?l=diapersanddudes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diapersanddudes.blogspot.com/feeds/8299910437981845860/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5444338812694087814&amp;postID=8299910437981845860' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5444338812694087814/posts/default/8299910437981845860'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5444338812694087814/posts/default/8299910437981845860'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diapersanddudes.blogspot.com/2008/10/i-scream-you-scream-we-all-scream.html' title='I Scream, You Scream, We all Scream'/><author><name>AdamK</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03989986401299682690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5444338812694087814.post-6682784143133217025</id><published>2008-10-04T17:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-04T17:15:00.545-07:00</updated><title type='text'>One</title><content type='html'>I have a new scientific theory.....The size of the child is inversely &lt;span style="BACKGROUND-COLOR: #ffff00"&gt;related  &lt;/span&gt;to the amount of room they need in a bed. Let's take a step back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Beth and I have one rule that we have done really well with so far with both of the boys and that is....no kids sleeping in our bed. Well, sometimes these rules need to be bent. One example was last night/this morning when Ben woke up at midnight and decided to scream until 4:00am (yes you just read that correctly) We tried everything and finally Beth just brought him in to the bed. (note: if I suggested that as a solution, I'm pretty sure Beth would have bitten my head off...literally).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, as soon as he was between us, he immediately relaxed and went back to sleep. He also started taking a serious angle in the bed. Beth seemed to have the same amount of space, maybe a little more and I was slowly getting squeezed off the bed. I was able to fall asleep at one point, only to wake up with half my ass hanging off the bed. I adjusted my position and was able to get another two hours of sleep. Was it peaceful? Well, I woke up with my head on the nightstand. I was literally pushed off the bed. I have had a bad back and neck all day and it is due to a child who comes up to my kneecap, needing all the space in the bed.....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5444338812694087814-6682784143133217025?l=diapersanddudes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diapersanddudes.blogspot.com/feeds/6682784143133217025/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5444338812694087814&amp;postID=6682784143133217025' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5444338812694087814/posts/default/6682784143133217025'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5444338812694087814/posts/default/6682784143133217025'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diapersanddudes.blogspot.com/2008/10/one.html' title='One'/><author><name>AdamK</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03989986401299682690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5444338812694087814.post-923372398302560598</id><published>2008-09-18T16:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-18T16:37:52.269-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Let's Compare</title><content type='html'>I have a few friends that do not have children, but they do have dogs.&lt;br /&gt;Now, I have grown up with dogs, I love dogs and I plan on getting a dog once the boys are old enough to help out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saying all of this I need to bring up a point that was hammered home recently when someone I know started comparing their dog to a child or more specifically a baby. Is a dog part of the family? Yes. Do we baby our dogs? Yes. However, please stop comparing them to an actual baby.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dogs to not wear diapers.&lt;br /&gt;I have never seen anyone wipe a dog's ass after it took a dump. (Note, if you do see someone doing this, please let me know right away so I may laugh at them)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sure you have to "baby proof" the house for both. You talk like an idiot to both a baby and a puppy, but please stop telling me they are like the same responsibility.......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This brings me to a new &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;tv&lt;/span&gt; show. One couple has a puppy and another couple has a baby. The switch for 1 week and we get to watch the high comedy that takes place. We'll call it "Poop&amp;amp;Pup"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5444338812694087814-923372398302560598?l=diapersanddudes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diapersanddudes.blogspot.com/feeds/923372398302560598/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5444338812694087814&amp;postID=923372398302560598' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5444338812694087814/posts/default/923372398302560598'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5444338812694087814/posts/default/923372398302560598'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diapersanddudes.blogspot.com/2008/09/lets-compare.html' title='Let&apos;s Compare'/><author><name>AdamK</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03989986401299682690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5444338812694087814.post-4681804970863287901</id><published>2008-09-13T04:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-13T04:53:52.024-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The alarm clock?</title><content type='html'>I have written several times about Ben waking up early and me seeing the sunrise.&lt;br /&gt;Needless to say, I have not used my alarm clock in close to one year.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, this particular morning, Ben woke up very early and Beth was kind enough to get up with him (it was actually her turn). On this morning, he was so tired, Beth decided to put him back in his crib which was an amazing move since he fell back to sleep. Now, all of these events took place before 5:30am&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Were we going to sleep late? Could this actually happen?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There I am...asleep...dreaming.......Then I am woken to this, "Daddy, I'm going to make a doody".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who needs an alarm clock.................&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5444338812694087814-4681804970863287901?l=diapersanddudes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diapersanddudes.blogspot.com/feeds/4681804970863287901/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5444338812694087814&amp;postID=4681804970863287901' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5444338812694087814/posts/default/4681804970863287901'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5444338812694087814/posts/default/4681804970863287901'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diapersanddudes.blogspot.com/2008/09/alarm-clock.html' title='The alarm clock?'/><author><name>AdamK</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03989986401299682690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5444338812694087814.post-7656484863661734487</id><published>2008-09-11T17:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-11T17:09:41.111-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hi Neighbor</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Here&lt;/span&gt; are my observations of the neighborhood when I get up in the morning with Benjamin....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh wait., that at 4:30am and IT'S STILL DARK OUTSIDE!! I CAN NOT SEE ANYTHING IN THE NEIGHBORHOOD!!!!!!!!!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5444338812694087814-7656484863661734487?l=diapersanddudes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diapersanddudes.blogspot.com/feeds/7656484863661734487/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5444338812694087814&amp;postID=7656484863661734487' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5444338812694087814/posts/default/7656484863661734487'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5444338812694087814/posts/default/7656484863661734487'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diapersanddudes.blogspot.com/2008/09/hi-neighbor.html' title='Hi Neighbor'/><author><name>AdamK</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03989986401299682690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5444338812694087814.post-9014065926885902377</id><published>2008-09-10T17:22:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-10T17:40:59.685-07:00</updated><title type='text'>You're Out</title><content type='html'>I did not grow up playing a lot of baseball. It was just not the sport I played as a kid and as I got older I did not even follow the pro team. I was a football fan and the Eagles were my team. The &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Phillies&lt;/span&gt; were just the hometown team, but I never really knew all the players.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now that I live in Boston, this city kind of makes you a baseball fan. Just go to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Fenway&lt;/span&gt; and you are hooked. I've written about taking Mason to his first game and now he loves to play baseball in the back yard. We switch between being the batter and the pitcher all day long. Here are a few reasons why playing baseball with your young child is the best.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you are the pitcher, you are ALWAYS Dice-K.&lt;br /&gt;You can get a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;homerun&lt;/span&gt; by hitting a bunt.&lt;br /&gt;The baseball diamond is really a hexagon and the distance between first base and second base is three steps, but the distance between second and third is the length of the whole yard.&lt;br /&gt;When you are Ortiz, you have to spit in your hands.&lt;br /&gt;When you are &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Youk&lt;/span&gt;, you have to hold the bat funny.&lt;br /&gt;Every time you are &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Tek&lt;/span&gt;, the other person has to say they love &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Tek&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;Manny is a Dodger, but when he's in the back yard, he's still a Red &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Sox&lt;/span&gt; (and he still tries)&lt;br /&gt;The rules change pitch by pitch.&lt;br /&gt;One minute the score is 5 to 3 and after I strike out, the score is 15 to 1.&lt;br /&gt;If you have to go pee while running to third base, just stop and pee on the grass.&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes the pitcher and the batter are on the same team.&lt;br /&gt;You can play barefoot.&lt;br /&gt;If someone brings up the Yankees, you have to say that the Yankees are "stinky" or "Boo Yankees"&lt;br /&gt;Playing in the backyard must always be FUN.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Laughing is part of the rules.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I try not to get sappy when I write this stuff, but today, while playing baseball in the backyard, I realize that this is one of those amazing moments. I can look back on these memories and find the true joy in being a dad. Playing baseball with your son on a cool, day towards the end of summer, the sun low in the sky, the breeze slightly blowing.........yeah this day kicks ass.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5444338812694087814-9014065926885902377?l=diapersanddudes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diapersanddudes.blogspot.com/feeds/9014065926885902377/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5444338812694087814&amp;postID=9014065926885902377' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5444338812694087814/posts/default/9014065926885902377'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5444338812694087814/posts/default/9014065926885902377'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diapersanddudes.blogspot.com/2008/09/youre-out.html' title='You&apos;re Out'/><author><name>AdamK</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03989986401299682690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5444338812694087814.post-2797627301775010131</id><published>2008-09-05T17:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-06T08:13:03.745-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What time is it?</title><content type='html'>Mason has a fever.....Poor little guy. He makes a face when he is sick that is very close to pathetic, but not quite. It's probably closer to just sad, but I feel so sorry for him when he is sick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm getting a head of myself. You see today started at 3:58am when Ben woke up screaming. I can not understand why my son enjoys waking up this early or why he enjoys making me so damn tired that I fall asleep when I brush my teeth. Beth and I have decided that he just needs to cry it out when he wakes up the early, so that is what he did......for a half hour.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, it's not 4:30am and he goes back to sleep, but to my excitement and joy, Mason decided to wake up a few minutes after Ben. Now, when Mason wakes up, he moves as silent as a ninja. I never hear him and the next thing you know, he is just standing in our room, hovering over you. It actually scares the crap of of me. The scene is right out of a freaky horror flick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, we put him to bed and we get some extra sleep, until Mason comes back in to the room. He does this several times, until we just give in and let him climb in to bed. Mason does not lay down calmly. He moves around like a fish flapping on the ground. It's rather difficult to go back to sleep.....then the question comes. "Can I watch tv?" At this point it is 5:50am. My response is that he can watch the tv at 6:00am......."Daddy, it's now 5-5-1....daddy, it's now 5-5-2...daddy, it's now 5-5-3." You get the point..........Please make this stop, make the pain go away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When all is said and down, I fall back asleep and awaken to the sound of the Doddle-Bops coming form the tv. This is pure evil. If you do not know what the Doodle-Bops are, then consider yourself blessed......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ben wakes up, Mason still has a mild fever and the day begins. I just wish the day would begin after the sun rises.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5444338812694087814-2797627301775010131?l=diapersanddudes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diapersanddudes.blogspot.com/feeds/2797627301775010131/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5444338812694087814&amp;postID=2797627301775010131' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5444338812694087814/posts/default/2797627301775010131'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5444338812694087814/posts/default/2797627301775010131'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diapersanddudes.blogspot.com/2008/09/what-time-is-it.html' title='What time is it?'/><author><name>AdamK</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03989986401299682690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5444338812694087814.post-6283749765551314794</id><published>2008-09-02T17:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-02T17:13:38.713-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Scraps is a boy dog</title><content type='html'>When I come home from work, I always ask Mason how his day was and sometimes I get a really good story (most of the time Mommy has to fill in the blanks). Today was one of those days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, Mommy was driving the kids home when they came across someone walking their dog. This was not ordinary, run of the mill dog, but a giant Great Dane. I guess Beth was not driving fast and Mason got a good look at this giant dog. As Beth tells the story, it was easy to tell this was boy dog and I guess Mason noticed this fact too. From the back seat comes this observation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Mommy, that dog has a huge bone hanging off his butt"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that is the real reason they sniff each other.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5444338812694087814-6283749765551314794?l=diapersanddudes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diapersanddudes.blogspot.com/feeds/6283749765551314794/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5444338812694087814&amp;postID=6283749765551314794' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5444338812694087814/posts/default/6283749765551314794'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5444338812694087814/posts/default/6283749765551314794'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diapersanddudes.blogspot.com/2008/09/scraps-is-boy-dog.html' title='Scraps is a boy dog'/><author><name>AdamK</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03989986401299682690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5444338812694087814.post-4913834972491241025</id><published>2008-08-28T05:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-28T05:06:16.827-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Eat your greens</title><content type='html'>Last night Ben at spinach.&lt;br /&gt;This morning, he shat a casserole&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5444338812694087814-4913834972491241025?l=diapersanddudes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diapersanddudes.blogspot.com/feeds/4913834972491241025/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5444338812694087814&amp;postID=4913834972491241025' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5444338812694087814/posts/default/4913834972491241025'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5444338812694087814/posts/default/4913834972491241025'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diapersanddudes.blogspot.com/2008/08/eat-your-greens.html' title='Eat your greens'/><author><name>AdamK</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03989986401299682690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5444338812694087814.post-2654153495059388727</id><published>2008-08-25T17:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-25T17:09:44.328-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Thud!!</title><content type='html'>Recently we took off the rail that was on Mason's bed. He sleeps in a "big boy" bed, but he had a rail that you slide under the mattress to make sure he does not fall out. We decided it was time because he recently slept at his cousin's house in a normal bed and did not fall out for two nights in a row.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, the first night in his own bed was fine, then the second night was fine.....the third night I hear the thud......I walk in to his room and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;there&lt;/span&gt; he is on the floor. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt;, fine, he fell out. No big deal.  The next night, he was fine. Guess what happened next? Did he fall out of bed? He fell out of bed two times in one night. The second time, I'm pretty sure he fell asleep on the floor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was not going to put that bar back on the bed, but I did not want to have an injured son. So, since that night, I have pulled out the trundle from under his bed and I have used it as his safety net. If he does fall out, at least he will land on another mattress. Of course, he has not fallen out since &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;the&lt;/span&gt; trundle experiment has begun. You know that the first night I do not pull it out will be the night he falls out again....What to do, what to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some nights I wish that trundle was really a trampoline.......&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5444338812694087814-2654153495059388727?l=diapersanddudes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diapersanddudes.blogspot.com/feeds/2654153495059388727/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5444338812694087814&amp;postID=2654153495059388727' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5444338812694087814/posts/default/2654153495059388727'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5444338812694087814/posts/default/2654153495059388727'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diapersanddudes.blogspot.com/2008/08/thud.html' title='Thud!!'/><author><name>AdamK</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03989986401299682690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5444338812694087814.post-1150938484429140712</id><published>2008-08-24T18:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-24T18:26:19.392-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee</title><content type='html'>When my family has gone to visit the extended &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;family&lt;/span&gt; in Philadelphia, Mason gets very excited...Is it to see his &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;grammie&lt;/span&gt; or his cousin Max? Maybe, I'm sure that is part of it but if you were to ask Mason why he liked going to Philly so much, he would tell you that cousin Max has the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Wii&lt;/span&gt;......The joy my son has for all things video game related is rather amazing. He has fully grasped the home PC and the wonders of the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;internet&lt;/span&gt;......I'm just waiting for him to ask me what the word "porn" means.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back to the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Wii&lt;/span&gt;. Recently my mother was up visiting and suggested that she wanted to buy Mason a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Wii&lt;/span&gt; for the holidays. Both Beth and I are concerned about this since we might never see &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Mason&lt;/span&gt; again and he will spend all waking moments in front of the TV, playing &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Wii&lt;/span&gt; . On the other had....the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Wii&lt;/span&gt; is so darn cool. I love playing it just as much as Mason.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, we told Mason that he may get the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Wii&lt;/span&gt;, but on one condition....no more peeing in his pants. He went through a time where he was peeing in his pants a little too often for us. He agreed and has been VERY careful to run to the bathroom any time he has to pee, until this morning ( queue the music of dread)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After breakfast this morning, Mason told Beth that he peed in his pajamas. In a very calm voice, Beth asked Mason what that meant. His reply was that he was not going to get the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Wii&lt;/span&gt;. I can not explain in words the face and tone of his voice....despair, sorrow, gut wrenching pain? These all come close, but do not capture the moment. I went upstairs to talk to him. Did I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;mention&lt;/span&gt; that he needed to go to his room to relax and regroup?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I casually asked him why he peed in his pants? Did he know he had to go? I was not prepared for what was said. I have not read any parent type books to prepare me for the words and the face.&lt;br /&gt;Mason said with the most pathetic face and the saddest voice, "Sometime my brain is not smart enough. I am not smart sometimes." &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt;, I can joke that I have the emotions of a robot sometimes, but my heart sank. It sank all the way to the bottom of my feet. I wanted to hug my child and go out and buy him a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;Wii&lt;/span&gt; right then and there. I was ready to just give him my credit card and tell him to enjoy the day. Now, he is either the greatest child actor the world has ever seen or he really meant what he said, which makes it so hard to take.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I quickly went down stairs and told Beth and we decided to give our sad little boy a mulligan. This goes against everything I have done up to now. Every threat I have ever uttered, I have carried through on and this was the first time I ever went back on my word....you pee in your pants and no &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;Wii&lt;/span&gt;.....but &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;ahh&lt;/span&gt; not true...this time. We gave him one more chance and hopefully he makes it this time.....for all of us.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5444338812694087814-1150938484429140712?l=diapersanddudes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diapersanddudes.blogspot.com/feeds/1150938484429140712/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5444338812694087814&amp;postID=1150938484429140712' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5444338812694087814/posts/default/1150938484429140712'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5444338812694087814/posts/default/1150938484429140712'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diapersanddudes.blogspot.com/2008/08/weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.html' title='Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee'/><author><name>AdamK</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03989986401299682690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5444338812694087814.post-985038476621328815</id><published>2008-08-19T16:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-19T17:06:53.331-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A boy's bestfriend</title><content type='html'>So, I am the dad and I should know this already...after years of personal experience, I should really know this. Not just as a father, but as a man of the human race, I should know this....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me take a step back and ask this question. What sentence do I utter more then any other to Mason (I will also say the same one to Ben)?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Give up? The answer is "Get you hands out of your pants." Now I am a guy and I understand the importance of this issue and the remote control comes in a close second for what is usually in my hand, but I truly believe my 4 year old has taken this sport to a whole new level. Since it's the Olympics, I believe Mason would be a gold medal champion in the sort of penis grabbing. He would score high points in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;originality&lt;/span&gt;. The boy does not just go from the waistband, but he comes up from the pant leg...now that takes &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;concentration!!!!! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;It's not just the hand down the pants, it's the pulling, grabbing, pinching, poking, prodding, twisting that he does all day long. If this were a taffy pull, my son would have the largest penis in the region. As a man, I wince in pain when I give him a bath. He goes in to the zone and does not even know where his hands are or what they are doing.  "Mason, stop pulling it" There is another common sentence that I have to say.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Now I know this is normal and this act will certainly not go away, but my goodness it's not Silly Putty. To quote my grandfather (who Mason is named after) "Leave it alone, it will grow by itself."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5444338812694087814-985038476621328815?l=diapersanddudes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diapersanddudes.blogspot.com/feeds/985038476621328815/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5444338812694087814&amp;postID=985038476621328815' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5444338812694087814/posts/default/985038476621328815'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5444338812694087814/posts/default/985038476621328815'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diapersanddudes.blogspot.com/2008/08/boys-bestfriend.html' title='A boy&apos;s bestfriend'/><author><name>AdamK</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03989986401299682690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5444338812694087814.post-8131669303915749236</id><published>2008-08-18T18:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-18T18:39:07.125-07:00</updated><title type='text'>2 Vs 4</title><content type='html'>Even people who do not have kids know the saying "the Terrible Two's". Before Mason even turned 2, I was ready to deal with a maniac...tantrums, fits, flailing on the floor....The the age of 2 came and non of that was really there. The occasional fit or cry, but nothing that should have a scary phrase like "The Terrible Two's". Wow, this is great, I have an "easy" child. The age of 3 arrived and still, no major fits, no crazy kid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hello age 4 and f*ck you!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Out of no where, the pod people or the crazy pod people or the psycho pod people have taken over my son. I'm not sure I can truly explain what it is like or if I can give and example that does all this justice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From time to time, Mason asks if he can play on the computer and play on Noggin.com or Disney.com. This should not be a big deal and every time he goes on, we begin with the understanding that when I say it is time to get off, then he will get off. I even have him repeat the rule to me, so I know he understands.  Then it happens...."Mason, time to get off the computer", I say in a nice calm voice. The response:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Noooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo&lt;/span&gt;. No no no no no no....Awwwwwwww.......ahhhhhhhhhhh...waaaaaaaaa..........grrrrrrrrr...blahhhhhhhh"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who are you and what have you done to my son? There is no calming him down. I could offer him a huge ice cream &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;sundae&lt;/span&gt; or a visit by the Wiggles and he just keeps freaking out. I thought by having two boys, I would not have a house that was filled with PMS.......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Mason, stop jumping on the bed". Response: "Daddy, that is the meanest thing you have ever said."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Mason, it's time to take a shower". Response: "You can't tell me what to do."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Mason, want to go to Disney World?" Response: "How can you be so mean to me, I want new parents, ones who know how I really feel, know the inner me and can understand where I am in my life and how to really get at the root of what drives me as a human being. Someone who can discuss  Post Modern Art with me, so do not come to me with an offer of Disney World, a place that preaches &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;conformity&lt;/span&gt; to the youth of America"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(So I made that last one up, but you now get the idea of what it is like.) So there is no "Terrible Two's", but I say there is the "F*ck You Fours"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Best part is.....I get to do this again with Ben....bring it on..........&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5444338812694087814-8131669303915749236?l=diapersanddudes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diapersanddudes.blogspot.com/feeds/8131669303915749236/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5444338812694087814&amp;postID=8131669303915749236' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5444338812694087814/posts/default/8131669303915749236'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5444338812694087814/posts/default/8131669303915749236'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diapersanddudes.blogspot.com/2008/08/2-vs-4.html' title='2 Vs 4'/><author><name>AdamK</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03989986401299682690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5444338812694087814.post-12647976617887715</id><published>2008-08-17T06:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-17T06:22:11.633-07:00</updated><title type='text'>POS</title><content type='html'>So, Mason saw an ad for a Toyota and here is what he said.&lt;br /&gt;"We have a Toyota(we do), but daddy has a dopey car".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I drive a reliable 200 Honda Civic. It gets me from point A to point B and that's about the extent of it's features. At the age of 4, this car has been a constant source of humor for my son. A few weekends ago, I had to drive Mason to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;PopPops&lt;/span&gt; house which is 30 minutes away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Normally, we take mommy's car, the nice care. On these drives the request for "his music" comes from the back seat. This means that I have to slide some kids music in to the CD player and listen to it for 30 minutes. You play that stuff to prisoners for 30 minutes and they'll tell you anything you want. On a side note I do enjoy some of Mason's music, but not over and over again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On this particular trip, we were driving my "dopey car". For the first 20 minutes, he kept asking for his music....oh did I mention there is no CD player.....We were going  through all the stations until I hear from the back seat, "Daddy, you really need to get a CD player"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What the hell!!!!! I do not need to take this from a 4 year old!!!! He does not even know how to ride a two wheel bike yet, let alone drive a car.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Years from now, he will be that kid who asks to be dropped off three blocks form his friends house so no one sees the car I am driving.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What my wonderful 4 year old does not realize is that I will do everything in my power to save this 200 Civic and for his 16&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; birthday surprise him with the keys.....Who's driving the dopey car now?????&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5444338812694087814-12647976617887715?l=diapersanddudes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diapersanddudes.blogspot.com/feeds/12647976617887715/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5444338812694087814&amp;postID=12647976617887715' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5444338812694087814/posts/default/12647976617887715'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5444338812694087814/posts/default/12647976617887715'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diapersanddudes.blogspot.com/2008/08/pos.html' title='POS'/><author><name>AdamK</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03989986401299682690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5444338812694087814.post-3787877779742390087</id><published>2008-08-16T06:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-16T06:22:11.548-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Cinderfella</title><content type='html'>Have I mentioned that I have &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;wonderful&lt;/span&gt; neighbors? They have two little girls very close to the ages of Mason and Ben. Elle, the one close to age with Mason, loves playing with him. This is a great break for all the parents, as they play in the yard and we adults can share stories. After yesterday, the playing might have to end........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mason was playing inside their house and I thought I would go check on him and bring him home since it was getting close to dinner time. I was told that they were playing upstairs and as I started to walk up the stairs, the two of them emerged from Elle's room. Mason was putting on a lovely Cinderella dress and said, "Daddy, can you help me put this on?" Have I mentioned that he already had a very nice necklace around his neck. Elle was dressed as Sleeping Beauty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, as a father, what do you do at this point? I decided to turn around and walk back down the stairs. What did my neighbors decide to do??????? Oh, they got the camera....and the video camera. I went for the tequila.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I grew up with brothers, no sisters, so this concept of dress up is foreign to me. What is the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;equivalent&lt;/span&gt; situation a father of all girls would have? It's certainly not his little girls &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;wearing&lt;/span&gt; a football outfit. Maybe it's when his daughter tells him she is on the pill. Let me explain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's not so much the dress my son is wearing, but the direction of my imagination. When a father finds out his daughter is on the pill, he might begin that thought process of what the pill means and what comes after the pill......terror for a dad.&lt;br /&gt;For me the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;imagination&lt;/span&gt; of Mason wearing a dress goes down the path of, will he be in a cabaret show or the lead in The &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Bird Cage&lt;/span&gt;2?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or is it more troubling that Mason has such lovely legs that he pulled off the skirt........&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5444338812694087814-3787877779742390087?l=diapersanddudes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diapersanddudes.blogspot.com/feeds/3787877779742390087/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5444338812694087814&amp;postID=3787877779742390087' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5444338812694087814/posts/default/3787877779742390087'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5444338812694087814/posts/default/3787877779742390087'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diapersanddudes.blogspot.com/2008/08/cinderfella.html' title='Cinderfella'/><author><name>AdamK</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03989986401299682690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5444338812694087814.post-3660406489640882622</id><published>2008-08-09T16:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-09T16:42:27.840-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Toys toys everywhere</title><content type='html'>Pop quiz.....you put a nine month old in a room filled with all kinds of toys. The room will be filled stuffed animals, noise makers, and so many more (thanks grandparents). So, with a room filled with toys, which one will the boy go for?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Give up? The answer is the light socket.....&lt;br /&gt;Yes, with so many toys to play with, Ben apparently loves to play with everything that is off limits. Light sockets, stools that can tip over, wires. Hey Ben, would you like to play with the stove or the knife set????&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How do little children know to go after all the dangerous items and why has a toy company not picked up on this???Hasbro should have a toy that looks like an electrical outlet,&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;every&lt;/span&gt; nine month old would like to play with it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today Ben thought the trash bin from his brother's room was the best looking toy in the whole place. Why??? What is it about the trash bin, the smell?&lt;br /&gt;"Hmmmm, the bin must smell like the stuff in my diaper, let's go and play with that......."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5444338812694087814-3660406489640882622?l=diapersanddudes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diapersanddudes.blogspot.com/feeds/3660406489640882622/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5444338812694087814&amp;postID=3660406489640882622' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5444338812694087814/posts/default/3660406489640882622'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5444338812694087814/posts/default/3660406489640882622'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diapersanddudes.blogspot.com/2008/08/toys-toys-everywhere.html' title='Toys toys everywhere'/><author><name>AdamK</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03989986401299682690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5444338812694087814.post-4452465103070922283</id><published>2008-08-05T16:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-05T17:17:58.055-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Filler Up</title><content type='html'>My younger son Ben had his 9 month check up today and I got to take him. One question that I was asked was, "Is he going regularly?", to which I replied, "Oh, yes and then some". Now and I did not want to go in to the details, but I feel that this should be documented. That way,on his wedding day years from now, I can read this &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;out loud&lt;/span&gt; to everyone in attendance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I no longer need a clock in the morning. You see, Ben has decided that he should wake up at 5:00am each morning. Sadly, I am starting to get used to this time, when the sun is starting to rise, the birds are &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;chirping&lt;/span&gt; outside my window and three scoops of baby formula and placed in to a large bottle for my son to suck down as if he were at a hot dog eating contest. The morning is normal from...for the most part......then there is the Grunt!!!!! (this deserves a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;capital&lt;/span&gt; letter and the exclamation points)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You see, Ben is able to announce his &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;doody&lt;/span&gt; with a large Grunt!!! If you have ever been outside the bathroom door when an old constipated man is trying to go to the bathroom, then &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;you might&lt;/span&gt; understand what the Grunt!!!! sounds like.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What makes it more interesting is that it happens at the same time each morning. I hear that sound and I know that I need to be out the door for work in 15 minutes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I am &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;truly&lt;/span&gt; going to read this at Ben's wedding, then I guess I should thank him. Since the time is so close, I rarely was the one to change him.......&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5444338812694087814-4452465103070922283?l=diapersanddudes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diapersanddudes.blogspot.com/feeds/4452465103070922283/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5444338812694087814&amp;postID=4452465103070922283' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5444338812694087814/posts/default/4452465103070922283'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5444338812694087814/posts/default/4452465103070922283'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diapersanddudes.blogspot.com/2008/08/filler-up.html' title='Filler Up'/><author><name>AdamK</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03989986401299682690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5444338812694087814.post-5628951539425487454</id><published>2008-08-05T13:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-05T13:41:07.124-07:00</updated><title type='text'>MLB</title><content type='html'>I took Mason to his first Major League Baseball game. I grew up outside Philadelphia and now live in Boston, so my sporting life is not easy. I made a deal with my wife, who is from this area, that the boys can be raised Red &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Sox&lt;/span&gt; fans, but must cheer on the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Phildelphia&lt;/span&gt; Eagles (is that considered abuse?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Fenway&lt;/span&gt; must pump something in to the air so no matter how much food a child eats, they are always hungry.....first a hot dog, then an ice cream in a helmet, then a giant soft pretzel...then the words "I'm still hungry"......That park should have a line to donate blood so I can pay for all the food he ate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks to the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Wii&lt;/span&gt;, Mason had to tell me that these baseball players had legs and got to hold a real bat. Thanks Nintendo!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Going to an event like this with my boy is like spending time with the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Riddler&lt;/span&gt;.....How many people are at &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Fenway&lt;/span&gt;, what is a ball vs a strike, why did the man two rows behind us yell "You suck" to the other teams' pitcher.&lt;br /&gt; Did I mention that the first pitch was at 7:00pm? So, around the middle of the fourth inning, Mason looks at me and tells me he is tired and ready to go. Even with all of this, he got to see Manny before he got traded, he got to yell &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Yooook&lt;/span&gt;, and he got &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;to eat&lt;/span&gt; his first hot dog and a real ballpark. Thanks &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;MLB&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5444338812694087814-5628951539425487454?l=diapersanddudes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diapersanddudes.blogspot.com/feeds/5628951539425487454/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5444338812694087814&amp;postID=5628951539425487454' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5444338812694087814/posts/default/5628951539425487454'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5444338812694087814/posts/default/5628951539425487454'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diapersanddudes.blogspot.com/2008/08/mlb.html' title='MLB'/><author><name>AdamK</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03989986401299682690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5444338812694087814.post-6559105035369821730</id><published>2008-08-05T13:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-05T13:19:38.138-07:00</updated><title type='text'>And So it Starts</title><content type='html'>I should have started this 4 years ago when my first son, Mason, was born. I find the best humor to be found in the real life events of your very own children. Over the past 4 years, Mason has provided some of the funniest stories I have ever told...too many to remember (which is why I should have started this 4 years ago).&lt;br /&gt;Better late then never, with my oldest at 4 years and my youngest at 9 months, I am sure there will be plenty of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;events&lt;/span&gt; to write about.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5444338812694087814-6559105035369821730?l=diapersanddudes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://diapersanddudes.blogspot.com/feeds/6559105035369821730/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5444338812694087814&amp;postID=6559105035369821730' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5444338812694087814/posts/default/6559105035369821730'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5444338812694087814/posts/default/6559105035369821730'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://diapersanddudes.blogspot.com/2008/08/and-so-it-starts.html' title='And So it Starts'/><author><name>AdamK</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03989986401299682690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
