So the title says it all… but let me start from the beginning (Friday evening).

Mikey went to sleep like normal. I don’t think we had any incling of the impending ~24 hr flu, or stomach virus, or the repercussions that may have come as a result of food (or non-food) poisoning. Regardless, Friday seemed fairly normal. Though it was a day off, I worked about half of the day. The nanny took Mikey to the park and such (perhaps this is where he got the bug).

Everything was normal.

We had tuna sandwiches for dinner, and as usual, Mikey liked them. My wife has become quite the tuna salad afficianado, particularly given the fact that I just showed her how to make tuna salad for the first time about 6 months ago.

Again, everything seemed fine, until ~2am, when all of Mikey’s tuna ended up on the bed of the crib and on the floor just beyond its edge. The constant crying should have been a clue to something really wrong, but sometimes he just has a bad dream and then falls back to sleep. But after 3-4 minutes, Helen went to check on him.

She observed the trauma, stayed up with him after cleaning everything up, and got him to go back to sleep after about an hour. I can’t recall for sure (I stayed asleep – thanks Helen!), but I think he may have had another episode at 4 or 5 am. When I woke up (~9 am, Saturday) Helen explained the situation. Clearly he was very feverish – and it was concerning.

It took a while for the Ibuprofen to kick in (almost 2 hours) – but I think it was because he was sooooo hot (his legs, his head, his back, his chest – but his feet were cool/cold). Though the Ibuprofen helped, after 3 hours we gave him a full dose of Children’s Tylenol. That too seemed to help, but he was still hot.

He drank a bottle of milk, and that came back up within about 15 minutes. He was right next to me, and I didn’t know that his “stomach issues” were gonig to persist, so I didn’t have a bowl ready.

If flooded out like a quart of expulsion from a large pressurized garden hose. It was for sure more than he drank.

It pooled in the corner of our [rented] leather couch. I had to let it rest and soak into the cracks while I cleaned him up, changed his clothes, and took some time to calm him down. Like most anyone (especially any kid), he gets a bit scared when he vomits. He doesn’t understand why it’s happening, and of course it is a completely autonomic response (both sympathetic and parasympathetic). But I should not digress into the scientific rabbit hole…

After cleaning up the ejected milk, and waiting another 15 minutes or so, we proceeded to give Mikey some water. Of course we did this because we began to feel as if he might be a bit dehydrated after vomiting last night and in the morning. Unfortunately, this was our second mistake: I think we provided him with too much (we basically let him drink as much as he wanted). Essentially this was ammunition for the second cannon shot.  We saw the water, a second time, shortly thereafter.

From early morning I was sitting on the couch next to him. He was laying down, was still very hot, and clearly lethargic. He was wobbly, and had a hard time moving – and when he did anything even the slightest bit “strenuous” he shaked and was unsteady on his feet. SCARY for the parents, without a doubt – I promise you. But the fever was slowly cooling.

He slept. Almost an hour if my memory serves correctly.

When he woke he was again sweating. We continued our standard therapy, and decided it would be good for him to physically cool down – so we gave him a brief, cool bath. He was just too warm for my liking – and the latest dose of NSAIDs hadn’t kicked in yet (and of course you don’t want to double dose, ever, unless the alternative is going to clearly be much worse than any possible side effects).

Finally, we settled on a little juice and some water after calming down in front of the TV. I guess this was our third mistake. We shouldn’t have given him ANY more than ~10 mLs of ANYthing. But again, we thought he needed some fluids, and he seemed to like the strawberry-banana juice I picked up at the store last week. Again, he seemed fine… until it all came back up – this time on the other side of our L-shaped, off-white, all-leather couch (again – thankfully rented).

The PROBLEM (This THIRD TIME) was that my closed laptop was laying nearby. Too nearby if you know what I mean. And wouldn’t you know it – the projectile vomit went straight into the left side of my 17″ MacBook Pro. Because it was closed, my immediate reaction was that this was going to be no problem… I’ll just clean it and all will be OK.

Nope. Duh.

Again the emesis (mostly just water and juice – but routinely appearing to be greater in volume than what we had given him, implying that it was coming from beyond the proximal duodenum/ileum) was prolific and thorough. Yuck. But it was pretty clear fluid, for the most part, so I’m really not sure what was happening – and just assumed that he had a bad stomach bug. Obviously nothing was staying down.

The problem, once again, was that I had to take care of him in spite the sticky spew all over the couch. Unfortunately I didn’t quite notice the severity of the pooling along the left side of my computer with the immediacy that would have been recommended by my IT support staff. It just so happened that the computer was propped up slightly on the back of the couch, and the left side of the computer was touching the bottom cushion of the couch. This created a small “well” or “V-shape” between the cushion and the computer – and this is where the gastric expulsion rested.

Shit.

I knew this was bad, but what could I do? Shit does happen.

I quickly (within about 5-7 seconds) realized the unfolding drama and moved the computer to prevent the majority of the pooling, and to facilitate drainage. Damage done already – I feared.

After another round of cleaning up, changing the boy, calming the stressful situation, and settling down to vegetate in front of the television again (which is very unusual for our household) – I then tended to my beloved computer.

I used some Q-tips and Kleenex as required to clean out the ports. I opened the laptop, cleaned the fluid that had wicked (capillary action) in between the screen and the left side wrist rest, and shut down the computer before proceeding with a more thorough cleaning. The thin black seal along the edge of the screen, which looks nice and sexy -  didn’t seem to stop the flow. I wonder if Apple ever tested for puke seepage during R&D?

I had to squish the end of the Q-tips with plyers in order to flatten the tip(s) to the point where they would fit into the port.

With the cripmed Q-tips being flat enough to get above and below the male appendage (containing the ~20 contact pins) on the inside of the mini display port, I figured I had accomplished what needed to be accomplished. Gastrointestinal innards were removed, and the port appeared (without diligent inspection) to be generally clear.  But still – I knew it needed more.

I busted out the toothpicks and did my best to clean out any remaining vomitous detritus left behind after the Q-tip swabbing, bit by acidic bit. Feeling pretty confident now, I returned to tending to my son. He was sweating, whining, aching and generally unhappy. I did my best to console him, pet him, cool him, and keep his mind off of his aching muscles/belly/whatever. I asked, repeatedly, where it hurt (in Russian – Где болит) – but he just couldn’t tell me. Either he didn’t know how to say it, or he was just in too much pain to try to explain, or even point for that matter.

After about an hour I openened the computer and fired her up. All seemed well, I connected to the wireless, checked my email, and felt very relieved that nothing had happened to the overall functioning. In the late afternoon/early evening I took my refurbished computer to the office and plugged it into my 23″ monitor, a mouse, the internet cable, and the printer cable.

Problems started here.

The external 23″ monitor didn’t go on after connecting to the mini-display port. It should have, but I’ve had troubles before with the external monitor’s power control box. So, I unplugged all the cables and plugged them back in.

Yeah right. Dreaming I must have been!

My son PUKED INTO my USB and mini-display ports, and I, somehow, was thinking (dreaming) that something ELSE must be wrong?   Talk about denial not being a river!

But after 2 minutes of trying various things, plugging and unplugging cables – I admitted to myself that it was most likely the projectile strawberry banana vomit that shorted out my port that controls external monitors.  Nooooooo!

The clincher was when I plugged in my old computer (which is now Helen’s), and it fired up the external monitor straightaway.

Damn it. I love this capability to drive a big, fat external monitor – and I use it both at work AND at home, routinely. Yes, I have a 17″ MacBook – but I love the extra acreage that another monitor provides! DAMN IT! DAMN IT ALL TO HELL!  I can’t believe I’ve been foiled by puke.

I proceeded to clean the ports again. The USB worked after the first cleaning – but obviously something is still wrong with the mini-display port… or it did, in fact, short out something inside the computer.

I even tried to run a Apple Hardware Diagnostics on my computer by starting it up while holding down the “D” key – but I guess my computer is too old for this to do over the internet, and otherwise I needed to have the original disc that came packed with the computer – over 2 years ago. Man – I have so many discs floating around, I’m not even sure where it is. I tried restarting with a Snow Leopard disc – that didn’t work. I then tried a Leopard disc – that didn’t work.   Ahhhh – fuck it.

I cleaned out the port again as best I could. Again some miniscule crap came out on the tip of the Q-tip. I thought I’d surely done it now. But alas, as you might have surmised from my story thus far, it was to no avail. Nothing was working. Damn it again…

I became depressed. I even started looking at websites on repairing mini-display ports. There are very few out there – and not much information specifically about any kind of specific issues related to regurgitating into one’s display port and the repercussions or remedies therefor. Without much luck – I started looking at new computers.

Ooooh. New computer!

Clearly I was despondent. I left the computer on the desk, refocused my care on my son once again, and went to bed feeling crappy because my son was ill, and that f’n illness took out my computer as well. Damn it.

[Sunday] I was up at 4 am and 6 am to check on Mikey. Both times he was much better than during the day on Saturday. He was surely a bit warmer than normal, but he was actually pretty close to normal. Instead of waking him up, sticking a suppository up his ass, and possibly causing distress that could result in an hour(s) of crying and recognition of existing pain – I let him sleep. After the 6 am check, I was pretty sure he was doing OK, so I returned to sleep until again, until about 8:30 am, when Jimmy woke up.

Though Mikey wasn’t quite himself, and he appeared to be weak and somewhat dehydrated after waking up – he was definitely better than the day before. He still refused to eat ANYTHING. Nevertheless, I knew he was on his way to recovery – amazingly.

Returning to my computer issue – by mid-day this notion of the mini-display port being fried was starting to fry me and my brain. How did it happen? How could it have happened? I want to see the evidence if something “burned out.” So, I opened up the computer. Pretty easy, because I have some really small screwdrives for my motorcycle. Ten screws later, the back was off, and I was peering around the inside looking for damage. I cleaned fuzz from around the fans and looked for traces of gastric secretions around the affected ports in addition to any unusual markings, fizzles, or anything indicating a “pop.”

I saw nothing, and I wasn’t convinced something actualy fried inside.

I returned to the toothpick supply, the Q-tip drawer, and pulled out my plyers again. I began re-flattening my arsenal of Q-tips, and this time I busted out the last few milliliters of 100% EtOH we have in our stash.

Using all the focal strength of my aging eyes (hardening lenses), and taking advantage of direct sunlight beaming into my living room – I proceeded to clean the port AGAIN. Though nothing was obvious, I noticed some minute dried crusties deep and inside the port. They were for all intents and purposes, not an issue. But I wanted that sucker as clean as could be.

I cleaned once, I cleaned twice, and I cleaned again for good measure.

Can you guess what happened next?

It worked.

Yahoooooo!  Whooooooopie!!!  I am DA MAN!  Ooooooohhhhh   Yeeeeeaaaaaaahhhhhh!

Soooooo stoked.

My son, who had a 1 day viral infection (or some sort of gastrointestinal toxin, without diarrhea) was in full recovery mode, AND my computer was BACK!

It has been a roller coaster of a weekend, so I thought I should take advantage and not forget it by blogging about it now.

I wonder how many others have brought in their computers to a computer repairman – only for the repairman to find that nothing was wrong with their computer except that a pin inside some port wasn’t clean or was shorting out for some reason?  (Oh, and then charging like ~$300 for a new chip or something).

Anyway, I’m stoked. Happy days again. Time for bed.

 

 

Yep,

I’ve now officially lived in Ukraine for 4 years. As of yesterday.

My experience here is nearing its end. I’ve done my time, I’ve taken a needed break from the bench, I’ve officially left academia, I’ve done my time (oops, I said that twice), I’ve had two children, I’ve gone to business school, I’ve taken a demanding job that has taught me LOTS about business… AND I’ve served my country in a way that few scientists get to do. Shoot… I don’t think I’ve every mentioned my background. Interesting.

I’m not going to lie – it has also been quite stressful. More gray hairs than I’d like to admit to. Definitely not half as much sleep as I was getting in college – including those all-night study sessions. I guess I’m looking for less stress in my life – and more time to do what I want to do, where I want to do it. The Freedom that America offers is truly unparalleled in this world. I have new perspective. HUGE perspective.

All this said… I’m definitely ready for the next chapter in my life. Big risk… with hopefully a BIG reward. Not only monetarily, but spiritually, emotionally, and developmentally. Yes… I’m in my forties and feel like I’m still just a kid sometimes. I’ve got lots to do. Dreams and expectations.

I’ll do my best to ramp up some posts here at the end, and try to capitalize on invigorated enthusiasm. Plus, I’m sure as the time draws down, I’ll start to miss some of the really cool things about living (and having lived) in Ukraine. I will try to pass those on to the few individuals that occasionally enjoy snippets of my adventures here in Kiev, Odessa, Lviv, Vinnitsa, Kharkiv, Dnipropetrovsk, Poltava, Vishnya Dubechnya, Uzhgorod, Ternopil, Zhytomir, Khmelnitsky, and many other cities and towns I’ve been to during my stint in Ukraine. There are definitely some things that will be sorely missed.

Many wonderful people and great memories… but it’s time to go Home.

Here’s to New Chapters!!!

Snotty

About a year ago I noticed that M&M’s were in our local supermarket. Craving many things American, I of course bought a bag. Truly delicious.

I put a bag in the fridge – but it ended up altering the taste a bit. For whatever reason (moisture ?) they weren’t quite the same when they warmed up again. So, I bought another bag. In fact, I’ve purchased quite a few 400g bags – which may explain (in addition to the beer consumption) why I’ve gained like 10 kg in the last 2 years. More or less, I always have a bag above the microwave.

Besides the point…

So I’ve purchased quite a few bags of M&M’s in my time (in my 5th decade of life already: where does the time go?). At first I thought nothing of the occasional strangely shaped chocolate treat. They were all the usual brown, red, yellow, green, and orange. Come to think of it, I’m not sure if there are any blue ones in the Ukrainian bags.

Nope. I just checked.

This is what I’m talking about:

Note: The upper M&M is a fully-coated, mis-shapen chunk of chocolate. I’ve got no issues with mutants. After all, we are all mutants in one way or another – and I am quite obviously a mutant (I won’t expand on this, but some of you may know what I’m talking about). So what’s the deal? Why are these so prevalent?

No, I haven’t counted them, enacted any clarifying statistical analyses, performed any unusual tests, etc – nor does it keep me up at night (in case you were wondering). But it IS a strange thing. I’m telling you!

As another proof of principle – I (just moments ago) performed another random test while checking to see if there were any blue M&M’s (though I was pretty sure there weren’t). Hang on… why AREN’T there any blue ones? I think there are still blue ones in America, right?  Racist bastards. Anti-M&Mites. Segregationists. Damn it.

Whatever. Well – not that my blatant and limited query of the quantitative M&M distribution is conclusive or anything… but I think there are more than the average number of mutants in Ukrainian bags. So I’m actually appealing (of course, I haven’t appealed yet, but I will) to you – the world wide web public – to tell me me if this happens elsewhere?

Regardless, and with this said, when looking for the blue M&M’s (as mentioned above), I reached in and subsequently pulled out another completely random [small] handful. In fact, it was only 10 M&M’s. What do you know – 2 of them are unusual. For you engineers, rocket scientists, mathemeticians, and brain surgeons out there – that would imply that 20% of our Ukrainian M&M’s are abnormal. OK – so this is not quite representative, but…

Voila!

It illustrated my point perfectly!

Another clear example of what I’m talking about. Though I didn’t spend time configuring the M&M’s in my palm, you can see that the red one has a well-defined flat side. But more obvious is the green one directly below the red one. The green one is nearly cut in half – AND it is a smaller diameter. You cannot tell by the picture, but it is NOT broken: it is fully coated with green hard candy casing. Ha-Haaaaa! Vindication in the first handful of the not-so-official test.

So -

My theory:

That mutant M&M’s are intentionally trafficked to 3rd world countries because the residents there don’t know what a near perfect bag of M&M’s should look like.

Yes. There. I said it. You may be laughing. You may think I’m crazy. You may thing that’s ludicrous, preposterous, inflammatory, ridiculous, insighting, obnoxious, and a cause for candy wars – but it’s my blog, and that’s what I think.

It’s pretty simple really – I believe that there is, without a doubt, a higher proportion of cut, broken, squared, tiny, dimpled, skinny, unmarked, puny, small asteroid shaped pseudo-M&M’s in the bags sold here in Ukraine than in the USA. I base this belief on many, many years (decades actually) of loving M&M’s – and eating them regularly in America. In the past year or so I have noticed an extremely high proportion of mutant M&M’s. For sure. Without question.

Now I’m not saying that I’m a professional M&M inspector or anything, but I have a pretty good eye for detail. I’ve never noticed such a phenomenon (peculiarly mishapen candies in a bag of M&M’s) like that which I have noticed here in Ukraine. So what’s the deal. Ukraine isn’t as sophisticated, culinarily-confectionarily speaking? Is that it – you American pigs? (Damn, did I just say that).

Well fine – I did. I’m an American, and I love America. But shipping all the unwanted, poor old mutant M&M’s to Ukraine (and presumably elsewhere – but I have no evidence for this – please do not bombard me with requests backing up my claims). Seriously. Did Mars, Incorporated think that we wouldn’t notice? There are roughly 15,000 Americans in Ukraine (yes, I just found this out due to a recent July 4 artical in the Kyiv Post – which I read like once a year) – and Mars, Inc. didn’t think one of us would notice and raise the alarm bells? I’m going to write to the Ambassador and lodge a formal complaint.

Hahahahahaha – gotcha. I wouldn’t do that – because I’m going to meet the Ambassador tomorrow – I can tell him straight to his face. Hahahaha… just kidding again – I would never do such a thing.  But I thought about it (obviously).

I have to state, for the record, that the mutants don’t taste any different. I performed a semi-blind taste test and can verify that they do, in fact, taste the same as the others. HOWEVER, I might note that because they are smaller, there seems to be a larger amount of candy coating relative to the inner chocolate – and that does impart a slightly different texture to the candy.

Well look – I’m also a businessman, and I understand that waste not want not. If you throw candy away, you are losing profits. But man – why not just spread out the mutants to everyone in the world. It would probably average out to only 1 (at most) in every bag. Why are there 10% mutants (intentionally inflammatory statement here) in Ukrainian bags?  Is America saying Ukrainians won’t notice it? Ukrainians will take whatever America gives to her? Ukrainians don’t care about what they eat?  What???

Alrighty – back to work.

If anyone has any real evidence of other countries being the unknowing recipients of M&M’s of second-rate, imperfect, or theoretically undesirable (particularly to the perfection-demanding American public) quality… please post a comment!

Hmmm… I wonder if putting them on top of the microwave might be doing something to the ?    

Best,

Snotty

 

Credit to the sources: M&M’s homepage and M&M’s Wikipedia

So I’ve had lots of things to discuss – but I’ve been just too busy to sit and write. Or rather, I’ve had lots of other things to do, and just haven’t made time to write new posts.

Anyway, I thought that on Jimmy’s 7th month birthday I would post some pictures of the little hedgehog (ежик) (his Russian nickname). In fact, I thought this might be an opportune time to catch everyone up on the monthly development of Jimmy  – through the eyes of the camera.

Each picture is about a month apart – more or less

Best to everyone!

Cheers!

“I have to laugh…” as Bill Murray famously said…

To set the stage… a few weeks ago my MIL was over at our house, and was hungry (as usual). I wasn’t here, so this comes to me via my wife – but because I keep thinking about it, and I chuckle each and every time – I figured I should share it with y’all.

Also, important to remember is the fact that my MIL speaks virtually no English. Meaning that she reads and writes none as well.

Anyhow… there was some leftover rice in the fridge. My wife said to Mom that she should just put some soy sauce on the warmed rice, and it’ll be a fine snack. Bear in mind, Ukrainians don’t really use soy sauce. So they aren’t overly familiar with the stuff. In fact, for the longest time we couldn’t find any at the market(s), and when we finally did, it was outrageously expensive. So, we brought a gallon from the USA about a year ago, and still have about half left.

I mention this because we refill our soy sauce bottle as needed from the plastic gallon jug. But of course, it’s not really a “soy sauce bottle,” because we bought the gallon size Costco-style jug. So we put it into an olive oil bottle, which just so happens to have a little plastic top on it – resembling (though not really) a typical soy sauce bottle top restrictor, so you don’t flood your rice/food with salty brew.

So here they are – the two bottles:

 

You know where I’m going with this, don’t you?

You can kinda see where the old Sharpie text is on the label of the olive oil – saying “Soy Sauce.” Barely. But hey, it’s our kitchen, and we know which is which and what is what. Plus, we know what Soy Sauce looks and smells like. Doesn’t everyone?

Unfortunately my mother-in-law doesn’t. She can’t read English, so the “Fish Sauce” was “Greek” to her. My wife said to just sprinkle some soy on her warm rice, and it’ll be fine.

Wouldn’t you know it… she sprinkled the rice with Fish Sauce!!!  Well… more like doused.

The funniest part about this episode was that she knew it tasted funny. But she didn’t know why. And she figured that it must be “normal” tasting, because she has seen us do this many, many times. So… fine… (she said to herself)… I’m just gonna eat it.

And she did. The whole bowl. Nasty ass fish sauce poured all over her re-heated rice. Damn it man, it makes me want to vomit just writing this blog about it.

Do you all know what Fish Sauce smells like? Total fish puke, wrapped in fish skin, fermented in fish crap, and mixed with a little fish piss. No kidding. It’s hard for me to get close to the stuff.

And she ate a WHOLE BOWL of rice covered in Fish Sauce!

On top of it, even though she knew it tasted “funny,” she didn’t want to throw it away! So she kept going.  A bowl of rice – which costs pennies. I understand not wanting to waste anything, but seriously….

“Funny?”  There’s nothing funny about eating straight fish sauce. Damn it. I think I might just puke thinking about it. I’m laughing, but crying at the same time. Totally gnarly. Totally.

OK, actually, it is quite funny.

Can’t get it outta my head!!!

Best,

Snotty

Well time flies, doesn’t it?

Haven’t posted in a while, and so I thought Jimmy’s 4 month “birthday” (today) would be a good time to share some pictures.

This covers a couple of months –  I hope you enjoy as much as we do!

It has been a while, so I thought I’d write a post about some of Mikey’s new “tricks.”

1) Tantrums.

Yes, the wonderful “terrible” twos have arrived – and a bit early, if you catch my drift. Indeed, I suppose it’s a misnomer. Two doesn’t necessarily mean AT 2 years old. But somehow I was really hoping that such tantrums wouldn’t start until the age of two, at least – which is just under 2 more months. I am truly hoping that we are not going to experience an extended terrible-twos… because that would unbelievably suck. Speaking with a buddy, who happens to be visiting, we discussed his kids’ early years. One was not nearly as painful/challenging (with respect to the terrible twos) as the other, the latter of which turned out to be a total nightmare for about 4-5 months. I figure we are about a month into it now. I certainly hope it slows/stops/disappears as Mikey is better able to express himself. Speaking of…

2) Speech.

Mikey has only begun to speak the most rudimentary of words. For better or worse, he is speaking almost only Russian. This will change of course, but for now, we live in a Russian/Ukrainian speaking country – so it is definitely easier. Mom, Grandma, and Nanny all speak perfect Russian, with Dad lagging a bit (but I can get by). Better said, actually, he is understanding almost only Russian. Real speech is yet to come. One of [wife-given] my jobs (!) is to try to communicate more in English with him – but I don’t like that very much: For one, I don’t get the practice speaking Russian (for myself); secondly, I am being asked to speak with my son in a language (English) that he really doesn’t hear during the majority of the day – making communication challenging and, in fact, relatively ineffective;  and thirdly, my wife is a perfect English speaker – so why she can’t, or doesn’t, speak to Mikey in English is confusing to me? Kapeesh?

Anyway, he has, just in the past week or two, started combining syllables. He has for a while been able to rhyme (repeat) basic 2-syllable sounds: baba, mama, papa, booboo, vava, etc.  Although we’ve tried to get him to say more complex words, his tongue just hasn’t seemed capable of responding to his neural commands. Sure, some things he could say – like “Wow!” BUT, in the last week, he has leapt ahead and started saying words like “apple” and “cookie.” SOOOO AWESOME, and cute! It’s such a simple thing – but for me, it is a remarkable feeling of joy and satisfaction. My son is beginning to speak!  And in the not too distant future, it means that we will begin to have 2-way discussions      I can’t wait!!!

3) Reading.

Of course we’ve been reading books for a long time (almost as long as he has been alive)… but as of this past week he has been seeing letters and taking the initiative of speaking them to me – without me asking him to do so!  For example, when our computer starts up on our big screen TV, it says “P5B-V” in big letters. He is now reading those letters when the TV starts up. At first I didn’t realize what he was doing. But then, he pointed at the letters (numbers) and said them one after the other. Moreover, I would say the word “five,” and he can now repeat the compound sounds!  Pretty cool!

4) Conversations.

Mikey has a “best buddy” at the park. The nannies have a meeting place every day (different places, but generally at the park), and the kids get together and play while the nannies huddle together to gab, gossip, and blab about the kids, life, and how the parents are inept and stupid (I’m guessing). Anyhow, Mikey has a best friend, Luke. In the past week or so, Luke and Mikey have begun conversing with each other! They use total, utter, and complete gobbledygook – but somehow they ARE communicating. Or, at least they appear to be. And they appear to be trying: mimicking the nannies babble to one another in Russian. They say things like “gapoo-dalikala-mooloo, deepadoo-likka-likala-doodee,” etc, etc.. In fact, they appear to be having full-blown conversations, where for a 30 seconds or more they go back-and-forth to each other. We’ll try to capture it on video soon and post it.

5) Eating.

Mikey has recently begun really feeding himself with utensils. Most notably, a fork (вилка). He enjoys “stabbing” the food and lifting it to his waiting mouth! Awesome! He even rotates the fork properly, seals his lips around the tines, and pulls the fork out, leaving the food completely in his mouth! Success!

6) Boo-boos.

He has been getting more and more “ouchies.” Here, they are called “va-vas” (va-va is singular). On his face, on his hands, on his chin and nose, etc…   It seems like almost daily we notice something new. Of course the nanny (Natasha) also sees them, and tries to curb them, but somehow she also enables them. I’m thinking he gets them from playing in/around bushes, and the twigs catch him unknowingly. The worst part is seeing things around his eyes. Shit! Skin is one thing, eyeballs are another.

7) Dancing.

He is a DANCER!  Who woulda thunk it? He loves to dance to almost any/every kind of music on the TV, radio, or even in-house human-generated rhythm. He has been going to “school” where they dance and play – and he is really good!

School.

Speaking of school, he has been going every week and doing various art projects. Usually involving paper and glue, and some sort of inexpensive grain (like barley). But he makes designs and pseudo-pictures. Pretty cool. He made a little Christmas tree postcard. He crayoned a mushroom and glued barley on the cap (it looks like a Polish mushroom).

Like any parent, I feel like I could go on and on and on… so I think I’ll just leave it there for now.

Best to all

I had something strange happen to me a couple of years ago now, and I’m wondering if it has happened to others.

I woke up one morning and my hair (on my head) decided, all on its own, to part on the opposite side. I showered, cleaned myself up for work, and still – the hair laid the other way.

How can this be? Why would this be?

I tried to get it to go back to how it has been for the last ~10 years – but no!  It would not have anything to do with that side of my head. Wow!

I thought – maybe because my hair has finally (after ~2 years) realized that I’m living on the other side of the Atlantic… Or maybe because most Ukrainians part their hair on the right side, finally my hair had succumbed to hair peer pressure. I don’t know… but it was really strange.

I accepted it, no problem. (after all, what could I do?  I could go out with hair sticking up in all directions, or just listen to my hair, and go with the flow).

I pretty quickly got used to looking at my face a bit differently, and pictures of me returned to looking normal after about a month.

But you know what – 2 days ago – for some equally unknown reason…

IT WENT BACK!

Huh?  What?  What the… ?

Yep, it’s back to parting on the left. Very interesting. Very curious. I may have to write a paper on this…

Sorry for the blather – but this has been tripping me out for the last couple of days now – and so I thought I’d see if it has happened to anyone else?

Let me know.

And HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!

So all is well.

Mom is doing great, the baby is resting comfortably in his new crib, and we’ve only had one or two incidents with Mikey getting two close to the baby – and approaching with too much momentum.

So the name -

James Alexander Geller

Why? Because we like it. I think we like Jimmy, because it goes well with Mikey… And James is a nice, strong, uncomplicated, manly name

But I think it’s mostly so that it goes well with his brother… as in… Mikey, Jimmy, get your asses over here, NOW!

Also, Alexander is a very common name in Soviet (or former Soviet) countries. So that’s kinda nice, because he was born in Kiev!

And, we have both a MAG and a JAG. It seems to work.

Here’s a couple pictures of the little dude

cheers…..

It is with utmost joy, glory, satisfaction, and profound elation that I (we) announce the birth of our second son. We are unbelievably grateful for this gift, and we are genuinely moved by his grace and tranquility (so far).

It occurred today, in Kiev, Ukraine, at 10:12am – just a few days before the presumed “due date.”  The morning was delightfully crisp with fresh air and blue skies all around.

Under very relaxed conditions, and with the help of the same doctors that delivered Mikey, our second son took in his first breath of air and let out a couple of brief cries – and with that, our lives have once again changed forever. In fact, the world has changed forever – at least from our narrow perspective.

He is healthy, cute (cuter than the pictures show), alert, strong, a natural feeder, and not fussy (again, it’s just day 1). He weighed in at 3.45 kg (~7 lb, 10 oz), 54 cm (21.25″) long, and 36 cm (14.17″) of circumference at the head. He ranked between 8 and 9 on some scale, up to 10… so I guess he is doing pretty well so far. If it’s a Ukrainian scale, it’s probably bogus… but hey, I’m not going to be cynical on my son’s birthday. There are no guarantees in life – but all seems to be going as it should so far. Thankfully. Very Thankfully.

In fact, I guess this is turning out to be an honest to goodness Thanksgiving. (It always is, but you know what I mean, don’t you?). We are thankful, that’s for sure.

And we want to thank all of you, our friends and family, for being part of our lives, and for being part of our larger family!

THANK YOU!!!!!

большое спасибо!!!

Here are a few pictures. I will update the blog with some more as the days progress. But these are from day 1. Enjoy.

OK,

gotta get to bed, and then back to the hospital in the morning.

Oh, and FYI, Mikey, now a little over 20 months old – is doing great too. We can’t wait for him to meet his little brother!!!

Lots of Love,

Mom and Dad

Neither are 100% accurate, but both are inevitable.

Gonna hunker down for another winter, and do our best to raise a healthy sibling for Mikey.

Obviously more news to come in the nearest future 

All the best,

Snotty

… is what my Assistant said at the end of the day, as I was mentioning to her some of the items on tomorrow’s agenda.

Before she could say any more, I interrupted her with:

“take off this uniform and leave the show”

I waited a few seconds while scanning her expressionless face for a sense of acknowledgement. I then politely looked up at her and said, “do you know that song?” And as I expected, she had no idea. Now maybe it’s because I’m not exactly singing it like Pink (though I was trying), but still… I can hold a tune well enough for THAT lyric to be recognized. Nevertheless, her naivety, or unfamiliarity, of the song wasn’t really surprising at all.

However, then I inquired – “do you know who Pink Floyd is?”

She said, did they write “man on the moon” (or something like that). I said “uh, no.” She said, “well, I don’t know them, but I have heard of them.” Hmmmm (I thought to myself), I sort of have my doubts about that. It’s nothing against her, and again, it’s no real surprise. Or at least, I shouldn’t be that surprised. There are many Russian/Ukrainian groups (well, nearly all, actually) that I’ve never heard of. So if she said the same to me about one of her favorite bands, I’d likely be equally naive. But then again, Pink Floyd is one of the most popular rock bands, ever – world wide.

I mentioned it to my wife when I got home, and she thought that was ridiculous (because she had listened to Pink Floyd for many years – and she’s 100% Ukrainian as well). But then again, my Assistant is 25 (10 years younger than my wife), and hasn’t necessarily traveled much.

Still… as I sat in my office, alone, for then next 10 minutes, I just wondered and wandered a bit…

I came to the conclusion:

I have lived a lot of my life through the music of Pink Floyd – and their music means a lot to me.

I have been places that make me think of their music. I can go places when I listen to their music. I have pondered their lyrics over and over. I have recorded myself singing Pink Floyd songs. I have learned David Gilmore licks on my guitar. I have watched Pink Floyd videos, and I have seen Pink Floyd live in concert 3 times. I have experienced significant mood altering episodes while enjoying their music. I have watched The Wall at least 20 times. At least! I have listened to some of their albums well over 100 times – and Animals – dare I say a thousand. I’ve lip-synced to Pink Floyd, and I’ve karaoked to Pink Floyd. I used to have a tie-dyed Pink Floyd wall covering – which traveled with me and adorned my walls for well over a decade. In the 80′s I wore out my Pink Floyd tapes, and I had their bumper stickers on my VW bug, and have had too many T-shirts to count them all.

And this woman, my Executive Assistant, that works for me and sits next to me every day – has never even really heard or appreciated this music.

I was stunned. It reminded me of how much I have actually lived, and all of the places I have been when enjoying their music. Sometimes laughing, sometimes crying, but always loving that music. Music that has so much meaning, it never stops making sense. It is timeless, and genius – and there’s nothing else quite like it – nor will there be, in my opinion. Not to get overly philosophical or anything, but sometimes I forget about those days gone by – and I find myself getting too caught up (or trapped) in the daily minutia.

Well – I think it’s healthy to reflect upon some of those memories from time to time – lest, we forget some of our most wonderful and cherished memories = some of our best moments, in life. Indeed, this is what just that one line got me thinking about.

Stop
I wanna go home
Take off this uniform
And leave the show
And I’m waiting in this cell
Because I have to know
Have I been guilty all this time

OK, I admit… I’ve been lagging on the pictures
I guess there’s a desire from family and friends to see more pictures of Mikey.
So, here you go…

They are more or less in order, from January (~9 months) until July (just over 16 months).

All seems to be going well.

Enjoy.

It’s a holiday weekend in Ukraine. Constitution day today. That means a long weekend. Nice.

We went to the dacha, as has been the norm ever since early May, on the weekends. We usually spend the night, and last night was no exception. It was particularly fun because it was just the immediate family (my wife, my son, and me). Mom is at a sanatorium. No, not for a crazed individual – in Ukraine it means more like a spa (see here). That’s not to say that she doesn’t sometime seem to be in need of one of those other facilities – but that’s for another day (he he he). Anyway, we did the usual gardening, watering, weeding, berry-picking, bbq, etc. I will post some pictures soon, I promise — some cute ones of Mikey, for sure.

But today’s post has more to do with my ride home. Yep, the motorcycle (Dnepr MT-11) is still running well (though someone stole my gas out of my tank – AGAIN – a couple weeks ago). Jesus – does it ever end?  Whatever…. it’s a bit warm for long pants, boots, and a leather jacket, but I still wear it all – because I like keeping my skin intact if I happen to come off the bike for some unexpected reason.

I’ve learned to deal with most Russian (Ukrainian) drivers pretty well. More or less – they all suck. Most feel entitled to the road, and if anything gets in their way, they simply drive around the obstacle if possible. Literally, they drive off road, on sidewalks, through parks, across parking lots, around trees, on private property, on highway shoulders (and beyond), and more. They honk, flash their lights at you, drive about 2 feet behind you, etc. Indeed, it is frustrating sometimes when you are patiently waiting in a queue for the traffic to subside, and the morons in their Land Rovers are passing you on the left, right, and center. Idiots. Pure and simple.

I’ve concluded (with the aid of discussion with my wife) that their behavior is really the immediate result of “new found freedom.” Such freedoms have been cast upon people – quickly and widely – and have been abused in many, many ways. I could give lots of examples, but let’s just say that corruption is rampant, the veil of democracy has been exploited by those in the know, and personal success and individual liberty is often flaunted, over-emphasized and/or abused.

So why do I mention this today? I’m glad you asked.

I made the motorcycle ride all the way into Kyiv; the dacha is about 50 km away. All was well – it was a nice temperature and I didn’t see a single cop on the road. Remember, it’s a holiday – they all must have been on vacation, getting pissed – like most other Ukrainians.

I was riding on one of the “ring roads” that speeds my journey to the city center, though it is less direct. Again, it was a holiday today, and I was riding mid-day, so traffic was relatively light. However, on the ring road, both lanes (in this particular spot) were filled with vehicles.

What do you know, there was a guy riding my ass as we went over an overpass. There were cars all around, and in front of me for as far as the eye could see. He honked 2 or 3 times at me. I put up my hand as to say “what do you want – there are cars in front of me?”  He got a bit pissy and passed me on the right – honking again.

Well – it pissed me off, and so I “flipped him the bird.”

Yep – the finger; up yours; the fuck you and the horse you rode in on…

…………../´¯/)
…………./¯..//
…………/….//
……/´¯/’…’/´¯¯’)¸
…/’/…/…./……./¨¯\
.(‘(…´…´…. ¯~/’…’)
..\……………..’……/
…’\……………. _.·´
…..\……………(
……\……………\

He obviously didn’t like this very much – even though he was being the unnecessarily aggressive typical Ukrainian prick driver that occupies all too much of the asphalt in this country. I’m guessing he is one of those assholes that looks for fights, beats his wife, gets shit-assed drunk every night, doesn’t have a job, still lives with his mother, steals from others, and thinks he is God’s gift to the planet. Typical scum around here. If you lived here, you would know what I mean. No, no, no – there are lots of good people too – but unfortunately, there are LOTS of these shit-for-brains too.

Anyway, this dickwad proceeded to get in front of me and slow down.

Fine. I’ve dealt with these losers before. I just stayed behind him.

Then he pretty much slammed on his brakes. Unfortunately, the brakes on the Dnepr aren’t so good, and with the sidecar attached they are even worse. Nevertheless, I locked up the front, and stopped before hitting the fucker.  (can you tell I’m a bit pissed?)

So, what do I do?

…………../´¯/)
…………./¯..//
…………/….//
……/´¯/’…’/´¯¯’)¸
…/’/…/…./……./¨¯\
.(‘(…´…´…. ¯~/’…’)
..\……………..’……/
…’\……………. _.·´
…..\……………(
……\……………\

and…

…………../´¯/)
…………./¯..//
…………/….//
……/´¯/’…’/´¯¯’)¸
…/’/…/…./……./¨¯\
.(‘(…´…´…. ¯~/’…’)
..\……………..’……/
…’\……………. _.·´
…..\……………(
……\……………\

again.

This really pissed the guy off. Clearly.

I stayed behind him, again, as he crawled forward. After about a hundred meters, he pulled forward and into the right lane.

He lowered his window and hit the brakes again. I came up on his left side, and what did I see?

A 9 mm handgun, pointed straight at me.

Holy shit man. Holy shit.

I ducked, out of instinct, hit the brakes, and just about shat myself.

I must have said WOW! about 100 times to the inside of my helmet over the next 5 minutes.

*********

My exit was only about 200 meters ahead. My heart was pumping like mad. I got into the right lane and watched him pass my exit. Before he was out of sight, and as I was exiting the ring road, what did I do?

I stood on my footpegs and…

…………../´¯/)
…………./¯..//
…………/….//
……/´¯/’…’/´¯¯’)¸
…/’/…/…./……./¨¯\
.(‘(…´…´…. ¯~/’…’)
..\……………..’……/
…’\……………. _.·´
…..\……………(
……\……………\

I was hoping he didn’t come hunt me down (and I regretted doing this after it was done – but I was so angry).

It just goes to show you that there are crazy people everywhere. And that gun control doesn’t mean shit here. Supposedly very, very few people have guns – but I’m not so sure. And what do you know, I saw this article in the NY Times about gun control today.

Whatever. I learned my lesson: do not brandish the finger lightly around here. It’s just not worth it. To them, in a country where it’s relatively cheap to “get rid” of someone, and where people are craving to display their power and authority wherever, whenver possible (because they virtually had none for the previous 70 years) – it’s better to keep the finger in my thoughts rather than in their rear-view mirror.

I mentioned it to my wife as soon as I got home. She knew something was up — as I parked in our parking garage she clearly saw and heard in my voice that I was disturbed by something. She had made it home about 5 minutes before me (in the car). She said that she has heard of similar stories happening to other ex-pats.

I guess the story goes that many ex-pats (like me) feel as if they can express their discontent with other drivers on the road – e.g., “flipping the bird.”

Sure, sure… road rage happens everywhere – I know. And yes, I’ve even seen it and been privy to it in the past. But somehow (if I’m allowed to contend) I feel that there’s a greater acceptance of such displays in the U.S. (for example). I mean that, in the U.S. (or at least many parts that I’ve driven in), when someone does something really stupid or ignorant, that person may get “the finger.” I’m not saying this is a wise thing to do – but gestures like this are more common – and often result in a return (similar) gesture.

Not, per se, with a gun pointed at you.

Regardless, again… I learned my lesson. It is seriously scary looking down the barrel of a gun and into the eyes of a 20-something year old who doesn’t really appreciate life yet.

I’ve learned, again, that I’m in another country which harbors some serious “loose cannons” that have very little to lose (or gain). Life isn’t respected as much as it should be. Really.

As I rode up the elevator of my building with my beautiful wife, adorable baby, and our summer house weekly booty – I realized that I had just escaped death. That fucker could have easily just pulled the trigger, and I’d be dead – or clinging to life – in a Ukrainian hospital. And he would have simply driven off, and nobody would have ever known really what happened – but I would have widowed my wife and son. And the guy wouldn’t have cared.

So… I think I’ll be keeping all my fingers in check from now on. It’s just not worth it!

I’m looking forward to coming home to America. And after today, the sooner the better.

I’ve been traveling a bit, and I’ve seen a restaurant (chain) in Ukraine. There aren’t a lot of them, but I’ve seen a couple. They are called:

CCCP

Now, I’ve always known this as “C” “C” “C” “P”. Yet, the funniest thing happened the other day, and I had an epiphany regarding the spelling (born out of my naivety about the spelling).

To the average English speaker this spelling appears perfectly “normal” (standard). But it just so happens that these are also standard Cyrillic letters. In the Russian alphabet there are 36 letters, and the majority (or at least it seems like the majority) of them look different to Latin characters. But in Cyrillic, “CCCP” actually transliterates to “SSSR” (Latin).

CCCP stands for “Союз Советских Социалистических Республик”

Again, when transliterated, it would look (in Latin) like SSSR. When translated, it turns into USSR due to it being the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics.

I guess I find it funny that I always thought of the Soviet Union as the U.S.S.R., and I always wondered why it had also been occasionally (in my part of the world) referred to as CCCP. I figured CCCP was Russian, but I didn’t know why or how it translated. I suppose I would have expected CCCP to LOOK different if it were written in Russian (Cyrillic letters)… but alas, it does not – and the characters look “normal” to me.

Are you seeing where I’m going, or am I losing you?

Anyhow… the funny part of this story is that I openly displayed my ignorance in front of some Ukrainians (this, after being here nearly 3 years): I said “How about we go to the “C” “C” “C” “P” Cafe for lunch. The Ukrainians looked at me — obviously, and COMPLETELY, confused. You could see in their eyes that this stimulated persistent signaling from one side of their brains to the other – like an Olympic ping pong match – over and over again: they just couldn’t figure out what in the world I was talking about. Literally 10-15 seconds later……….  someone finally put it together.

“Oh, you mean ‘SSSR’ Cafe.” And I said, “no, I mean ‘CCCP’.” Again they looked at me puzzled… and after about 5 seconds I realized my complete and utterly embarrassing blunder – I felt like a total idiot. You know… one of those frail moments that strikes usually capable individuals every now and again – and you realize you have just made a complete fool of yourself in front of people you would really rather have not done that in front of.

I didn’t put together that    CCCP = SSSR.

With good reason, this has turned into a long-standing joke, and even the Ukrainians for the rest of the ~2 week trip began referring to the Cafe as “CCCP”.  Each time they said it, they laughed, and then looked at me.

Fantastic. I love that feeling. A(nother) Stupid American in a [former] Soviet country – sounding like an idiot.

Ahhhhhh……….

I suppose everyone has silly moments. This was definitely one of mine…

… Cuz you know when we sleep aloooone, [it means] Mikey is sleeping all by himself.’

It’s the first time. We moved Mikey into his own room.

13 months, 10 days, 10 hours, 2 minutes (or so).

The first real significant phase in our child’s life is complete.

He has grown, he has matured, and he has taken to his own room like a true champion, too. We moved the crib out of the Master Bedroom, we warmed up the kid’s (or kids’) room, we bathed and cleaned him, and then we dressed him for bed in his own little room. We fed him his pre-sleep milk, and helped him into the crib. Some 20 minutes of rocking and cooing later, the boy was asleep, the nightlight was on, the curtains were drawn, and we were free.

He was a champion. He slept all night long without a peep! He woke up and not a peep! Very Amazing. About 10 hours of near total separation (except for checking on him before going to bed ourselves), and the entire family woke up in the morning – happy as can be imagined.

The best part, we didn’t have to be quiet in our room any more, we could turn the lights on if we wanted to, we didn’t have to tip-toe around OUR own bedroom, etc, etc.

Thank you Mikey.

Thank you.

We just opened a jar of tomato juice, and I just wanted to share the flavor…

Rich, aromatic, full-bodied, chunky, sweet, pulpy, ruthlessly red with off-yellow seeds, and very-very healthy. I could taste it. Anyone could taste it. It is undeniable. So fresh and alive, it’s easy to tell that it leads to good life.

It contained nothing but tomatoes: crushed from our own vines, and canned according to ancient Ukrainian tradition. OK, I made that part up – but it sounded good. I’m sure it’s just ancient tradition that has been (also) passed down, generation to generation, in this Ukrainian locale.

It was real, it was wow, it was freshly delicious – without a doubt, there’s nothing malicious. Chilled in the refrigerator and straight into a glass – it tasted as if we had canned some pizzazz. It didn’t need pepper, didn’t need salt, didn’t need sugar, and definitely not malt. No additives, no preservatives, not fortified, not mortified. It was sunshine in a glass – pure – with class.

I have to admit that I noted some impurities. Actually… perhaps, there were small specks of dirt-uities. Nope, there was not grit or crunching – thankfully – just a few tiny black flecks, for palatable munching.

My wife said it was flavor, and I believe her.

So fresh, so real, so full of life… should I have more?

I think I just might…….

Long live the помидор

I’m back!

Wow… I think I aged 5 years in this one year. What a long, strange trip it has been.

Most importantly, my son is now [just over] 1 year old. What a transformation this has been. He is both happy and healthy – touch wood (no, not your wood).

Anyhow, I’m now a “Master” in Biotechnology Management from IE Business School. I suppose it’s another notch in the proverbial belt of education. Admittedly, though, I learned a hell of a lot this year! It was more challenging than I had anticipated, which I suppose is a good thing.

Finally, my job is both demanding and arduous – but I’m apparently doing a pretty good job at it. From this perspective as well, I have learned quite a lot about business and corporate project management, not to mention maintaining my connection with the scientific community and science world. All good and interesting stuff…

So — I’m going to just catch my breath for a few more days, but then I will be getting back to blogging a bit more routinely about [just] one American’s life (and times) in Ukraine.

Here’s a pic just before we cut his hair. Looking forward to the next year!

According to Soviet tradition (though perhaps originating elsewhere, historically – probably religiously oriented), children do not get their hair cut until 1 year of age. Similar to orthodox Jewish tradition where it is 3 years, I believe. Thus, and to the chagrin of my wife, I have been insisting that we do not cut his hair. No trimming, no nipping, no plucking, no clipping. Let it grow, let it grow, let it grow (like one of my favorite Eric Clapton songs).

Of course, I’m not Russian or Ukrainian or even close. If anything I think there’s some Polish and German in the heritage. But since we are in Ukraine, and since our baby was born here, I think it is appropriate to honor some of those traditions. My wife thinks I’m crazy. She wants sooooo badly to cut the bangs because they are hanging in his eyes. But my MIL says it is absolutely a tradition to not cut a child’s hair until their first birthday. I kinda like it.

So we’ve turned to hair gel. Just a couple of days ago I was wondering why my boy looked like a 50′s “greaser.” I was told by my wife that she couldn’t take it any longer, and his hair had to get out of his eyes. So… here is a picture I took today of the little dude. Oh, and still no teeth as you can tell. We are thinking about baby dentures unless they come in soon. Are there such things as “toothless babies?”  I don’t think so… but supposedly hyperthyroidism is a potential cause of very early or very late tooth appearance.  But no other signs of this, so… Enough of the medical talk… here’s a pic from today.

Oh, and HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY – if you like in that kinda stuff…

Even though I have a bit of a head cold, I still woke up with this song in my head. Lionel Richie’s All Night Long. I love this song. It just makes me want to dance and sing along. OK, don’t think about me doing it… here are some original visuals (and sound) while you read along. (Click the video below to have it play along while you read).

So, why might I post a video from Lionel Richie, you ask? Because I felt like celebrating today. Even with a bit of trouble sleeping on my own because of a minor bug I picked up while traveling, it was one of the more comfortable nights in the last year.

One day before he turns 10 months old, Mikey was an Angel!

HE SLEPT ALL THE WAY THROUGH THE NIGHT,

(FOR THE FIRST TIME)

* * *

Oh Lord, please allow this to last… please let this be the first of many, many more restful nights for the whole family.

* * *

Also, and I promise to not provide all the details, but he pooped in his potty like a professional this morning. Supposedly he had done this a couple of times before, but this was the first time I had seen it. Honestly, I cannot remember the last time (if ever) I was so happy to see a little pile of human shit – that I stared at and analyzed for at least 15 seconds – trying to figure out why the two lumps were so different. Obviously it’s due to what we feed him at different meals, butt…….   either way, I need to give huge thanks to my mother in law. She sat there with him, holding him up with his legs in the air, positioning his butt over the light blue plastic potty, while making “grunting, pushing, pooping sounds” for about 10 minutes… and lo and behold – he did it.

Anyhow, the sleeping through the night is (seems like) the real MIRACLE today!!!!!

He slept All Night Long… (all night)…

All Night Looooooong!

Now if we can just get him out of the bedroom….  we’re gonna have a party… All Night Looooooooong!  Feel good, feel good…..