Well, the blogger and his girls survived the weekend without the wife/mom. There were only a couple blow-ups each day, most involving M. refusing my orders to 1) Keep her hands off of her sister’s head, 2) stop touching her sister’s face, 3) stop pushing/pulling her sister, or 4) just getting the hell away from her sister. At least we were both consistent, me in my orders and her in her refusal to follow them.

The weekend was helped greatly by one of my sisters-in-law dropping by for about 90 minutes Friday afternoon so I could get out of the house alone for awhile (I went to Border’s and bought <a href=”http://www.soulofbaseball.com/”>Joe Posnanski’s book</a>) and then again on Saturday so my friend Coach Hebs and I could watch the KU and Purdue games. (A big shout out to Coach Hebs, who both tracked down some tremendous barbecue for the games and is in the middle of a 14-day stretch with his two girls while his wife is out of the country. Four days is no sweat compared to that. Hang in there, Coach!). Then Sunday, we ran down to her house briefly to drop off a bed frame for her roommate, which meant M. could run around there for awhile.
When S. arrived home, happy and slightly tanned after her time in Arizona, she found a house that wasn’t totally destroyed, although it had been rearranged a bit. For example, we have a fake tree, I don’t know what else to call it, in our living room. C. loves to crawl over to it, hoist herself up, and start pulling out the long fibers that make up the tree’s bed. So Thursday morning, nearly first thing, as I’m in the kitchen cleaning some bottles or getting M. some milk or something, I look in and see C. with her arms elbow deep, just pulling crap out like it’s her job, a big, slobbery grin on her face. Making matters worse, on the other side was M., who was pulling on the tree’s leaves. I shouted loud enough to make them both jump, ran in, forcefully disengaged their hands, and proceeded to drag the tree out to our sunroom, where it still sits safely behind the door. M. didn’t really care, she went about her other business. C., however, was very upset. She crawled over to the door (it’s a windowed door that looks from the living room out to the sunroom), stood against it, and yelled while smacking her palms against it for about five minutes.
In our basement, we have a sectional couch and large, square ottoman that faces the TV. C.’s been crawling up to the TV, pulling herself up, and touching the screen, which makes me crazy. Friday morning, she was doing that as M. sat in front of the TV, pulling at the black mesh material that covers the speakers. Not good. There was more yelling and forced relocation of each daughter. I then pushed the ottoman up against the TV so neither daughter could directly access it. C., again, was frustrated. She yelled back at me for a minute, then crawled to the edge of the ottoman and leaned her body across it, still trying to reach the screen. In about another month, she’ll be able to reach it, but not this time.
M., however, was impressed with my furniture moving skills.
“OOOOOOHHHH Daddy! Good job! You’re very strong, moving the people’s couch!”
I’m not sure why she called it the people’s couch, but it made me laugh. And she’s right, I am very strong.
S. was impressed too. When she came downstairs for the first time, she complimented me.
“I really like what you’ve done with the place!”
Before I could defend myself, by explaining why the furniture was moved, she cut me off, “Hey, whatever you had to do is fine with me.”
The only other downer to the weekend was the lack of sleep from my girls. C. took no naps longer than 60 minutes any day, and often just one nap in the morning. That made late afternoons and early evenings interesting exercises in keeping her awake and placated. Friday night/Saturday morning, she was up five times. I couldn’t remember if it was ok to give Benadryl to a kid who’s already on Motrin, so I held out until 5:00 when I finally gave her a half dose of Benadryl. That knocked her out until 8:30, but in the meantime, M. banged her head on the bedrail and woke up screaming at 6:45. Not a fun night. Saturday night/Sunday morning, C. did better. But I had confirmed it was ok to give her Benadryl so I dosed her at midnight when she woke for the second time. She slept until 5:00, I fed her and put her back into her bed with a couple toys. She woke me at 6:00, crying, so I topped her off and put her under her blanket. Next thing I knew, it was 9:30 and both girls were just waking up. Nice way to end the weekend!

Ocean of Noise from the album “Neon Bible” by <a href=”http://www.google.com/search?q=%22Arcade%20Fire%22″>Arcade Fire</a>