The reason I haven't blogged in five months is because I have been experiencing something I would describe as "CISD" (Constantly Interrupted Sleep Disorder), also known as "DORAHTCUWGA" (Deprived of Rest and Having Trouble Coming Up With Good Acronyms).
Yes, I just made that up; but believe me, it's real.
Oh yes. It is very real.
The side effects of this disorder include, but are not limited to:
- Missing spots when you shave your face
- Missing spots when you shave your head
- Missing spots (I'm sorry, I meant to say "stops") when you drive your car
- Missing opening prayers during worship services
- Missing contributions for visiting congregations during worship services (unfortunately, you had to be there)
- Missing entire months of the year (Where did September go? Did that month actually happen?)
- Missing belt loops when you put your belt on
- Missing belts when you put your pants on
- Missing pants when you put your clothes on (luckily, other people will help you remember this one when you have legs like mine)
- Missing words when you sentences
- Missing side effects of your own disorder (I know I'm forgetting something...)
Am I saying that my baby is a bad sleeper? No, I'm not saying that.
I did not say that. Did you hear me say that?
Seriously...did I say that? I mean, I may have, because I have forgotten most of what I've typed so far already.
Actually, in the grand scheme of things, she is probably a great sleeper. I wouldn't dare compare the sleep habits of my child with someone else's because I know that there are other situations where babies sleep much, much, much, much less than mine (was that enough "muches"? I can never be sure).
But it does sort of drain you. If you have kids, you understand. If you don't, may I please come to your house and take a nap?
The joys of parenting are too numerous to mention, but the job of having two little kids under the age of 2 is no joke whatsoever.
When someone warned me, "This is going to be a lot of work", I said, "I know." What a stupid thing to say.
I didn't know.
I know nothing.
Actually, I think I know less than I did when I started, if that's possible.
I can actually feel my IQ getting smaller and smaller every night. It's like the intelligence is just seeping out of me somehow. I forget stuff all the time. I'm afraid that by the time my children have an actual question for me, my brain is going to be mush.
"Daddy, where do trees come from?"
"Trees."
"Yes, trees. Where do they come from?"
"Trees."
"Oh boy. Mom! Dad is stuck again! Get the spray bottle!"
I even catch myself incorporating "baby talk" into my adult conversations sometimes.
"What can I get you to drink, sir?"
"Let's see here....I'll have foffee."
"Excuse me?"
"Daddy foffee."
"Sir, do you mean 'coffee'?"
"Daddy foffee. Hot foffee. No, no."
"Oh boy. Flo.....get the spray bottle!"
I have actually started calling cats "meows" because that's what Ava calls them and if I want her to understand me, I have to speak her language.
I think I asked a friend of mine last week if he wanted to go "beep beep". I meant to say, "Let's take my car to lunch", but it just didn't come out that way.
I was counseling someone in my office recently and when they began to cry about their problems, I said, "would you like some chocolate milk?". Strangely, they immediately stopped crying, looked at me with big eyes, and nodded "Yes". That one might actually translate into a real-life application.
In all seriousness, I have enjoyed every single minute (even the ones in the middle of the night) of being a parent. It is truly a gift from God and I wouldn't trade a single second of it. I love my wife and my two beautiful little girls very much and the adventure that lies ahead of us is truly exciting.
I hope to blog more about it in the future, if my brain will cooperate.
The bottom line, I suppose, is that I apologize for not blogging and I hope that this feeble explanation is good enough to get me back in your good graces and to get you reading again.
If not, I have 6 gallons of chocolate milk at my house and as soon as I remember my own address, you can come get some.
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