spiders and tree frogs

I was sitting on the couch watching a movie with Cora and I hear Cole say in the other room: "Dad, there is a spider in here."

We usually drop what we are doing when the kids say stuff like that because they cannot tell the difference between the bad ones and the really bad ones (there are no good ones). Fortunately, this was a very small one that I was able to dispatch with a shoe. My first smack was more of a glancing blow and five or six little specks flew off the spider.

I felt sick when I realized the little specks had legs and were scurrying away from me. They were little spider babies that were clinging to the back of the original. Revolting.

We take the good with the bad though. A few nights ago, I was walking to our bedroom and saw this little guy hopping down the hallway.

that is not a whistle

Text from Mary: "Cora could teach pigs to squeal."

Our daughter has a talent for the agonizingly intolerable upper register of the human auditory experience. Aside from the tantrums, she also favors singing and squeaking in bird-like fashion.

What age do you teach kids to whistle?

I remember showing Cole the difference between whistling and singing right around the time our house was obsessed with Mary Poppins. I don't know if the same thing triggered it with Cora, or if she heard me whistling. Either way the following exchange happens a few times a week:

Cora: "Dad, this is a whistle. 0000000000000" (imagine wine glasses shattering)
joe: "no. that is not a whistle. this is a whistle. whooooooooooooo" (I wasted three minutes of my life trying to figure out how to put a whistle into text and that is the best I could come up with.)

That goes on for a little while until I try to show her the different placement of my tongue for singing a note versus whistling. I try to describe what areas in my mouth and throat the tone originates. I take one of her fingers and put it in front of my lips to show her that more air comes out when I whistle.

Despite my efforts, she will smile, nodding her head in agreement, and continue singing and insisting that she is indeed whistling.

My current diversion tactic to get off the subject is to start winking at her and she will then accurately imitate my winking which is both cute and quiet. I win.

Rainbow Beach

We went on a brief holiday to Rainbow Beach and this photo encapsulates the experience:
1. Mary and I forgot to pack the camera, so all the photos were taken with my phone.
2. It was windy and cold by Queensland standards (Cole's hair doesn't usually stand on end). Most days we walked along the beach instead of swimming in the ocean.
3. After I was finally able to relax and get used to the idea of being on vacation, we were all happy and enjoying ourselves.
4. I maintained a low personal grooming standard.

This is Inskip Point at low tide.
Above, is a rare side shot of the belly. Eight weeks to go. Mary is a champion. She is so diligent with the food she eats and all the other stuff that goes along with incubating a human. [entymological note: I will be using the less specific definition of incubate which refers to maintaining the environment of growth and development and not the direct Latin "to lie down on" root of the word.]

On Sunday we went to Underwater World to look at sharks and other aquatic life. In my view of the ocean, you are either a shark or food for sharks. Although, the kids and I were recently watching some sweet video of an orca taking down a great white; we just don't get enough orca action off the coast of Brisbane for me to include them in my philosophy.

The aquarium was good value and I could have spent hours hanging out in the tunnels watching fish swim over my head. Their extensive collection of tree frogs was a personal highlight. And thankfully, we have yet to see Cora develop any rare illnesses from the water she drank out of the the turtle exhibit.

one billion

We got back from vacation last night and I spent the morning at home to help ease the transition back to my desk. I will post a few photos soon.

So far this morning, I have explained how large one billion is to Cole, which I thought would give him something to contemplate, but he followed it up with asking for a concise summary of our monetary system. We discussed bills of exchange and how counterfeit notes affect inflation. The conversation then turned to the bartering system and opportunity cost for goods and services.

It was exhausting.

I am by no means proclaiming how grand my parenting skills are by relating this to you because this is an exception; conversations like this could have happened every moment of our vacation. I found my self fatigued and responded to Cole's inquiries with rude requests for him to keep quiet and enjoy the scenery.

I am proud that I have a curious son, but I am also very happy to be back at my desk where I can write e-mails and answer my clients' questions succinctly without cross examination. My wife, no doubt endures this daily and I have no idea how she copes. She tends to get the zingers like: "why did you make such a horrible dinner?" and "how is the baby going to get out?"