Mommy says knock you out!

April 4th, 2011

There comes a time in a mans life when he has to admit something to himself. A time in which a man comes through with the truth, fess up. This is one of those times. I really feel that if I am just honest with myself, I can reap the benefits of an honest life.....so here goes. My son is the strongest baby alive! There I said it, wait, it feels weird, but a good weird. Oh my gosh this is so liberating. I feel that all this weight has been lifted and the heavens are opening up to shower me with peanut butter cups and beer. Okay let me pause to regroup (pausing...) Maybe I am getting carried away. I know you are thinking this dad's lost it, but I know it will never shower beer or Reese's. However, it does not stop me from wondering, how strong can a baby be...how strong should he be? I keep thinking that I should call Guinness Book of World Records or send them a picture proving Ryan is the strongest baby in the world. By the way I am talking physical strength, not odor potency ....you know...dirty diapers, but he did have that one...never mind. Do I really think he is the strongest kid ever, no, but that doesn't discount his strength. He has held his head up from day one, he kicks like a freaky Bruce Lee against a flock O ninjas and punches like Rocky Marciano in a street fight. He is not a lean, mean, fighting machine. He is more of a chubby, drooling pooping machine. I will confess though, he gives me a fit trying to fasten his diapers, "get your blasted leg down Ryan, I am tying to fasten your diaper!" I am going to have to start changing into my catchers gear just to change his diaper. He reminds me of one of those boxing kangaroo's that you see in a Charlie Chaplin film or a Little Rascals episode. You know the kangaroo that has on boxing gloves, balances on his tail and kicks the boxer in the ring. Funny right? Not if you are trying to close the diaper before your baby, pretending to be a cherub statue in a fountain, can pee on your shirt five minutes before you have to leave for church. Maybe i should find one of those kangaroo's and teach it to change diapers and to dress my little Chuckie Norris. My money is still gonna be on Ryan in this kangaroo match-up. The kangaroo has just three moves whereas Ryan has an infinite arsenal of kicks and jabs not to mention the secret weapon....the gas bomb. If this fight went down it would have to sounds something like this:


"Laaadies aaand Gentleman, we have a real treat this evening." "It is a battle of pooch vs pouch, wallaby vs poopie, marsupial vs mammal, joey vs. jowls, this is the big ticket match you have been waiting for all evening." "In the blue corner weighing in at 180 pounds with a record of 10-0 all in the form of knockouts, from the great down under (under where?) the Australian Stallion, Joey Kangaroooooooo!" "In the red corner, weighing in at a whopping 12 pounds 3.5 ounces with a record of 0-653 all resulting in diapers being fastened, from the home state of Orville Redenbacher, the Diaper Dominator, Ryan Carter Steeeeeennooooo!" From there it would be a whirlwind of well trained fighters fighting there hearts out. I can see the roo propping up on his tail going in for the double kick and Ryan dodging it because he is on the ground just swinging and kicking. Remember he is just a baby and he can not even walk or roll over yet. The kangaroo misses and the force would just swing him around, causing him to lose his balance and fall down. Just when the kangaroo realizes that he fell within two inches of Ryan's legs he can not react fast enough to escape the incoming kick. The kick causes the kangaroo to see stars. Remembering that his mommy/trainer just gave him Mylicon drops in the corner Ryan quickly conjures up the secret weapon. Releasing the gas bomb a few inches from the poor roo's snout. BOOM! the roo finds himself disoriented unable to continue. Just then the referee falls to the mat to give the 10 count when the fumes hit him. He becomes disoriented and passes out. After the bell rings, the air clears, and everyone comes to, Ryan walks...well is carried away with his first ever win by way of flatulent knockout. 


I guess we need to soak it in now, these are the sweet years. The times where his kicks are cute and can't cause damage. They cause funny splashes in the tub because he loves bath time. Kicks because he is so excited about being on the Beekman. He is growing before my eyes. I love watching him discover that he can kick the air and swing his little arms. He squawks and coos in laughter at himself. So I guess we will soak it in now because before we know it, he is going to be scuffing it up on the play ground, and it won't be so funny. Funny how I keep thinking he is growing up so fast, but just 9 weeks ago he was kicking and punching as the little joey inside mommy's pouch. (sigh)  I am over reacting, huh? Things are not really changing that fast, so I can put away the catcher's gear and the phone number for the Guinness Book people, for now. Too bad, I was really looking forward to the peanut butter cups and beer.