Big and Little C

It occurred to me, after reading a previous post, that I should probably distinguish between C the husband, and C the child. Let's be clear -- I'm not the person who lets an adult scream at her for an extended period of time (or likely any period of time). Obviously, the screaming C from the Baby Ambien post is Little C. By modifying this moniker, C the husband naturally becomes "Big C." 

This is only a default reference to his size since he is obviously bigger than a 14lb infant - Big C is not a large man. Just wanted to get everyone on the same page.

Now... last night was quite the comedy of events. I don't know how many of you have (or have had) babies, but I once read that putting a baby down for bed is a lot less like the Pampers commercials and a lot more like wrestling a 20lb bag of snakes. I'd have to agree. The boys are big enough now that they are much too busy to be bothered with cleaning/changing of any sort. If we only knew how many things they needed to do, surely we would understand their plight. 

To complicate matters, our boys have recently learned that their head is a powerful tool when they want to move. L can turn his head and somehow harness the momentum and flip his entire body in roughly two seconds. He employed this technique repeatedly while Big C was getting him ready for bed. Now, the video is only a few seconds long, but don't be fooled. This battle royale commenced for about 10 minutes. 

Pretty sure they were both sweating by the time L actually had a dry diaper, clean pajamas, full belly, and was laid down for the night. I know I was, but it was probably from laughing till I couldn't breathe. 

Still C.

Last night I announced my dive into the blog world to C, which typically would have been something that he wouldn't particularly care about (outside of the "you're-my-wife-so-I-have-to-care" sense). I asked if he wanted to read it, to which he replied "Do you want me to read it?" Now, this could have been the point where I yelled "I want you to WANT to read it!" (Jennifer Aniston in The Break Up - "I want you to WANT to do dishes!" style). Alas, I kept my cool and said "No, it's not a big deal." Then I casually mentioned that I told the world nice things about him. Consider his interest peaked.

As a general rule, I hate for people to read things that I have written. Why, you may ask, have I chosen to write a blog that is available for anyone fortunate enough to have an internet connection to find and peruse and judge at will? Ha.. Wish I had an answer for you. Maybe I miss my college writing classes (Hi Dr. Ball!) or maybe I enjoy pretending that anyone really cares what I have to say. It's basically impossible to know for sure. I'm just hoping the comments aren't too harsh and hateful. And if they are, well, I have the power to delete them. Touche.

Back to last night... Once C knew he was mentioned in the ever-living internet world, he suddenly wanted to read the blog I spoke of. (Side note - I struggle to say the word "blog" and keep a straight face. It just sounds ridiculous in my head, much less when actually spoken aloud. Blog. I just can't get past it.) I gave him my phone and proceeded to bury my face under my pillow and wait for his likely-ornery response. It went a little something like this:


C: Why am I "C?"

Me: Well, I didn't know if you'd be ok with me broadcasting your name across the internet. I'm respecting your privacy.

C: Don't!!

Me: What? Are you crazy?

C: Don't! Tell them my whole name! Even use my middle initial.. I want everyone to know how nice I am.

Me: What? Seriously?!

C: TELL THEM MY NAME!


Not exactly the reaction I was expecting, but nonetheless, my first feedback was positive (read "positive" as "not negative, so let's call it a win"). And I've decided he will remain C. Partly because I do want to maintain some degree of privacy. Mostly because I can. I told you he's nicer than me.