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2 years of Abel

January 18 was the second anniversary of my mommy’s hard work to meet me and hug me and stuff. This one must be pretty special because there was fun thing after fun thing after fun thing. It all started out with The Birthday Morning. I got an extra special greeting from Mommy with a song. Then she made me oatmeal – pretty much everyone’s favorite breakfast. Just when I thought it couldn’t get any better, Grampa comes out with a shiny balloon and a can of apple juice. A CAN of apple juice, folks.

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I’ve never had the opportunity to drink out of a can before. It made me feel so mature and responsible. Grampa must really trust me. He trusts me to hold on to it with one hand and not spill. I had total freedom to spill because there was no sippy thing for protection. But, as a mature person, you have to make hard decisions. A lot of times those hard decisions revolve around whether or not to spill something.

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Mommy and I made made these handsome/pretty birthday hats for everyone to wear throughout the day. The hat is handsome if you’re a man and pretty if you’re a lady. My friend Stephanie and I are perfect examples of how two similar hats can be both delicately pretty and utterly handsome.

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At night time, my mommy and daddy threw together a last minute buddy party. The only reason these mommies are in this buddy picture is because they have little buddies growing inside their bellies, hence the belly hats. Please focus on the buddies and the bellies. As pretty as their faces are, they simply aren’t buddies.

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Ice cream + everything on top + fire = a delicious and risky adventure.

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After every awesome birthday comes a normal boring day where it’s not a birthday anymore. Luuuuucky for me, I had a week of normal study and activity only to be surprised with ANOTHER birthday party at the end of the week. This one was for the fam. I’m a lucky guy, that’s for sure.

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Clean stuff

E-I-E-I-O and I were hanging out and since we’re boys, we ended up getting dirty and smelly in our armpits. And, I’m just going to be honest. I’m older than E-I, and I get more stinky. I’m not afraid to initiate bath time. Thankfully, E-I is understanding and totally willing to take time out and wash our arm pits.
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When it’s bath time, I like to get the boring cleaning stuff out of the way so that we can get to the important fun time. E-I was having a hard time focusing. He just wanted to bite on the black thing so hard that when I talked to him about getting clean, I saw his lip start to quiver. At that point, I changed the subject, stepped up, and began bathing him while he played. I felt like today was a big milestone for me as I had my first mature, pre-kid-man good thing.
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Lately everyone has been asking me the same question. How do you know when a baby-man’s hair is clean? You know what? That’s a tough question because baby-men have special and confusing hair. But, let me give you a tip from my experience. When you’re washing baby-man hair, it will seem fuzzy and stinky for a little while. You’ll think to yourself, “Wow, I’m really perplexed. How do I know when to stop?” Just keep scrubbing, scrubbing, scrubbing until you start to see a little swirl forming. Swirl rhymes with pearl, and pearls are very clean.

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I know what you’re thinking. Where’s the swirl on your head? May I remind you that I’m a pre-kid-man? My swirl pearl technique can only be applied to baby-men.

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When we were finished getting clean, I was ready to start playing new things. E-I, on the other hand, couldn’t stop thinking about that black circle thing. At first I was a little frustrated. But, soon I started to have friend feelings again and let him do what he thought was best. I decided to take the time to practice my blue cup crawl stroke. It’s a little move I created for those times when you want to exercise and have the freedom to drink at any split second.

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Did you know that I have a new cousin? His name is Dylan Alexander. I bought him this fun little silly guy to welcome him into the family. Honestly, I already know the silly guy’s name, but that’s really not my place. He’s not my silly guy. He belongs to Dylan now, and I need to respect his naming rights.

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I already have a Cuz D, so I’m really thinking carefully about what Dylan’s rap name should be. What I need to do is have Daddy beatbox for me while I rap stuff out of my head and heart. That’s when the good stuff always comes out. Until then, I’m going to call him D, D, the Honeybee.
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On Saturday when Auntie Heidi peekabooed D the Honeybee into the world, I started a new tradition. I decided that every new family member should be initiated with a teddy bear hug cuddle. But, at the same time I shoved him just a little so that he would know that we’re boys and we have to do roughy things too. My shove may have also been to let him know that I’m a pre kid man, and he’s not. Hey, I’m not being mean. When I was a baby-baby I totally remember wanting the pre kid men to shove me and stuff. It’s good to establish where we all stand, ya know?
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My initiation then got mushy again and I gave him a kissie on the cheek. Nothing is as it seems, so of course it was not a normal kissie either. At the end, I gave him a little zerbie so that he could know just how silly I am. Cuz D. has taught me everything I know about silliness, and I’m prepared to pass it on down the line.
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Splish Splash

A couple weeks ago it was the Sahara Desert outside, so the Vis’ welcomed a swimming pool into the family. You know what? It did end up being a bunch of fun, but I couldn’t help but start out the process a little on the grumpy side.

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Daddy thought he might ease the tension by surprising me with a hose spray. We weren’t exactly on the same page with how to cure my grumpiness, but like I said before the end result was good. Let’s let bygones be bygones.

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Still feeling a little unsure and not ungrumpy, I put on the good attitude hat and jumped in. Note: the good attitude hat is invisible and works gradually. That’s why my face still seems to have a bit of attitude. I had just put the hat on seconds before.

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This is many seconds later when the good attitude hat had completely kicked in. I was actually feeling quite overwhelmed with good attitudeness.
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So maybe I am even at the point where I’m proud of my little pool and like to invite buddies over to play. This is E-I-E-I-O. Of course you know by now that I usually introduce people first by their rap name. People who aren’t rappers call him Evan. I call him E-I for short because even rap names can be too long to actually use in everyday life.

You might be suddenly alarmed when you realize that E-I doesn’t have any swim trunks on. Well, E-I is a baby-man. He is very buff and brave-heart looking, so people often mistake him for a pre-kid. But, no, he’s a baby-man, and baby-men definitely aren’t held to the swim trunk code of ethics.
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Our mommies told us “time to get out.” As a baby-man, E-I’s first thought was “Oh no, how am I going to survive the bummerness of having to leave this fun pool?” But, as a pre-kid, my first thought was “hmmmmmm, there’s got to be some way to change their mind. Give me a second while I make my plan.”
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Most embarrassing moment

Everybody’s got to have a favorite most embarrassing moment. Well, unfortunately I haven’t had mine yet in my little life. Jabel Mustice, on the other hand, has already had several – many of which I’ve had the privilege of blogging about. Don’t worry. I do have his written consent on file.

Well, this one is a dusey, folks. It was our very first sleep over. We were peacefully sleeping when all of a sudden I wake up to sadful cries next to me. Jabel was wriggling all around like his tummy was really really owie. I promptly alerted Mommy. She always knows what to do in scary situations. She rushed him to the toilet thinking that maybe he just had to poo poo. (I repeat. I do have written consent). As he recounted later, sitting on the toilet really did feel much better. So better that he ended up falling asleep on Mommy! On the pottie! Oh man. I’m never going to let him live this one down.

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Leroy the new guy

Sorry for the suspense. I told you all that I’d share about my very first Christmas present, and then I just left you hangin’. Well, here he is. His name is Leroy. Mommy and Daddy say he’s my new best friend, but I’m not so sure about that. I’m the type of baby-man who needs a little time to warm up.

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Actually, I opened the present up, took one look, and said very politely “no thank you.” Apparently, that’s not how Christmas presents work. Honestly, he’s cool and all. I just feel a little threatened. You know how I get when a new teddy-guy comes on the scene. I’m always a little suspicious of teddy-guys and their possible Mommy-stealing motives.

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But I’m starting to think Leroy is alright. I think he could sense the tension and you know what he did in response? He gave me a kissie!

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I’m not ashamed to hand out a few kissies where kissies are due. So far I’ve only given kissies to Mommy, Daddy, Grandma, and Auntie Heidi’s dog, so I hope Leroy knows how much I went out on a limb for our new friendship.

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I know this looks a little over the top. But let me explain. Baby-men don’t give kissies like grown-ups do. We go straight for the nose and anything else that happens to get in the way of the nose. I open my mouth up as big as it can get because that’s how noses like to be kissied. I’m pretty sure I read that somewhere.

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All that to say, meet Leroy. It was an arranged friendship that started out rocky, then got kissie, then got rocky again, and now he’s sitting up in my Mommy’s closet until I don’t have the urge to bite his hair off. So, I guess you could say that we’re taking a break in our relationship. It’s not permanent, but I think it’ll be good for us to have some distance.

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First and Second Christmases

This is my very first Christmas present in my whole life. How many people can say that? I realize how special this is. I’m not telling you what it is though. I’m saving that for a future post. It’s just too important to lump in with this one. Sorry for the mystery.

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I’m going to go ahead and skip around here. I had my first Christmas with the Vis crew on the 23rd and my second Christmas with the Draayer tribe on the 25th. Yes, I know. I am wearing fancy shirts for both Christmases. Mommy prepped me about Christmas and how it’s so special and stuff. In response I picked out my two most shnazy button shirts and even laid them out on the crib the night before so they’d be less bumpy.

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Hmmm…I just noticed this. I seem to be matching Mommy on both Christmases. We could pretend that it was an accident. But, let’s be honest here. I know that mommies are in high demand, and I know my mommy is a keeper. Therefore, I always try to match my clothes to Mommy’s. I’m even willing to change if I see that we don’t go together. I guess you could say it’s my way of telling the other baby-men to back off and find their own mommy. This one’s stayin’ with me.

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Me and Daddy were minding our own business and enjoying the blazing fire when all of a sudden I turn around and there’s this 6 ft tall snowguy making stink eyes at me. I have to admit that I was intimidated at first. Give me some credit, I’ve never seen a snowguy before. How am I supposed to know who’s the alpha guy in this situation?

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I quickly looked back at Daddy, he gave me the “follow my lead” wink and we proceeded to show the snowguy exactly who’s in charge. Please don’t think I’m a meanie. When I say stink eye, I mean stiiiiiiink eye. He wasn’t giving me hug eyes – let me repeat – stink eye. A baby-man has to do what a baby-man has to do. Look the next time you see a 6 ft. tall snowguy and he lets you have the first choice from the cookie jar, you can thank me for setting the tone for all future snowguy/babyman interactions.

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I really didn’t want to, but everyone begged and begged me to play piano so that they could sing Christmas carols. I ended up giving in. I started to get really into it. When I get to that stage in my musicing I make this oh so serious “I’m a cool musicplayer” face. It lets people know that not only am I a talented piano player, but I’m an artist as well.

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Well, I invited that best friend of mine, Jabel Mustice, to come to my Christmases. I don’t know why he’s wearing that bow on his head. I bet he didn’t even know it was there. Some might think he looks kinda girly, but I think the bow makes him look extra handsome and courageous. I don’t know many baby-men who would be willing to let another guy’s mommy decorate his head.

Oh, by the way, I let him borrow my shirt when he opened presents. He showed up to our house in a t-shirt cause he didn’t realize how special Christmases are. After I sat him down and explained everything, he was so embarrassed. I just had to help a friend out.

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Guy time

Last week I got to hang out with one of my favorite buddies, Evan. The daddies decided that it would be good for us to have a little cuddle time. Ya know what, guys? That’s sweet.

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Buuuuuut,, you can only be sugar and molasses for so long. Then you have to start breaking a sweat again. I said, “Pssssst. Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Evan grinned, and we both screamed out at the top of our lungs, “Tackle football!!!”

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The coin toss is a serious matter. This is the only time you have to size up your opponent. I know what you’re thinking – Abel, you’re twice his size. What do you have to worry about? Look. Don’t underestimate the Evanator. He might be compact, but will you look at the size of those thighs? He’s not going to catch me napping. I’m on to him.

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Despite the smell of competition all around us, I knew I needed to step up as the older baby-man. Even if you want to win, you can still be a good sport. I like to break the ice with a good old fashioned high five. Don’t think Evan’s being a meanie. He did respond. It’s just takes him a while being a baby-baby and all.

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I didn’t want to say this, but I’m going to go ahead anyway. Yeah, I let him have the first tackle. I just wanted him to start the game out feeling encouraged.

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Then it got ugly. Evanator, isn’t there a rule that you can’t tackle someone two times in a row?

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I ended up calling a time out. I just really needed a team huddle with myself to get pumped up again.

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In my huddle I decided that every good man needs another man by his side. So, we asked the daddies to join in. I do seem to be at the bottom of the tackle again, but that’s just because I always have the ball. I do lots of crazy and tricky things. I would tackle me too if I were on the other team.

Let me take this opportunity to give you a few pointers on dog piles.

1. You never know when someone might be taking your picture. Always be ready with a smile.

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2. At the same time, you need to balance your smiles out with rugged football faces like this one. It makes for a good newspaper picture.

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3. Always, always remember to stop and smell the roses. For example, I was so busy being tackled and making the appropriate faces that I almost missed this so cool blade of grass in front of me. Thankfully I did see it and spent the necessary time enjoying it.

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My Best Bud

Look, I know I’ve called a lot of people my best friend. I realize that can be confusing. Please don’t be offended if you are one of those people. Know that I love you all. My heart is big enough for many best friends of all different shapes and sizes. But this is different. Meet Cuz D. That’s just his slang name. His scientific name is Dominic, but that’s way too many syllables. I prefer to be more efficient.

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I look up to Cuz D. He’s already a full grown kid-man. There’s a lot that goes into arriving at that stage, and I’m not afraid to throw around a little R-E-S-P-E-C-T.

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There’s also not that many people who would understand the persistence of my mommy’s camera. When we’re both tired of smiling, Cuz D gives me a little squeeze. We both know that squeeze means, “Dude, I’m tired too, but we can do this. Just one more grin.”

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That kind of encouragement is just what I need. We both perk up, take it like kid-men, and give Mommy the best smiles she’s ever seen.

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Ok, you think I’m a ham? Where do you think I learn all my skills? Meet my mentor, Mr. Easter Ham with stuffing and mashed potatoes!

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Cuz D always finds a way to be there when I need him most. For example, we were crossing the street today. In all the commotion, no one even thought to hold my hand when we crossed the street. Seriously, what if I found a lady bug in the middle of the street and had to bend down and look at it. I’d be a street pancake! But, Cuz D looked over, assessed the situation, and quickly remedied it with a very professional “cross the street” hand hold. Thanks, Cuz D, I can always count on you.

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Still goin’ strong

Days without incident: 21

That’s right folks. Three weeks and no poopie diaper. Just in case you don’t believe that a baby-man my age could achieve such a feat, I found this picture of my best friend Jabel Mustice. He happens to be the exact same age as me with the exact same talents and abilities. That’s why we’re best friends, I guess. Me, I’m too embarrassed to post a picture of myself on the potty. But this guy is fearless.

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