abel’s home

Keeping warm

I heard about this thing called the 80’s. I’m not quite sure what that is, but anything that is always preceded by the word “the” is usually pretty important. So, I’m going to have to go with my instincts on this one and assume that I should jump on board. I did some research on how to make the 80’s a part of my everyday life. Leg-warmers were first on the list in many of the scientific journals I was reading. I studied the pictures and definitions and realized that I can easily make my own leg-warmers with a few household items. Let me walk you through this recipe*:

*Please note that this will only work for people under 3 feet.

1. Find a pair of your daddy’s tall, cozy socks.
2. Hold them up to your leg to make sure they are long enough to adequately “warm”. Just because it’s summer doesn’t mean we should take warm for granted.
3. Put one sock on each leg all the way up to your buns if you can. Leg-warmer motto “The warmer the better, the longer the tetter.” (Rhyming is more important that real words).
4. The 80’s leg-warmers have the feet cut out. But, you have to make fashion your own, otherwise it’s not art. I choose to leave the feet on so that my piggies can be warm with my legs. Also, I’m not sure that’s a good way for Daddy to find out about my new ideas.

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Easter – remembered

It’s so obvious that these are old pictures. My hair is much shorter and so is my bod. But, Easter was so much fun that I couldn’t resist recounting the story. We had an Easter egg find. I know that eggs don’t seem to have much to do with Jesus, but that’s because you haven’t dove beneath the surface on this one. Let me get deep and philosophical with you for a sec. Jesus is God. God created chickens and therefore eggs. God also created foodstuff which evolved into candy. There you have it. Jesus is awesome, so awesome. He died on the cross and came alive again. And, he created eggs and candy sort of. So, maaaaaybe eggs and candy can help us celebrate the true meaning of Easter….ya know, because Easter has to do with Jesus and eggs have to do with Jesus.

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Or maybe not. You know what? I’m not so good at finding and keeping Easter eggs anyway. I think I’ll just stick to hams and hallelujahs.

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Family Vacation

Nine kids + Grampa + Gramma + aunties + uncles + lots of water + yummy snacks + mud + water guns = Fun Run Mun. Folks, you know I only rhyme when I mean it.

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I know that this picture doesn’t exact portray Fun Run Mun. But let me introduce you to the face entitled “The Boat is Serious Stuff”. Right when you enter the boat there’s padding you need to add to your manfit. There are several purposes for this important article:

1. When you jump into the water or fall off something, it swims you back up to the surface. Very efficient.
2. Often in lake circumstances you encounter strange and dangerous animals that are so big. In such scenarios you want to make yourself look so humungous that you nonverbally communicate “Step off like it ain’t no thing.” But, inside you have so many sad and worried thoughts going through your head and don’t have the energy to puff up. That’s where the boat pads come in handy.
3. When you’re ready to take a nap, you really don’t need to move at all. Simply shut your eyes and your head will remain completely supported in every direction. I’m actually thinking about presenting this in my next nap time board meeting. Imagine the possibilities.

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After what seemed like a million minutes, I finally convinced Mommy to let me take her on a tube ride. At first she was so nervous that she hung on to my boat pads so tightly. You know what? I know what works for my Mommy, so I started to sing our favorite song. “The Lord told Noah there’s gonna be a floody floody…” Pretty soon I saw her head start to bob and fingers start to snap as she couldn’t help but be made unafraid. I think I need to write this one down in her Mommy book.

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Pretty soon, she was having so much fun singing and riding. I, on the other hand, prefer knee boarding and daring things like that. Once I knew she was comfortable, I simply laid my head down to take a little nap. You see! I told you those boat pads are going to be revolutionary for nap times!

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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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Honeybee

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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Beach like a man

We went to the beach not so long ago. Look – There’s a toughy way and a softy way to do the beach. I have nothing against softies. I have a softy side, but I have control over when to use it and when to leave it in the car. For this particular beach experience, I needed to leave it in the car.

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When you’re being tough, you have to naturally let sand get all over you. No froofy beach towels are necessary. You don’t even need a bathing suit because your clothes are supposed to get messy and wet in this situation.

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When you’re tough, please, still take out moments to ponder. It’s very toughy to ponder especially when it has to do with seaweed that you find on the beach. There are many things to think about regarding seaweed-type stuff, and I wouldn’t want anyone to miss that opportunity.

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Let me show you a close up of my piggies. Normally you would like to have your piggies visible, clean, and smelling like piggies should. Well, at the beach – in a toughy situation that is – make sure they are hardly recognizable, overly dirty, and smelling like beach stuff. Bonus: when you’re a pre-kid man, you don’t usually have any manly leg hair and stuff. Sand all over makes a great substitute! Don’t be afraid to try this out.

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Oh! I haven’t even mentioned my monkey back pack. Every toughy needs a backpack when you go out-of-doors. You never know when you might need a flashlight, cheerios, a crayon, book, or a rock. Always be prepared.
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Doing my part

“Helper” is my middle name. Actually, Justice is my middle name, but that’s kinda like helping, right? I like to bring justice to our household in little simple ways like putting various things in the trash, putting other various things in the diaper pale, putting more various things in the potty, and then of course vacuuming. Whenever I hear the hum of the vacuum, I get this tinge of Justice between my other two names that compels me to immediately locate my vacuum and join in on the campaign.

I know, I know. You’re probably thinking, Mr. Abel, you’re only a pre-kid-man once. Enjoy your toys and snacks. Well, I have one thing to say to that. Not everyone has Justice as their middle name, so I need to take my role seriously whether it’s in the household or in saving a sweet bunny from getting pricked by a thorn bush, for example.

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The Boy Who Cried “Boo-Boo”

Let me tell you a powerful story I heard recently. It really convicted me.

“There once was a sweet, white haired baby named Gabel Rustice who was often placed in his crib to take naps. Gabel did not particularly like these naps and was constantly thinking of ways to get out of his crib. One day it occurred to him that whenever he asked to go poo-poo, everyone in the house took it very seriously. ‘I will simply have to go poo-poo every time I’m put down for a nap.’

The next day he tried out this fantastic idea. Mommy laid him down in the crib with a ‘night night.’ Before she could even start her exit, Gabel sat up in bed, made the hand sign for poo-poo and said very articulately, ‘boo-boo.’ He could see the surprise in her face. Of course she would take him to the potty. Once on the potty, Gabel talked about duckies and smiled lovingly but no poo-poo. Mommy put him back in the crib.

The next nap Gabel was ecstatic to try the same approach. When Gabel first did his poo-poo sign and ‘boo-boo’ words, Mommy said, ‘No-no. Go to sleep.’ But every time Mommy looked in, Gabel was diligent in continuing his hand sign and special word. Eventually, Mommy gave in and brought Gabel to the toilet. No poo-poo.

The next day when nap time rolled around again, Gabel was confident in his methods. However, this time was different. He really did have to go poo-poo. Over and over he signed and talked about poo-poo, but Mommy wouldn’t listen. ‘Wait a second,’ he thought, ‘I really do have to go poo-poo. Why isn’t she taking me? I’m sad now.’

After the nap was over, Mommy entered the room and the whole room was stinky. Gabel had gone poo-poo in his diaper! As she changed his diaper, Mommy lovingly explained that if little boys always cry poo-poo with no poo-poo, then when the real thing comes along no one will believe them.”

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Sum sum sum-a-time

Summer means a couple of things.

1. You’re allowed to get wet whenever you want.
2. You’re allowed to go outside without shoes.
3. You don’t have to wear a shirt.
4. You smell like sunshine almost always.
5. Your hair gets whiter and your skin gets goldener.

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6. And, for those times when you do have to go away in the car, you have to break out those summer flip flops.

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My favorite

I have a perfectly sound reason for eating dirt. Buuuut, I’m actually not going to tell. A pre-kid man has to keep some mysteries from the blogging world. Otherwise you might think you have me all figured out. You’d generalize that to all pre-kid men, and suddenly the world becomes a much duller place. No folks. I’m doing this for my fellow pre-kid men everywhere. We are exciting, and we will remain that way – thank you very much.

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If you think my preference for dirt is strange, you’re in good company. My mommy is the best company there is, and she doesn’t like it either. Every time I take a taste she says a big “no-no.” I hear her, and don’t want her to feel sad at my actions. So, I take it to heart and think, “Alright mister. Don’t do that again.” But pre-kid men forget sometimes when exciting things are involved.

When I see a pile of dirt, I really do think there’s a faint “no-no” hiding in the back of my head. That’s probably why when I do it I have the urge to be sneaky and quick shove it in my mouth when no one’s looking. Once Mommy says the out loud “no-no,” that’s when I realize what previously occurred in my head and thought process. Someday it will all connect.
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