Bosom Buddies 

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It’s rough for a dad watching the struggles of breast feeding; you sit back with nothing to help alleviate the discomfort and on-demand supply. But that’s not why I’m jealous. Bond all you want with the kid-

But man do I wish I had functional boobs.

Baby Ranboy, like most boys who have yet to see a woman turn around,  is a boob man. He falls asleep in an instant on Mommy Ranman’s newly-filled bosoms but complains to no end when he lays on mine. And functionality? 

Mommy Ranman is dropping weight like crazy delivering the milk- all without doing a single sit-up or lap around the block. I’d love to sit back and watch the body get tight. 
Without a boob to stand on, I gotta work doubly hard to ward off the dad bod. 

It’s been only one time so far where this sucker finally gave up the mommy dependency and passed out on my boney ribs. Here’s the week in review:


Let’s also continue the rant on how this dude is still peeing all over the place. He actually shot from BOTH ends at simultaneously when I was changing a diaper. Don’t trust the calm before the storm.   

Meanwhile, Baby Rangirl is off making friends at the park and bringing home all sorts of sickness, currently on cold #8 of the year…

    Baby Ranboy is sneezing enough to get a rectal temperature check (sorry buddy) while Baby Rangirl is throwing up enough to get a machine attached to her at the doctor-


You kids are as much work as you are awesome with your colds and flying poop.


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Well Baby Rangirl, you’re a big sister. Baby Ranboy, chances are you’re reading this over the shoulder of your sibling thinking “heck yea- now this blog will pick up in its importance!” 

Slow your roll, boy. You gotta crawl before you can walk- and man is it going to be a slow crawl for us. 

First off, you dropped in at slightly over 8lbs- you know what that did to your mother? Poor woman needed hard pills in order to sit comfortably for more than 1 hour straight. And dude, you have not stopped eating since.  

Secondly. The poop. More food = more poop. 

Although to be fair I kinda botched your second shot at a bowel movement. 

“Ugh, I think I see poop in there,” I told your mother. 

“Already? Kid is barely a few hours old!”

“Um wait. My bad. Those are just his balls.”

Yea, sorry Baby Ranboy. Your man sack was so disproportionately bigger than your body- and significantly darker, too. Is that still a problem for you in the future? Hope you grew into everything okay. 

And lastly- the pee. Your mother and I have never dealt with a free willy that goes off at anytime like your own. You’ve peed on yourself at least 4 times in 3 days when changing your diaper. I had a way easier time with your sister, and that’s without owning lady parts of my own. 

This all on top of having Baby Rangirl question every last thing from mummy’s breastpumping to the freckle on her toe just to wrestle attention away from her little brother. I wonder what a therapist runs in cost these days. 

 Some pics from the past few days:

Baby Rangirl claiming every inch of the hospital room with The Little Mermaid playing on an iPad on my lap, to owning Mommy Ranman’s bed. Oh, Baby Ranboy gets his first Internet appearance. Let’s hope the distance between the two in this pic isn’t a sign of foreshadowing. 

I’m getting ready for birth with my Batman superhero socks. Because you know, it’s all about my courage when Baby Ranboy gets here. 

Mommy Ranman checking out the whopper she just crapped out. Poor kid will always be referred to as a “#2” in all jokes ever. 

This was the towel spread on the car seat before Mommy Ranman was allowed to get in whilst in labor. Brave piece of linen. 


Diva in Training 

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I’m not a dad who supports the idea of premonitions and predicting the future. But dammit WordPress is on point with its app:


My attempt to upload a pic of Baby Rangirl trying on a million pairs of shoes at the store is just a look into a hellish future of failed dreams to own a closet free from shoes that aren’t mine. 

You know Baby Rangirl, it was a nightmare trying to get you to commit to 1 pair of shoes. If it were up to you we’d get every Disney themed pair. If it were up to your mom and the cat you’d have your own wing in the house for shoes which she built off of the insurance money from my untimely-yet-convenient death. 

Look at her. All comfy living off the land.  

Look at her co conspirator…cleaning herself off my mat, wearing no pants around the house like she owns the place. 



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We bought Baby Rangirl a generic mermaid toy from the New England Aquarium last month when visiting Boston. Ever since then she’s been referring to the toy as “Ariel” from The Little Mermaid. 

But sometimes these kids develop intelligence. 
Baby Rangirl: I don’t want this toy. It’s not Ariel. 

Mommy Ranman: Why, what’s wrong with it?

Baby Rangirl: It doesn’t have pink boobs and a green tail like Ariel. 

When you’re right, you’re right. 

Boobs Gate has taken away the focus on “mommy has a baby in her tummy, I have poop in mine”. 

Signs the Baby Boy is on His Way

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Winter is coming. So is Baby Ranboy. 

  • My body is already preparing to get “Dad fit” by tossing out the weight bench to make room: 


  • Baby Rangirl is paving the way for Baby Ranboy by stomping on any bugs that may get into the house to ruin his fun:

Ok that last one is a stretch- I’m teaching Baby Rangirl to be less dainty despite her Rapunzel dress by scaring all sorts of bugs she typically fears. Yes, that is a Thundercats wrist band, I rocked them in my emo phase of life. Yes, that is a badminton racket. We were “jellyfishing” in lieu of Spongebob’s favorite pastime. 

  • The cat is getting ready by #occupyingbassinet:

Notice how we prepared for the cat’s invasion by spreading a sheet to protect against her elements. Isn’t it weird that humans have to wear clothes but a cat can stroll around pantsless?

  • The dryer’s lint trap is all blue:


  • Even the autocorrect is getting ready with “Ranboy” suggestions:

Da-hell is a “Rangy”?


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We’re still in the process of figuring out what will make a decent human being out of Baby Rangirl. One minute I’m threatening her with a timeout via standing on the potty until she does as she’s told; which seems to solidify her hate for me and future pooping issues. The next minute we’re high-fiving Baby Rangirl for coming up with clever lines. 

“Um, I know it’s rude to ask, but did you fart?” I asked my wife at the dinner table one night. 

“Dude, I was about to ask you that. Is it Baby Rangirl?”

I leaned in to smell the iPad-occupied kid who was finishing up her dinner. “Nope. She smells like laundry. Ugh I think it’s the cat?”

Cue in Baby Rangirl. “Mommy, what did daddy say?”

“Nothing Baby Rangirl. We smell something.”

Baby Rangirl takes in a whiff of air. “Daddy, you stink like poop.” Seconds later we found a pile of turd left by the cat on our floor. This cat can’t leave us soon enough. 

One time, we decided to listen in on one of Baby Rangirl’s conversations whilst she played with her toys. There was a mommy, a daddy, and a baby. Baby Rangirl would have the daddy say “stop doing that, you genius. That’s not smart. Genius”.

Mommy Ranman looked at me and we could tell I haven’t been using the word “genius” in the correct way at home. 

We’ll need to fine tune our parenting skills and get it right the second time around. Now, on to the pictures. 

 Playing at the arcades: 
Our first Yankee game together for Father’s Day…she didn’t last until the second inning: 
 Someone likes the candies from my barber: 
Happy 4th from our kid to you! Freedom has 3 states apparently.  

Keeping You On Track

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Our Baby Rangirl is on her way to leaving the nest. I almost want to get her well on her way with some tips:

  1. Boys are jackasses 
  2. Listen to mom and dad
  3. Men are douches
  4. Dating before the age of 29 is frowned upon
  5. Do all my chores

Well point #1 has fallen short. I need to bring you to this one boy in your daycare to assist me in dropping you off every morning. Else, I’m forced to beg you to stay in school because it’s good for you

Yea. “School is good for you” is a bunch of crap even when you’re 3 years old. 

Point #2? Fail. Grandma and grandpa has helped ensure that you are the spoiledest (is that a word?) in all the land. Well, we have another kid on the way. Guess we’ll chalk you up as a loss. Point #3 leads into why you adhere to #4. 

But then I got you back at #5: do my chores. 

I thought I’d post you watering the plants to help Mommy Ranman understand why I buy you all the toys made, ever. Today’s favorite character: Frozen. It’s been 1 week since you’re last Disney favorite: Tangled. That’s a change of +5 days Week / Week where you’ve maintained a love for a character, for those of you keeping stats at home. 

Well Baby Rangirl, enjoy your toys while I can still buy your love. 

Look at Olaf the snowman, trying to escape your death grip during slumber.  

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