Jonas and the Ranmen

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The snows came and they settled in our driveway this past weekend, Babies Rangirl and Ranboy. And in true New York fashion, not one neighbor offered a hand or at least shape a path for our sidewalk with their fancy snow plows. Nope, there’s a clear line where their plowing ended- along with the annual gift baskets we give. 

  
Just remember little girl and Baby Ranboy- your pops wasn’t as slow and fat as you see him whilst reading this post in the future. I had like a 2 pack-of-abs thing going, and the strength of 20 5 year olds (no, not 25 year-olds). So I shoveled our driveway and sidewalk by my lonesome. And I won winter with no machines (since the snow thrower we do own can barely fling a cat, sadly). 

“I’m like a modern day superman!” I exclaimed. 

“Yes, you are,” Mommy Ranman said in that tone she uses with you kids when you’re seeking acclamation for picking up the same toy we yelled at you about two days prior. 

The Jonas blizzard ensured we were stuck with you two for a longer weekend than we asked for. Even though we were able to ship you off to Grandpa Ranman for a few hours on Monday, these kids have a great way making up for lost time. What’s the equivalent to “cabin fever”, but with kids?

Daddy’s little helper:   
 
Hot cocoa after hard work:  
And then there’s the attack on daddy, or the blizzard-in-the-house:

   
Followed by cheeks, which is 90% of my view since Baby Ranboy doesn’t appreciate you talking to him any higher than eye level:

 

New Year, New Daycare 

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Getting Baby Rangirl ready for her new daycare wasn’t as tough as I thought it’d be. Granted, I get help from a super-sleepy Mommy Ranman who has to get to bed earlier so that we can prep Baby Ranboy for his morning departure.  And sleeping early is so hard when all you want to do is yell at the TV whilst watching Netflix’s Making A Murderer. 

The biggest struggle with Baby Rangirl is convincing her that it’s too cold to wear a dress everyday in the middle of winter. 
The hipster vibe below was more novelty since she wasn’t going anywhere that day:

  
This ham of a kid loves her “princess dresses” and attention. I was actually trying to snap a pic of Baby Ranboy here:

  
I don’t know how we’re going to get Baby Rangirl excited about school. The new daycare was disappointed she couldn’t write her name at the age of 3, and she gets 1st grade level homework. 

Like her dad, all she wants to do is #playandchill. 

   

Christmas Wrap Up

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I feel as though the number 3 repeats itself in our recently-formed family. We rely on TV as a third parent, we brace for hell when Baby Rangirl doesn’t get a nap in by 3PM, our life goals now include avoiding a third child…and so on. 

This “three” concept extends to Christmas. Baby Rangirl and now Baby Ranboy get 3 Christmases. Or “Christmasais”? I never had to pluralize the word Christmas before kids. 

That includes gifts from ALL parents (grandparents all the way through actual parents). In addition you have the aunts and uncles with no child of their own + indisposable income. That equals little real estate in the house, along with the Mommy Ranman declaration of a war on gift-receiving. 

Baby Rangirl: here’s your fake Santa eating cookies:

   

And you giving into the hype at 3 years-old:

    
  

How about a cat at Mommy Ranman’s former childhood home? First cat/living organism who didn’t find your whining overly high-pitched:


How about a set of blocks you’ll only play with once?
  

If you’re a parent , you’ll understand:

  

Fine…it is cute watching you believe in the fat guy:
   

 And receiving gifts you’ll play with once at max:  
   

  

The Third Parent

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I’m a believer in letting the television do its job helping raise our kids when I have no one else to shut them up when an emergency comes up. Said emergencies can range from a trip to the potty or eating my already cold meals. I don’t know why I even bother heating up my food when I know these 2 monsters aren’t into granting the chance at a room temperature meal. 

Naturally the TV will show only educational shows…but there’s only so much Daddy Ranman can tolerate:

Mommy Ranman doesn’t approve us playing WWE wrestling games with all the scantily clad women and violence taking place…  
 
Meanwhile, Baby Ranboy is digging the football; though I don’t think he’s supposed to watch TV until he’s 2:

  

…and what daddy’s girl wouldn’t be complete without her own iPad? My Netflix suggestions are all messed up from shows already viewed such as Narcos and Sesame Street:

  

Time for Helicopter Parenting?

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I watch our kids as best as I can without falling asleep. It’s the best they’ll get until we can carry on a great conversation on planning dinner or what I want to do for Father’s Day. Until then- if it’s me versus 2 then I get a little parenting help from Mr. Nickelodeon to sedate Baby Rangirl while I can drum up the patience to discuss the latest in gibberish talk with now 4 month-old Baby Ranboy. 

One night I decided to take them both on at once: getting Baby Rangirl into her sleep clothes while holding the increasingly heavy Baby Ranboy. And as a result, I wasn’t there in time to catch Baby Rangirl from falling off her bunk bed. She was standing and lost balance.  

The girl is tough – the crying lasted for only a minute. In trying to get to the fallen tike I had to find a place to stuff Baby Ranboy. I laid him on a nearby kiddie couch where he slowly descended into a toppling-over position. I had to run back and grab him, not quick enough to realize I could have easily just tossed the little dude onto the same bed Baby Rangirl just fell off. Perhaps the bed was now my mortal enemy in my eyes. 

So to confirm Baby Rangirl/Ranboy…this is the definitive moment when I ensure you’re always by my side. I was a cool dad for almost 4 years. You want to go on the swing at the playground? Negative. My awkward body can’t fit in there with you. 

 Trip to the Home Depot? You’re riding with me. 

   
 

Dress you in disguise? Yes please- wards off unwanted creeps:

   

Parental supervision for the both of youse in scary fun houses? Oh yah:

   

  

Next issue we’ll tackle? Not being there 24/7, thus the mounds of gifts we’ll be buying out of guilt. 

   

Winding Down at 3

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You’re really a cute kid, Baby Rangirl. Really. Just…just lovely. 

Hourly visits to our bedside during the night isn’t creepy at all. Nor is it the leading cause for sleep deprivation in 2-out-4 adults in our household. You’re swell. 

And the constant interruptions during mommy and daddy’s conversations via knock-knock jokes? Especially ones you cutely botch at the punchline? Not a nuisance at all. 

But…just for poops-and-giggles: how about we have a look at this chart which sums up our current living situation, shall we? A mere look into where you stand at the age of 3:

  
Let’s see what 4 years of age brings in a couple of months. 

Now, some pictorial updates. 

Here’s you helping mommy blow out her own birthday cake…because you know. You’re the center of it all. As per Mommy Ranman, she’s still 29. Around the age when you can date, coincidentally. Note: the booze was not for you.  
And here you are, trying to eat your bro.  

 
And then there’s the time your baby bro protested that we weren’t feeding him enough:

  
Finally, the early stages of what now must be your dungeon—I mean my old mancave. Hope to have it toy-free as long as possible! 
  

Halloween Wrap Up

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I certainly feel our daughter’s one work day of the year is starting to pay off. Halloween candy is an accepted form of pay in the Ranman household. However, your stock goes down when you latch onto some imitation Batman:

  
Granted, it’s cute walking Baby Rangirl and her bestie on the block from door to door…but Batman’s need to ring all 20 door bells despite being some not being decorated for Halloween – just…argh! 

Points deducted for Baby Rangirl not putting her princess feet down and noticing her father being over the holiday. She naturally chose to ring as many bells as Batman. 

And poor little Baby Ranboy. Homie was bored out of his mane. Or cub head. Sorry, I have no clue what he was dressed as- lion? Bear? Sleeping sack of cute?

  
Needless to say, 1 week later and we’re still swimming in candy- and in a few weeks: debt. That’s one pool Baby Rangirl has learned to float in: right after Halloween we received the ToysRus big book of toys. With a $200 princess castle. Which is the only thing she wants. She circled the toy with engineer-like precision. But ask her to write down the letter “A” and she’s as coordinated as a snail trying to write for the first time. 

When did Halloween become so unfun? If you’re reading this blog post in the future Baby Rangirl (or Teenage Rangirl?), you better be able to locate and play with that castle on demand. I don’t care if you’re too old. Who cares what the mean girls at school will say? I want your Barbies conducting a $200-worth tea party with Ken playing some of my favorite tunes in the common area of the castle. 

Pains in my butt. 

  

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