Papa's Got a Brand New Bag . . . A Brand New POOP Bag!

Yesterday the babies did not have a great night of sleeping. Once we got them to bed I couldn't sleep anymore and then spent a few hours on the computer killing time until I was tired again.


Then I returned to the Wombats who had taken over the bed. I managed to find a small sliver of bed to sleep in then, after a short sleep, I found myself unable to wake up from exhaustion. I'm glad this is not a frequent occurrence for me or else I may be driven to insanity.

After having a day off Jen picked up the Wombats early from day care. When She got home she unloaded their bag and this is what she found:


When we opened the bag we found it was as advertised. Nicely labeled, day care ladies!


Jen let the babies play under the tree for a bit while we prepared their dinner.


Last night was their first night trying a new cereal: oatmeal. It's hard to tell it's oatmeal from all the other attributes plastered all over the container. In fact it took me about twenty minutes at the grocery store to even figure out which one was the oatmeal. This, sadly, was the most plain version available. I was moments away from just making some of the oatmeal we have for breakfast and pureeing it.


After an exceptionally messy feeding where Elliott spit and sneezed oatmeal all over my face we prepared the babies for a bath where Martin finally discovered the secret joy of splashing.


For dinner Jen made a giant pot of Bolognese sauce and we helped ourslef to a serving with some spaghetti and freshly baked bread.


With the pasta we had a rare wine, this 2010 Retorno Garnacha. It had been recommended to me and it was cheap, less than $10 a bottle. For the price (or any price) it was exceptionally tasty. Of course, I know very little about wine but I was heavily impressed.


Today, while I was at work, Jen sent me some pictures of the Wombats as they goofed around at home. This is a new personal favorite of the Bubses enjoying the simple joys of a day at home.


Then, of course, there was some hardcore ear-grabbing that transpired.


Apparently they also relaxed on the rocker while Jen attempted to organize their messy, messy nursery.


When I got home I played with them a while but they hadn't napped well and eventually they started to fade. Elliott, in particular, got into his classic sleepy pose, arms outstretched and ready to welcome sleep.


We fed them again.


We bathed them again as is completely necessary after the messy task that is feeding them. Jen was impressed by my dual-layer technique when preparing their bath towels so I can wrap one baby, remove, and move on to the second.

I'm all about operating efficiencies.


Tonight Jen made another huge batch of this Shrimp Provencal Casserole and we portioned off a little to have for dinner, again with salad and fresh bread. It was the perfect dinner to enjoy while being sporadically interrupted by Elliott who was furious that he kept spitting out his pacifier.

The injustice of it all.


For beer I had this L'Évêque from Micro-brasserie Saint-Arnould in Quebec. This is a beer Jen's father had brought us on his most recent visit. It had everything going for it: Belgian-style, a stained glass motif on the label, invoking Catholic church imagery. It was different than expected, lightly carbonated, with a slightly sour finish to it. I have a few other beers from this brewery so I look forward to comparing them.


Jen made some muffins today and with the leftover batter she had the idea to make this pancake. It was a banana chocolate chip muffin batter and we served it up with a scoop of vanilla ice cream. The sugars from the banana burnt a little in the pan but the end result was pretty tasty. It was like the poor teetotaler man's version of Bananas Foster.


Tonight, on the final night of Hanukkah, we relaxed and allowed our dinner of shellfish to digest while sorting through piles and piles of ignored mail from the past month or so. We also prepared for the inevitable post-dinner chore of cleaning the apartment to get it into a state where it is possible for us to walk around and function without tripping over things or stubbing our toes.

I broke my toe last week stubbing it on something or other and I bashed my shin on the dishwasher door to the point where it is bloody and black and blue. Perhaps some additional order may make living here a little more tolerable.

Or maybe I should just invest in steel-toed boots and shin guards.