The Return of Date Night

Date night, of course, means that someone’s gotta tend to Grand Finale…

Good News — Caroline and I are going out on a date tonight.
Bad News — I can’t remember the last time we went out on a date.

Good News — Caroline’s good at remembering stuff like that. So I asked her.
Bad News — Caroline did, indeed, remember and had this to say: “It was in December and you were a total jackass because your eyes were glued to that stupid football game the entire night.”

In my defense, it was the SEC Championship Game, so I sorta had to watch it. Plus, I laid the points and took the Tigers, and the number was in jeopardy until the very end of the third quarter.

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Healthy Baby. Now What?

Hate to bust out one of my favorite redneck-isms on you, but there’s no other way to say it — it’s been hotter’n dammit lately. And whenever it’s hotter’n dammit, our upstairs gets a bit toasty. And the triplets had a tough time falling asleep last night thanks to all that toastiness. And, perhaps, to a bit of sassiness as well. Which meant that Caroline and I made countless trips up the stairs to tend to them on the very night that, as misfortune would have it, we finally crashed from the adrenaline high that Grand Finale’s arrival had temporarily provided us.

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The Island

I hear you. At least I think I do. So I look to see if your mouth is moving. But through the pitch black of midnight, it’s impossible to tell. Still, it must be you. No one else in our world can make that type of noise. At least not anymore. I can’t say that I’m excited to hear you. But I can’t say that I’m not, either. Because together we’ll go. And we’ll be alone. Just the two of us. And I look forward to that.

Even so, I drift back to sleep and only realize that fact during your next series of soft cries, the ones which finally prompt me to gently pick you up from the Moses basket. And together, we’re off.

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Another Happy Birthday

Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to you.

That’s right. Just days after we celebrated Grand Finale’s birthday, it’s time to celebrate yet another. And no, it’s not Alli’s, as the above picture might suggest. Nope, today’s birthday belongs to another girl. But not Kirby. Because then that’d mean that Sam and Jack would also be celebrating a birthday today, and they’re not. And it’s not my birthday. Nor is it the birthday of our faithful hound, Briggs. So that just leaves one person.

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The Time We Met Our Brother

Soon after Caroline and I first learned that she was pregnant with Luke, I was surprised to find that I actually had to mourn the loss of something: the “youngest child” status that the triplets would soon give up. This, of course, made me appreciate just how incredibly well Alli handled the triplets’ arrival. Sure, you could hear her gears grind just a bit during the first few months of their lives, but all in all, she adjusted beautifully. So beautifully, in fact, that I honestly don’t think Caroline and I would be half as effective in raising the triplets without her.

So now the question, of course, becomes how will the triplets handle the arrival of their brother?

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The Birth of Grand Finale Osborne

Luke Fiser Osborne

So, it’s official. Grand Finale Osborne finally began his much-anticipated reign of the planet Earth yesterday at 1:08pm. Early indications suggest that he will be a sleepy, even-tempered and flatulent ruler. My incredibly beautiful, smart, funny and charming wife proved that she’s also a total gamer (as her tennis exploits have long attested) — she was intent on having a vaginal birth and she did just that. After much deliberation we opted to not subject our fifth and final child to a state of general namelessness, but will instead call him Luke Fiser Osborne. Luke weighed 7lbs 4.8oz at birth. Both Caroline and he are doing well.

More, later, I’m sure, but for now, I’ve posted a slide-show after the jump if you’d like to see a few pics of him. And one more thing: Caroline and I wanna thank everyone for all the love and support we feel lucky to have received. We have taken each and every such display as your biding offer to help us around the house as we get acclimated over the next few months. So we’ll be calling you. Repeatedly. Until you answer. So don’t screen us. ‘Cause that’d be bullshit. Oh. And feel free to just treat yourself to whatever’s in the fridge.

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Grand Finale Osborne

Shhhh. He’s sleeping.

So, just two weeks and six days until Grand Finale Osborne begins his reign of planet Earth. That noise you may have heard a second ago? It was the sound of the brick I just passed hitting the ground. Because I gotta admit, I’m freaking out a bit. And the plethora of Dr. Brown’s bottles which have suddenly appeared out of nowhere?

Not helping. But one thing that does help is looking at these pictures of him.

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Boat Camping With Pook

Two things real quick: (1) I’m a dork who likes to make movies and (2) I’m not afraid to go camping. Those facts teamed up this past weekend when I took Pook boat camping. At the ripe old age of nine, she’s already logged more nights under the stars than most adults via five different camping trips. But this was her first time boat camping.

What’s more, it was also my brother-in-law’s first time boat camping, and only his second time camping ever, the last coming when he was 16. So let’s just go ahead and call this his first time camping, shall we? Same for his 5-year-old son. Though they left camp on Saturday morning, a good friend of mine and his daughter joined us right as they were leaving, so we spent the rest of the trip hanging out with them.

So how did everyone fare?

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When Triplet Toddlers Do The Dishes

No one likes to do the dishes. Well, except for the tiny trio (who are about to outgrow that moniker, by the way). As they take great delight in the chromed magic that is our dishwasher, opening and closing and once again opening its door. And even standing upon it if they’re feeling saucy. Of great fascination are the two racks which slide in and out. And the silverware holder? It rivals Dora.

Okay, that’s bullshit. Nothing rivals Dora. Except for possibly Caillou. Who’s bald at age four with no apparent medical condition which would require any type of hair-losing remedy. And whose parents are annoyingly empathetic, not to mention always successful in conveying moral-laden nuggets of wisdom in sing-songy fashion. And, oh, by the way, could someone please tell Caillou’s narrator to dial it down just a touch? This isn’t Shakespeare, girlfriend. It’s a borderline sanctimonious, B-minus cartoon about a bald kid. Yet, I digress. This post isn’t about Caillou. It’s about what happens when toddler triplets do the dishes.

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10 Most Obvious Findings Ever

Rupaul's on my list.

Writing for Babble has been wonderful for a number of reasons. One of them is that I’m plugged in to way more parenting news than ever before. Which is kinda neat. In fact, earlier today, I ran across a parenting-related study conducted by the Washington University of Medicine that simply blew my mind. I’m not sure how much money was spent on the research, but if they spent only a penny, then they got ripped off.

According to Washington University‘s website:

High school students who smoke, drink, use drugs… or engage in other risky behaviors also are more likely to become pregnant or to impregnate a sexual partner, according to a new study from psychiatry researchers at Washington University School of Medicine in St. Louis.

Oh my gosh, y’all. Who in the world would have ever thought that teens who booze it up and get high are more likely to end up with pregnancies? Good thing for Washington University. Good thing I read the entire article, too. Because the title of the article was confusing to me: Pregnancies More Likely in Teens who Smoke, Drink and Use Drugs. Maybe I didn’t get the title because it seemed like such a stretch.

The brainiacs behind this study were also involved in ten other studies. I’ve listed the headlines pertaining to each study’s result for your convenience. You know. In case you weren’t aware of them.

  1. There’s Been Snow This Winter
  2. Amy Chua Has a New Book Out
  3. Michael Jackson’s Relationship With Bubbles, The Chimp, Deemed Disturbing by Some
  4. Hitler Had Anti-Semetic Tendencies
  5. There’s a Football Game This Sunday
  6. Social Networking Site Facebook Gaining Momentum
  7. Prolonged Exposure to Rupaul Confuses Young Children
  8. Turns Out Brett Favre Was Kind of a Loser
  9. Heidi Klum is Remarkably Hot
  10. Charlie Sheen Enjoys Porn, Blow
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