You guys are probably wondering how the kids are, since I hadn't really mentioned them in a while.  C'mon!  Humor me while I whip out the slide projector of all of my kids' pictures...

D really likes it here in Texas.  What's not to like?  He has everything he had in CT, except he now has a bright big sunroom to play in, and he hangs out in the pool a few days a week with his daddy.  That's me!  (I think)

He also seems to like his new school.  Except one of his classmates likes to call him a "baby."  Oh, I dunno... maybe cause he cries like a little b*tch when he doesn't get what he wants?!?  So here is the conversation I had with Mrs. Fly:
Mrs. Fly: I took care of Andrew calling D a baby.
Me: Really?  What did you do?
Mrs. Fly: I told D to tell Andrew, "I'm not a baby.  I'm a good boy."
Me:  [WTF?!?]

How does that even make sense logically?  That's like something only a mom could come up with.  Every so often, I'll hear D repeating the phrase "I'm not a baby.  I'm a good boy" and I have to give myself the ol' facepalm. Having grown up as a NYC latchkey kid, I would have gone with the trusty, "let's take this outside so I can smash your f*cking face into the top of that fire hydrant.  And then I'll ass-rape you with a branch off of that oak tree.  When you're eating all your meals thru your sippy cup and having to wear diapers to control all the ass hemorrhaging and anal leakage, we'll see who the baby is.  C'mon... let's go..  I don't want to miss nap time."  But D couldn't pronounce "hemorrhaging," so I gave up.  I suppose it's for the best - I'm pretty sure the preschool (and local law enforcement and the Texas Department of Social Services) would frown upon my methods, so I'll defer to Mrs. Fly.

He's a super happy and affectionate kid most of the time.  But we're still working on the occasional fake crying.  I think he must've picked it up from some 'tard in his class.  And since he's pretty smart, he probably picked up on the fact that the squeaky wheel gets the grease.  I'm actually shocked at how many parents do whatever their kid wants when they cry.  Apparently, they've never heard of Pavlov - reinforcing the crying by rewarding that behavior.  When kids are infants and can't speak, crying is their main source of communication.  So okay.  But D's three and a half years old and perfectly capable of more emotional control.  If he were older, I could just say what I'm really thinking, which is "go cry in front of someone who gives a sh*t, you f*cking baby!"  But I stick to the more politically correct, "D, stop fake crying" in my sternest voice.  Then the crying stops... like stopping water by turning a faucet handle.  One day, he's going to win an Academy award.  And the Oscar goes to...

Oh snap!  I just realized I was in Dallas.  I hope the above isn't considered heresy.  I ran out of space for G.  I'll save that for a future post.