#anyway nobodies going to see this because i think my blog is like shadow banned because i keep not posting all day every day

[xxbunnyboy]

Me threatening people who aren't nice to my mutuals

[mrslittletall]

This morning, a side blog of mine got shadowbanned. It isn't even the first time it happened. It is my kink blog and it got shadow banned around the end of last year/start of the new year and when I tried to appeal for it, it got deleted for apparently having art of "underage characters in sexual depictions". Which was... not a thing on this blog. Yes, it is a kink blog, but I am pretty sure that a majority of the characters I reblogged are adults, the ones who were depicted in sexual positions were definitely adults and there were a few where I didn't know the age, but they clearly looked like adults. And I don't draw for this kink myself, so it couldn't have been my art. I only write and my writing is a) a link to AO3 b) tumblr allows to post erotica (which I didn't even do, it was a LINK. Thing is, my kink blog is one of the most harmless in the community and it is tagged and names are censored and I make sure that only people of the community should find it and not someone random who didn't want to see it. You have to know, other blogs of our kink have blatant IRL gifs of kink behaviour and sex and sometimes you can see downright genitals. IRL genitals! The only genitals I had on my blog were reblogged fanart and they were all tagged with nsfw so that people had something to block. And because this happened again, I am pretty sure that someone tries to damage me and reports my blog and that someone must be from within the community. I have no clue who it is and if I find them, I will block, it is just... When I saw the block shadowbanned, I was like "Man, that sucks" and moved on with my life. But over the day, I got really upset about it. And that was when it dawned on me... All the stuff that happened lately... I was barely hanging on a thread. My husband still in hospital -> Fine My cat got sick -> Fine My car is damaged -> Fine My stupid kink blog is shadow banned -> The end of the world. I was already having so much stuff to worry about, that this little thing, which was probably born from malice, made my mental health tank and I was close to tears for the rest of my morning and feeling like I want to go offline forever and live back in the 90ies because nobody cares about me and everyone hates me and they have fun taking the little things of joy of me that I still have. That thoughts spiralled into the thought that my husband could die during the transport to another hospital thanks to an accident, the thought that Geraldina would lie dead at home because her sickness was worse than I thought and finally the thought of me wanting to end it all because I couldn't live like this anymore. Yeah, the mental health was extremely in the dumps. I feel better now, I got over my intrusive thoughts. Geraldina is fine, my husband surely will not die during an accident and I won't take drastic measures. I just wonder... the people who do something like that, do they even think what the other person is going through? Maybe one day someone really does something they can't take back just because of something that should not be bad, but for them, it was the last drop into their barrel... Anyway, I wanted to say this here, where I have more followers and where I am not shadow banned, and excuse me, I will put this into the tag of my kink, because I want you guys to see my trouble.

[schizo-spoon-blog]

Spoonbender Society: Selected Schizoepistles

FW: FW: FW: FW: FW: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE:

We Live In A Society

People say we live in a democracy/democratic republic, a form of government intended to amplify what people think and address problems they find to be important. But it doesn’t ever seem to function that way.

The issue is in voter suppression, but as always not in the way people generally think voter suppression works. The issue is psychic, spiritual, and social suppression of citizens. Systemic over-development of senses of rationalization, neuroticism and anxiety, industrially incentivized narcissism.

People develop a deathly fear of what others think, or may think, or what they may have thought about them or what they think, what they may think, or what they may have thought.

A democracy where we’d rather not hear what other people have to say, because we find their thoughts offensive and retarded. That’s one thing people are happy to share. But because we suspect that there are so many offensive retards in the world, we fear... "Perhaps I’m a retard too?" You wonder that even for just a second in your life, if you have a soul. It’s OK to be a retard really, but you’ll never believe that it’s OK, and that's probably What Your Fucking Problem Is.

The opinions of us purported non-retards, to avoid sounding like complete retards, end up soft, ambivalent and stale, phrased like True Neutral Orgasm in Ego-Death Nirvana, but less Chad, less gratifying, and nobody cums. To not be reminded of the possibility of our own retardation, we like to pretend that if the retards just shut up and nobody can hear them, they go away. If they are Physically Removed from our presence, their evil thoughts and their malicious intentions will go away with them. We win. But they don’t. They never do.

We always fail to Psychically Remove them. We lose.

We can hypothesize a law of conservation of hatred, correlate one too of love, but the truth is banal. How can it be in light of our timeline? Why are these Hate Groups all over the place? Hitler’s corpse is rotting or burned to a crisp, or embalmed in a tomb or made a toilet for Some Rich Dude ((parenthetical removed)). (Or was he cloned?)

Great Fatherland Germany - defeated by the "untermensch" and partitioned like a cheese between rats. That Great "Faustian" and "Supreme" "Aryan" Race is subjugated by the hated "Juden" and all the "vermin" of the world, humiliated, castrated to be reunited a shadow of its former self. Yet the Nazi threat is omnipresent nearly a century later, in an era which may be an alien planet to those who lived in Hitler’s time.

How is it that the Great Allies, our fathers and grandfathers, achieved such total victory over so loathsome a foe, so unsympathetic and vile, only to see his Evil infect their own countrymen and posterity? How can something so thoroughly defeated still persist in what could be our neighbors or our co-workers our bosses or our employees? Each one could be a secret Nazi now. In parenting blogs moms worry that their children are becoming Nazis from goofy men they see in videos on line. Marriages are ending in divorce because the husband or wife is allegedly or apparently a Nazi. How could this happen?

Have you ever seen “The Matrix? Who hasn’t? You know all about the red and blue pills, and all the rainbow-flag DLC that it comes with, black and pink and green and brown and in configurations invisible to the human eye, I’m sure. If you don't know, the pills are portals to different realities. Take the black pill and you only see death, take the white pill and everything’s alright, take the blue pill you vote for Hillary, take the pink you become genderqueer. But this is not about taking any pills. This is about going off your meds. Going straight edge - except for whiskey, cigarettes, cocaine and pussy. It’s about the spoon - no, not for shooting up. It's for bending - with your mind. Remember? That spoon - The Spoon That Isn’t There.

That spoon is a Nazi.

If you are aware that there is no spoon you can tie it into knots. You can make it into a balloon animal. That Nazi Spoon could be a Jewish Socialist from Vermont, or a kosher Brooklyn Zionist, or a Dominican Taxi Driver. It could be an evil copy of your own son from Bizzaro World. It's probably your uncle. It could be Rottweilers, and Chihuahuas. Whether Pitbulls are Nazis or Jews/Blacks is an ongoing debate in the contemporary discourse.

But imaginary shit can be whatever the hell you want. You don’t have to be "The One" to Bend the Spoon. You don’t have to be anyone at all. What was the name of the kid who said the line about the spoon again? Nobody knows, nobody cares, and that's the beauty of Spoonbending.

"The Nazi" is the guy who keeps talking when he should shut up. He might be autistic, but he could just be an asshole. There is a strong possibility he could be both. Why does he keep saying all of this ridiculous stuff? He’s more offensive and more retarded than the usual, but it feels like He Has To Be This Way. Like it’s his curse, He Knows Too Much. He fell down some rabbit hole and ended up gorged on Fascist Propaganda. He mentions some girl named Celine. He rambles on about some guy you’re pretty sure is a Tekken character... the guy who turns into the Devil maybe. He mentions a vacation in Turkey with his family but insists on saying Constantinople and there’s a wild-man tear in his eye. He insists he knows about Atlantis and calls you gay for saying you liked Aquaman. Instead of saying goodbye he says “Subscribe to Pewdiepie.” The Nazi belongs in an institution. You wonder if he has guns and if maybe he should have them taken for a while. He probably doesn’t, but you can’t be sure. He’s 12.

When is it too early to become a school shooter? Is 12 too early to be an incel?

12 is probably the age at which incels hatch from their human hosts.

“Who is Pewdiepie, and how has he groomed my nephew into the Hitler Youth?” many families today are asking. They think they’re looking at a spoon. Conditoning fills your heart with a desperate desire to see the spoon. A fact, pure fact, logical, reasonable, peer reviewed, widely accepted, So True, a Textbook Fact. The spoon. Everyone else sees it too. That goddamn Nazi Spoon.

You ever try to ask this at a party as an ice-breaker and see how the guests react?

“So, anyway, was The Holocaust Real?”

“Excuse me, what?”

“What do you think, was it real, how many people do you think died, don’t the gas chambers sound goofy to you?”

”Um… no… they don’t sound goofy. What are you talking about?”

“You ever hear about the Nazi Roller-coaster they had at one of the camps? They’d put Jews into a roller-coaster except they’d fly off the edge and get splattered. That’s how the Nazis killed ‘em. I swear. I read it in a book by a Holocaust Survivor. Impossible to believe if it weren’t so True. No shit. You hear about that?”

”I’m… gonna get another beer.”

Of course there’s a Correct answer to that initial question. It’s also the Right answer. Who would ever get this wrong? It's the 2+2=X of History. Well…

Pop-Quiz, Random Nazi Check, Anybody here Hate Jews? You a Groyper, Son? What’s so funny? You think the Cookie Monster committing genocide is a laughing matter boy? We don’t take kindly to your kind around here.

Maybe you should give the Nazi-check thing a try, it’ll separate sheep and goat real easy for you.

If you do this everyone will think you are The Nazi.

The Nazis hated Jews, but did they hate real Jews as Jews exist, or did they hate the Fascist Propaganda Jew who was a work of fiction? On that note, were you in love with your last failed relationship, or just pretending you were? Have you ever had one impression of a person, but then learned they were another kind of person entirely? That first impression you had, the one that wasn’t True, was that a Real Person, or Imaginary? But you still spent all that money and sweat on an imaginary girl, huh?

Hope her hole was real.

I think that fake bitch of an ex you dated was a nazi. Your ex was a fascist. Oh, was she Jewish? It doesn’t matter, changes nothing. I’ve never met her - wouldn't matter if I did. When I imagine her, she's in Hugo Boss black and got skull-and-bones on her officer's cap, and she's saying racial slurs as she ruins your life, cheats on you, drains your bank account and kills your dog after getting custody over it in court. I imagine all bad people this way. All women who rejected me were exactly like this.

But I must breach working-class anti-fascist solidarity, and admit, on That Question ("Would you?").... Yeah, I would. Sorry bro. Take me away Comrades, I admit it, I'd give it to that Nazi Jew raw. Would I do that to her as she exists, or the Fascist Propaganda her who is a work of fiction?

That depends. You still got her number?

haha it's ok you can call me an incel, it's a step up from what i actually am

(User was banned for this post.)

The Nazi and the Fascist aren’t my hallucinations. That’s not my mental illness. But it’s adjacent to me, it’s thrown at me without my Consent, and it's a Trigger. I'm paranoid about commies myself.

In the multicultural cyberpunk year of 2019, with its trans-human gender-sex-orientations, anti-racist ethno-narcissism, fanatic anti-normalism, cultish critical theory intersections, grand byzantine minimalism, placidity, in such splendid predatory banality… In the absolute state of the world! – Aah! An undead ideology conceived by a salty Frenchman in the badlands of South Dakota in the 1890s shambles forth the devour all that is Good and Holy in the Great United States of AmeriKKKa, God Help Us All! And A Child Will Lead Those Dreadful Legions of Corruption Upon All The Meek Of Our Fallen World!

Or it’s just a spoon that isn’t real.

Nobody wants to be straight-forward, and I gotta navigate the labyrinths of euphemism. Maybe there's something weird going on - how people talk, how people act, how people think, none of those correlate to each other. It makes you feel schizo when you do all your mental rain-man calculus and realize there's a fucking Elephant in the living room and he's not wearing any goddamn pants. Once that little ray-of-sunshine blesses your tiny bug-man brain to enlighten you that the elephant is real, and the spoon isn't, it's only a matter of time before you're crowned in tinfoil a Potato King on your off-grid Bug-out estate in the Idaho Panhandle, or start drinking yourself to death and bullying mailmen (or both).

If you'd like to avoid that sort of Elephant-Mania Spoon-denialism, maybe you should try answering Uncomfortable Question instead of being so Weird about it, oh wise Mr. Kirk, Mr. Shapiro, Mr. Talking-Head, Mr. Important-Guy, Mr. Movement, Mr. Politics, Mr. Voice of Reason, Mr. Metatron. Take it from a schizo-maniac with a manifesto, you’re freaking out the hoes.

Try Praeger U talking points out on a Tinder date and watch her shrivel up from instathot to instahag -- she will go through menopause before your very eyes, that's how dry her pussy will get. Trying not to sound racist while talking about the Antarctic Nazi base and the importance of craniometry in ethnocultural anthropology will get you more action than anything that sounds like a paraphrase of Charlie Kirk -- because even if you're still being cringe at least you aren't being fake. Point and laugh at that fucking elephant - the moron isn't even wearing pants! That'll get her thinking about taking your pants off. Or not - it's not foolproof. If she doesn't laugh, red-flag, she's a Nazi so Begone Thot!

Please, for the love of God, go off-script! See the damn elephant and forget the spoon, and forget the wise Mr. Kirk, Mr. Shapiro, Mr. Talking-Head, Mr. Important-Guy, Mr. Movement, Mr. Politics, Mr. Voice of Reason, Mr. Metatron. Take it from a schizo-maniac with a manifesto, you'll go insane if you don't.

[. . . ] [T]hen there's that neuroticism, that narcissism, that fear. The whole point of these politics groups and gatherings and Q&As is what, anyway? Is it really just basic marketing tactics, like a live-action advertisement you expect for people to passively consume as though it is persuasive? To shove free-markets and free-speeches down my throat and have me swallow it without having anything that’s been bothering me answered? What do I look like to you, an Ideology Whore? You don't even reciprocate a good time, huh? I'm not that kind of girl. You didn't even buy me dinner. You made me pay to bore me. I'd cuck you if we dated just to make a very important point -- fully aware it'll go over your head. Fuck you.

We gotta hear The Script. We gotta recite The Script.

Real Conservatives Think Like This. Real Progressives Think Like This. White People Walk Like This. Black People Walk Like This.

Gotta hear that joke ten thousand times so you can recite it like a mantra in your sleep.

Free markets mean free people. Facts don’t care about your feelings. Private Companies can do what they wish. What you do in your bedroom is your own business. We want legal immigration, not illegal.

Abolish ICE. Your childhood hero says Trans-Rights. Do you not want me in the movement? Abolish whiteness.

The Racism of Lowered Expectations.

Reparations.

A white nation.

Workers of the world unite!

Abortion is a human right.

Have you got it memorized?

Let’s go over it a few more times.

Say it with me! Hillary was found innocent in a hundred hearings and it is sexist to besmirch her reputation.

Repeat after me! Trump’s economy is the best in history, and if he's racist why is black unemployment is at historical lows.

You benefit from unearned privilege. You suffer from toxic masculinity.

The world is about to end and everything you know and love will die, and it is your fault, for not believing in the correct things at the correct time.

Are you laughing yet?

I’m dying. I feel like an e-girl, and my orbiters are sides.

But do you wanna know what I really think? The whole bit about psychic and social suppression? You ever hear about the Procrustean bed? Well, what if we put your political, social, moral consciousness and your psychic abilitys into a bed like that. We could talk about it. You ever play Xenogears?

Or you could just put me in a box. I really wouldn't mind. I'm Houdini. Hey, was Houdini a Nazi, like Henry Ford? Can we get a fact-check? I didn't mean to be problematic.

Break the Conditoning - Step outside the box, and use it as a step ladder. Ascend, Beyond the Box - use The Spoon.

Bush did 9/11, the Israeli’s danced, the Aliens killed JFK - sure - but I only say this because of my MK Ultra Schizo-brain. It’s true, it’s false, it’s fact, it’s myth, I don’t have to believe any of it -- I also don't have to believe any of you if I don’t want to. My feelings do not care about your facts, and did you know that some of the world's most uncomfortable facts are manifested into being by uncomfortable feelings? Is it the fact of the bullet that kills the political dissident, or the feelings of his executioner? Is it the deranged lust of the rapist that violates his victim, or the fact of his power to do so? I guess it depends on whether the perpetrator said "nothing personnel kid" before he committed the act. I don't know about that Nazi Rapist's feelings, but MY feelings are valid and I can believe or disbelieve whatever I want on the basis of my feelings, and my feelings alone. My feelings bend the spoon of your facts.

Are you going to say I don’t have the right, Adolf? Sucks for you, bud, I may be a commie by blood, but the heart that pumps it was assembled in the ole USA -- and we got the Right to be a Retard here in America. It's a Free Country.

[Note: please insert image of Jonathan Frakes from Beyond Belief: Fact or Fiction]

Now that the dust has settled: Was the Nazi Roller-Coaster Real? Or did we put the Truth in a Mass-Grave? We will let you know at the conclusion of our program.

Sincerely and Full of Suffering Your Friend Always, Orcbrand

[iamsoneurotic]

All Kinds of 3′s...

I’m not even providing a witty lead up. It’s happening again.

I mean at this point it’s already Facebook official, so the element of surprise is gone. Actually what would have been a great surprise would be to write an entire post and NOT say anything. Then like, on the baby’s third birthday be like “SURPRISE!”... I may still do that. Nobody reads this.

I wanted to work in something about 3 being a charm, but that kind of implies that you screwed up with the first two and THIS will be the child that saves your family from failure, but I’d like to think we’ve done pretty dang good with our first two kids. The mere fact that I was able to keep them alive (edit - not kill them, let’s be honest, mommy keeps them alive, daddy just tries not to drop them too much) proves that first and second times are a charm. I’m very charming.

We’re going to be finding out the gender next week and I don’t really want to emphasize what Rach is hoping for out of fear the child will read this someday and think it’s the equivalent of being a duplicate Happy Meal toy - but it’s pretty obvious what she wants considering we have 2 of one gender and none of the other… She wants a girl. There I said it.

Really, Rach, I still say if it’s a boy and you're disappointed by that, put it in a dress while I’m at work one day and don’t tell anybody. Get it out of your system. Problem solved.

… That part about not telling anybody is very important though. Please don’t tell me.

Anyway - 2018 was always going to be the year of Baby #3. Not that THIS particular instance was the plan, but it would have been right around now anyway. Rachael’s one demand about this post was that I not make any jokes about or references to the conception of the child. So I won’t reference the conception. Not even a little. Absolutely will not talk about how babies are made and how this pregnancy is no different from how most babies are created.

Look at me doing what I’m told like a good husband.

So we found out in June that we’re essentially not going to have our lives back until 2036. It was a weird couple of months because the prior month we had a pregnancy scare which turned out to be just a weird menstrual cycle from some hormone-related pills Rach was taking… I hate the word menstrual almost as much as the word cervix - oh dear lord I’ve used both terms in the same sentence, I’m going to throw up. Shouldn’t ‘lady’ terms be more feminine?? Why can’t they have nice terms for female-related items… Like Vas Deferens, that’s a male-related and highly inoffensive word to the ears. You know what, ladies? You can have that word. It’s not like anyone ever says it anyway. Name a non-med school conversation that you’ve ever had which included the word Vas Deferens. Seriously, we’re not using it, swap it with cervix and let’s move on from ever having to mentally scar our brains with that word ever again.

See, this is the part about pregnancies that I hate the most. It’s not the hormones, it’s not the bills, it’s not the fear of finances… It’s the freaking awful words you have to hear for 9 months straight. Everything is all about mucus and cervixes and uteruses and fetuses and cramping and contractions and I’m fully aware that I’m supposed to be using commas instead of “ands” but I have mom-brain by proxy so I don’t care. That’s the other thing - I’m getting pregnancy symptoms! I’ve heard that this is a real thing that can happen, and it’s finally happening after 3 of these pregnancies. I’m hormonal, on edge, tired, I get headaches, mom-brain, nausea… It’s freaking ridiculous. Don’t even get me going on my baby bump!

In all fairness, this has been a pretty rough pregnancy for Rach. Probably the worst first trimester ever. She’s been incredibly nauseous, cranky, tired… Basically the usual pregnancy symptoms, only cranked to 11. The poor girl is MISERABLE. I feel bad, but at the same time I don’t really like having to be in charge of watching the boys while she naps and recovers. Nobody feels a father’s pain and struggle.

Oh dear, I was talking about menstrual cycles (*shivers*) wasn’t I… I can’t keep a consistent thought to save my life. The point of that was, because we had a scare the month before which ended up being a 10-day late period, we just figured that this was no different and she’d get her period super late again… well it was kind of true, only instead of being a month late, it’s going to be about a year late. The reason I’m posing with 3 pregnancy tests isn’t because we’re going to have 3 kids or because there’s triplets on the way (God willing), it’s because Rach took 3 separate tests because she couldn’t believe it was even a possibility… I obviously can’t go into any further detail than that because I’ve been banned from discussing certain topics by my modest wife.

We’re due February 13th. I feel like this is necessary information to give when posting about a pregnancy. People like that sort of thing. People also like pictures… So here’s the little munchkin:

I should rephrase - not “munchkin”, we’re referring to this baby as our “ Lil’ Lily Pad”... Milo was very unoriginally “Sweet-Pea”, Noli was “Cupcake”, later appropriately changed to “Beefcake”, now we’ve got a Lily Pad. Not really sure what the obsession with naming unborn babies after foods. I often wonder if we as parents subconsciously entertain the idea of cannibalizing things we love. “You’re so cute I could just eat you up!” or “I just want to nibble on those cheeks!”... We’re lost as a society.

So that’s all I got on Baby #3. Now onto Baby #2! Noli’s a 3 year old!!! Yesterday was my little bug’s birthday. Did I talk about how I call him “bug”? I don’t remember... mom-brain by proxy, remember. He was a cuddle bug, so I started calling him Noli-bug, now he’s just Bug. I don’t know why it’s so appropriate for him. There’s just something about that little stocky, squishy body that just screams “little bug”. I feel like he’s destined to be in a gang someday with that name.

Anyway, he’s 3 and I’m just so proud and in love with the little bugger. The boy is a cuddly ray of sunshine. He loves hugging and kissing and saying “I love you”, and we in-turn soak it up like a sponge. He’ll just walk over and sit on you without any warning and nuzzle right up. He’ll put his arm around you, he’ll stop whatever he’s doing at random to look at you and say he loves you, then he’ll kiss you on the hand or on the head. Sometimes he’ll play with your hair or rub your arm… It’s so much adorableness that you literally feel like you’re going to implode with bliss. Rachael says he’s the best little boyfriend she’s ever had… It’s probably true – I hated PDA when we were dating. Now I just sort of wait around corners and in dark shadows and guerrilla-style attack Rachael with hugs and kisses and retreat before she can tell me to stop… Okay, that came off as a little… assault-y? Sorry, but when your wife is pregnant, it’s very difficult to get so much as a high-five. You’re more likely to get slapped and commanded to turn down the thermostat… Which I gladly accept because at least she’s touching me. Why am I talking about this…

As I mentioned in my last post - Noli is still obsessed with Spider-Man. It’s actually gotten worse. We’re at a point now where you literally can’t give him anything without him demanding a Spider-Man version of it. My dad wants to get a boat: “A SPIDEY-BOAT??”. We take the boys for milkshakes: “CAN I HAVE A SPIDEY MILKSHAKE??” (hence he gets strawberry because it’s red, and anything that isn’t red isn’t spider-man… I don’t even think he likes strawberry shakes, but it’s all he’ll accept).

The worst thing you can do for a kid who’s obsessed with something specific like this is buy them one of those ‘surprise’ toys where you don’t know what you’re going to get… You had better pray to God that there’s a Spider-Man toy in there because if it’s Batman we’re all taking a trip to Meltdown Town. I tried to buy him one of those things at the airport. I bought two, one for Noli and one for Milo. I let Noli open the first one, it was Gamora (from Guardians of the Galaxy). Naturally… he was peeved. So without Milo knowing, I let Noli open the second one… It was Venom. Good lord, we were so close!! So he begins his freakout, and I quickly scramble to salvage the situation and tell him it’s “Black Spider-Man”. He called my bluff immediately. Apparently he, like Milo, is now impervious to my lies and deceptions (which I 100% rely on to maintain peace in my home). So what did he do? He ran to mommy and said “Daddy said this is Black Spider-Man… BUT IT’S NOT!”. Rach tells me to stop lying to the kids, Milo doesn’t get to open a toy, Noli is ticked off and somehow I’m now the bad guy for trying to be nice and buying my kids some freaking toys!

Christmas is so cancelled.

Luckily Milo didn’t seem to care all that much. He’s pretty chill about stuff like that. Not picky about his toys, not obsessed with anything in particular except for Math (because he’s an evil genius – yeah, you laugh, but you’ll all remember this blog in 30 years when he conquers a nation through an impressive combination of quantum physics and basic arithmetic). You should hear that boy talk, he’s practically an adult now. I can actually have conversations with him… granted they’re conversations through the mind of a 4 year old, so they go to some weird places, but when I talk to him, it’s almost as though he’s actually listening to me and understanding… Of course that just makes me even angrier when he pretends to not hear me when I tell him to eat, or go potty, or put his shoes on, or clean up his toys, or go to bed, or answer my questions, or stop bossing his brother around, or don’t touch the tv, or don’t touch the garbage, or don’t touch the toilet, or don’t throw your toys, or where did you get that plutonium, or stop building Lego nuclear warheads with it… Basic 4-year old stuff.

I’m still trying to figure out where that red telephone in his bedroom came from.

Sidetracked again. I joke a lot about Milo being insanely intelligent (which, yes, he is), but Noli’s no dummy either. His vocabulary is incredible now and he really just absorbs knowledge like a sponge (I’ve used ‘like a sponge’ twice now in this post). I overhear Milo actually teaching him words and numbers when they play together in the other room… When I say “other room” I’m referring to our living room on the other side of our house. When we’re home, we spend most of our time in the Family Room (TV room? Is that actually the Living Room and the other room is the Family room? I don’t get house things), but on the other side of the house, there’s the Living Room - which Noli refers to as “The Other Room”, but given that he’s 3 and can’t pronounce things terribly well, he says “Dove Room”... Which is just what we call it now, The Dove Room.

I love how he pronounces stuff, he still can’t say his “G” and “K” sounds, so he just replaces them with H’s… So instead of “Okay” it’s “Ohay”, or instead of Kabob it’s “Hobob”... I like Hobob, I feel like I could make a homeless cartoon character named Hobob and make a fortune off of insensitive people like myself. He could exist in the same universe as “Cider-Man”. I’m totally making the “Faux-Vengers”. Copyright Mark Marianelli 2017.

Anyway, I’ve rambled long enough and Rachael always scolds me for making these posts too long, so I’ll end it here…

Noli, you’re what our family has always needed, you give us endless hours of laughter, and the world just seems a little more hopeful with you in it. I love you, I love that you’re here, I’m proud of you and I can’t think of anything more joyous than watching you grow. I can’t wait to see what a wonderful big brother you’ll be soon. Happy Birthday, Little Bug.

Love, ~ Bat-Dad (Yeah, he thinks I’m Batman)