Slackin' on the Bloggin'

Yup. Wayyyyy behind in this blog thing. The good news is that EGB is still cruising without regards to this stankin' blog. I'm backlogged through March. I'll get you up to speed asap.

This whole organized life thing sure isn't easy. I know why Peter Pan didn't want to grow up. It's not quite as fun.

I went to a birthday party for EGB's buddy Evan. There was no good entertainment other than kids rolling around on mats and barfing icing. So I put together my mid-80s Lotspeich routine and showed those little rugrats who's boss. I do Bar Mitzvahs too.

But this is really the moment you've been waiting for. EGB in all her glory at the dinner table. I don't know many 23 month olds that can rock like this. I can't even rock like this. EGB is cooler and smarter than me. I have to accept that and let her fly out of the nest to Hollywood. I can't keep up with this insanity. Check this video out. It may change your life. Or make you chase a dream or two. Or just cough a Cheerio through your nose. They're all interesting moments in life.

Dream on.

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www.bohrmanfamily.blogspot.com

Get Down With EGB

The American Idol in training. She's skipping the introductory rounds and going straight to the finale.

EGB demands farm animals, warm milk, and PB&J in her dressing room. We all know she's a diva.

But her magic in is her melody and pure pitch. She's being heavily recruited by several high school choirs. Like the protective dad that I am I'm making sure she's going to enjoy her childhood and get a job that pays some bills around her. I mean, damn, somebody gotta pay for the food that feeds those cheeks.

So turn the speakers up and let the awesome out. Here's....Beyonce-G-B.

Side note--

I feel sorry for that microphone--on the verge of being eaten at any second is a precarious way to go through life. I wonder if they have a union or anything. This is borderline microphone cruelty.

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HEY!

Want some cereal?

EGB Wraps Up Month 22 and Hits Month 23 With Style

This is what March looked like--A semi-cranked out EGB riding the ebbs and flows of the 22nd month emotional tsunami and a tired-ass dad. There were mountain trips, skiing, sledding, eating, dancing, crying, capsized boats, invisibility cloaks, strobe lights, and water torture. It was a good month. It was all captured by the family historian and put into the vault for review. Upon review it will be shared with the world on a real large silver platter.

We're are now in the 23rd month which is mind blowing to think we've been at this whole parenting-child-rearing game for almost two years. Yes, it's a game. With winners and losers. The narrative entails the stories of bloodshed, tears, and weaponry. It's a serious game. Fortunately, the only way to win is to tickle. Laughter wins every time. Bohrman family happiness--1. Imminent threat of tantrum overide, Sartre's No Exit style--in eternal expectation of the torturer to arrive only to find out that we're here to torture each other, but when given the opportunity to leave we don't--0. Thank you for your help in our victory.

In the upcoming days you'll see the fruits of our victory. Pictures and videos to come. EGB skiing? Yep. At the park? You don't say. Punishing yogurt? All will be revealed.

The 23rd month has proven its readily available challenges....the era of "WANT". You thought it was "The world was your oyster"? Apparently, it's not. Your oyster is EGB's and so is your car, your dog, your children, your light saber. EGB is big on ownership mission which makes grocery shopping tough--within 30 minutes the cart is full of cookies, Fluff, anchovy paste, and meat tenderizer. We shop online now.

At this point EGB close to world domination via all your stuff and your neighbors stuff too. According to my sources this is normal as one needs to learn ownership prior to understanding sharing (not a lot of that going on around here). That makes sense except that there is serious underground war going on amongst the 23-month-olds across the globe over a lot of objects. It can be violent, so I tend to close my eyes.

The underground warrior and her captor for the day. It's a tense moment in a tranquil environment.

I don't trust any of your friends Papa. Who's that over there telling me to eat a waffle? I don't trust waffle people. I'm a pancake girl.

Geez, is it naptime yet. This photo shoot is getting old. Like you--old Dad. These pictures are repetitive. That's cool. I like repetition. I do. I do. I do. I do. Doo-doo. ha.