Lego came out to help, because he’s really big into watching me work on the car. I thought I didn’t really need any help, since I had a bleeder kit, which makes it a one-man job, but I enjoy the company and figure it’s a good way to teach him stuff. He actually came in pretty handy, though, because the hose on the stupid cheapo bleeder kit kept popping off the bleeder screw and squirting brake fluid everywhere. He kept an eye on it and let me know when it popped off. But because it kept popping off, it turned into a rather slow process, and eventually I needed to break for lunch.

After lunch we went over to Macey’s, where they were holding a kids’ safety fair or some such. There were a few fire trucks, a police car, an ambulance, a life flight helicopter that sadly was gone before we got there, and a big bouncy slide thing that the kids wanted to go on again and again. We also got free snow cones and popcorn and were going to get into the line for free balloon animals, but by that time they told us they were getting ready to pack up. Lego was pretty upset that he didn’t get a balloon animal, and I told him that maybe I could buy some balloons and make something for him, since I used to know how at some point. That cheered him up a little, but it seemed he had completely forgotten about it by yesterday.

After the safety fair I went to Sears to try to find a better brake bleeder kit, since they usually have better tools, both in quality and selection, than auto parts stores like Autozone or O’Reilley. I found a kit that was actually cheaper than the one I got at O’Reilley, and it worked a lot better. I also swung by a craft store to try to find balloons for making animals, but no luck. They recommended I try a party supply store, but I didn’t have time.

I finished up with Brinestone’s car and took it for a test drive. Success! It appears that the major problem was indeed the crappy old fluid that probably had never been changed. For the record, new brake fluid is almost clear, and the old stuff that came out was a murky brown. But I noticed that the rear brakes are wearing unevenly, so I’ll have to come back to that sometime.

Sunday was pretty boring except for the part where we forgot it was stake conference until about 15 minutes before it started. We rushed out the door and managed to get there only about 10 minutes late, which was pretty remarkable, in my opinion. The parts that I managed to hear were quite good, but little children are always rather distracting, and the sound quality of the broadcast wasn’t that great in the room we were in.

Today after school I went to a party supply store and bought a pack of 20 balloons. After dinner we had family home evening, and for the activity afterwards I tried making a few animals. I had reasonably good success considering I haven’t made balloon animals in over fifteen years, but the principles are pretty simple. I think I only popped two balloons in the process, and even though the cat, lion, monkey, and dinosaur I made look kind of terrible, the kids had a blast. And so did I.

“Why is there always water in the hose?”

I explained that there’s always water in the hose because it’s connected to the same pipes that are in the house. Just like there’s always water in the pipes ready to come out of the faucets, there’s always water in the pipes ready to come out of the hoses.

So of course then he asks why there’s always water in the hoses. Then I explain that there are pipes that go under the streets and connect to all the houses to bring everyone water, and the water in these pipes comes from the city, who sends it to everyone so that they all have water.

Then he asks if the water comes from water towers—I have no idea where he got that from—and I say that yeah, sometimes the water is stored in water towers, but I don’t think we have any around here. I think all our water comes from rivers or something. (Turns out it actually comes from springs.) So the water comes from the rivers to the city, where it’s cleaned up and sent through pipes under the streets to all the houses, so that whenever you turn on the faucet or the house, there’s water.

Lego mulls this over for a second and then declares, “That doesn’t make any sense.”

For a moment I’m so caught off guard by this that I don’t know how to respond. I mean, what part of that didn’t make sense? So I ask him that, and he says, “Maybe it’s one of those things that I’ll learn when I’m older and go to school.” And that was the end of the conversation.

Seriously, where does this kid get it from?

She’d had a doctor’s appointment yesterday, and she was dilated past 3 cm then. This morning she was past 4, so they said we were there to stay this time. Things moved along quite quickly this time all by themselves, whereas last time her water had broken but she wasn’t really progressing until they put her on pitocin.

They broke her water, and then things moved really quickly. About 20 minutes of pushing later, we had ourselves a little boy. The doctor remarked on how huge he looked—sure enough, he weighed in at a whopping 9 pounds 3 ounces. Don’t ask me how the two of us produced such a big baby.

The name we settled on is Daniel Porter, and he seems to be doing great. He’s pretty calm and alert—he’s hardly cried, and he likes to just look around at everything. Brinestone’s doing pretty well, but obviously she’s pretty exhausted and sore (she went without an epidural this time).

I’ll try to post pictures tomorrow.

We’re not having an easier time of it the second time around. We seem to be having the exact sort of block described here. We’ve looked at baby name books and haven’t really found inspiration. We even checked out the Baby Name Wizard book, which offers suggestions based on names you like, and it hasn’t been that helpful, either. All it’s shown is that we’re pretty consistent in our tastes . . . and that there aren’t a lot of boys’ names that match our tastes.

It’s funny how some people freak out when they find out that you don’t have a name picked out months in advance. After all, we did end up with a couple choices in mind last time, and we picked one within a few minutes of his birth; I don’t think we’re really in danger of leaving the hospital with a blank birth certificate or any other travesty of that sort. Still, it doesn’t look like it’s going to be easy, and we are definitely going to wait until he’s born to make a final decision.

We’re having another baby.

Yes, it’s true. A few months back, Brinestone and I both started to feel like the time had come. Lego was well over a year old, and we’d agreed that having kids about two years apart sounded good. So we prayed a lot about it, felt good, and then . . . well, I’m sure you can figure out what happened next.

Anyway, the due date, as we figure it, should be around May 30. And to answer the inevitable question, yes, we’re excited, though personally I’m a little warier this time because now I know firsthand how much sleep I’ll be losing.

He loves to help with dishes and other household chores. Look at him loading the dishwasher!

2. Bipedal motion

He learned to walk a couple months ago and became proficient rather quickly. Within a couple of weeks he was walking around with his hands behind his back like it was nothing. What a pro!

3. Style

He looks great in shades. Check it out.

4. Speech

He’s learning to speak English, though it’s more of a basic pidgin at this point. He’s got a vocabulary of over a dozen words, plus a couple of signs, though the phonology’s still pretty rough. He doesn’t systematically distinguish between nasal and oral stops, and he expectedly has some trouble with laterals, velars, and some vowels, particularly diphthongs. But still! Perhaps now Melyngoch will be slightly less afraid of him.

5. Sweetness

A little while back I said to Lego, “I love you. Can you give me kisses?” He nodded solemnly and made three kisses at me. The other day Brinestone and Lego were in the other room, and she said to him, “Can you go tell Daddy that you love him?” He ran into the living room where I was and made a big kiss at me. Nothing warms your heart quite like that.

I think the biggest problem, though, was that I’ve heard a lot of women, both married and single, with children and without, say how much they hate Mother’s Day in church. Frankly, I don’t blame them, since the theme of the whole day seems to be “Mothers are angels on earth and are the most spiritual and loving and selfless beings that walk the earth.” It’s the sort of thing that’s liable to give people inferiority complexes.

Instead I tried to stay away from the “mothers are a hair’s breadth away from getting translated and taken up into heaven” angle and focus more on my own mother and how, even though she wasn’t perfect and had flaws and whatnot, she made sacrifices for us on a daily basis and often got few thanks in return. Growing up, you kind of take it all for granted, but looking back—especially now that I’m a parent—I can really start to appreciate just how much she did for us.

So, if you’re reading this, Mom, I just wanted to say thank you for everything. I think I am a better man for having a mother like you. I love you and appreciate all that you did and still do for us.

Also, here’s an awesome story about my mom. As I said recently, my parents just moved to Nebraska and are now living on five acres of land just outside of a podunk town. On Friday my mother noticed that a couple of the burrowing owls out in the yard were acting funny, so she went outside to see what was up, and she found that there was a small (only two and a half feet long) rattlesnake outside. My dad and brother were at work, so she did the only reasonable thing: she got the rifle and shot it. Way to go, Mom.

It’s also humbling to look at that cute little guy and think about the life ahead of him and the personality that he’s developing. It’s also eerie to see my features in him, just as it’s eerie to look at old pictures of my dad and see myself in him. I mean, just look at this happy face. He’s the spittin’ image of his old man!

I love being a daddy.