November 2009
16 posts
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You Say It's Your Birthday
One year ago today, my wife and I decided to enjoy a quiet lunch, then see a movie. We never made it to the theater. By dinnertime, we had two extra mouths to feed.
Today, my sons Wyatt and Boone turn 1-year-old.
It’s been a year of new words and crawling and projectile vomiting and runny noses and excited screams and bruised heads and exploration and staying in pajamas all day and funny hair...
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Stand And Deliver
Wyatt: I’m standing! Hey, dude! Look, I’m standing!
Me: Good job, Wyatt.
Boone: Welcome to the club, late bloomer. I’ve been standing for weeks.
Me: But Wyatt skipped right over crawling.
Wyatt: Crawling is for suckers.
Boone: Isn’t crawling a crucial step?
Me: It’s important, but some babies never do it.
Wyatt: Yeah, I’m just more— Whoa! WHOA!
Boone: Ha! Nice tumble, bro.
Wyatt: Ow! That hurt.
Me: You’re fine.
Wyatt: Fine, my toosh!
Me: Really, you’re fine.
Boone: I guess crawling is for suckers and the properly balanced.
Wyatt: Screw off, dude.
Me: Don’t be mad. You’ll get the hang of it.
Boone: How’s the weather down there?
Wyatt: I’m totally going to pull your hair when you get down here, bro.
Boone: I think I’ll just keep standing then.
Me: Take it easy, both of you.
Wyatt: Don’t move, bro. I’m going to use you to pull myself up.
Boone: No! Wait! WHOA!
Wyatt: OW! Get off me!
Me: Guys, cool it.
Boone: While I’m here, I’m going to thump this plastic car on you head for a while.
Wyatt: Ow! STOP!
Me: Boone, stop. Besides you have a nice crown of bruises from all your falls.
Boone: Crawl away, bro. Oh, that’s right. You can’t.
Wyatt: Once I’m walking, I’m going to take a running kick at your crotch.
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Sick Of It
Me: Come here, Boone.
Boone: Why?
Me: I need to wipe your nose.
Boone: Again? Jesus Christ.
Me: Hey, I’m not the one sneezing out slug trails.
Wyatt: Dude. Cool it. I’m already not feeling well.
Me: Sorry. Hey, at least neither of you have swine flu.
Boone: Yikes. What’s that?
Me: Like the flu, but different. I guess it’s not really as bad as the media is making it out to be.
Wyatt: But it’s called swine flu. That doesn’t sound like a Thai massage.
Boone: Yeah, dude. Certain animals just imply menace.
Me: A pig? Really?
Wyatt: Did you see “Hannibal”? Killer hogs, man. Killer hogs.
Me: Stay here for a sec.
Boone: Where are you going?
Me: I’ve got to wash my hands.
Wyatt: Is that why you’ve been so distant?
Me: I have not been distant.
Wyatt: You don’t pick us up as much, you don’t play with us as much.
Boone: You don’t pretend to eat our fingers like you used to.
Me: Guys, c’mon. You’re sick. Your mom’s sick. I’m trying to keep this bug at bay.
Boone: Well, I don’t know about my bro here, but I feel like my emotional needs aren’t being met.
Wyatt: You know what this does to a developing child?
Boone: You’re planting the seeds in us for criminal behavior. Vandalism. Petty theft.
Wyatt: Then, a hold-up goes wrong and we’re in the big house ready to walk the last mile.
Me: That’s a bit of a stretch.
Wyatt: Is it, old man?
Boone: I’m just going to get a prison tattoo now and save some time.
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Shit They Don't Tell You About Fatherhood: Sleep...
When you’re expecting a child, everybody jokes, “Get all the sleep you can now.” Even people who don’t have kids. Two problems with that:
1. Getting sleep before your child’s arrival won’t help you once said child arrives; and 2. After four months of almost no sleep, you will want to track down anyone who made that joke and slaughter them.
I brushed off those jokes. I knew it would be a...
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Fine Dining
Me: Thanks, guys. It’s nice to go out to a restaurant every once in a while.
Wyatt: Hey, we don’t care where we eat. Just that we eat.
Boone: Yeah, dude. I gotta say, this is a nice joint. How’d you pick this place?
Me: I asked if they had high chairs. They said yes.
Wyatt: The food tastes just like the stuff we eat at home.
Boone: Yeah, I don’t remember looking at a menu. Do you, bro?
Wyatt: No.
Me: I brought this food. I ordered you guys a chicken breast, but the rest of this stuff is from home.
Wyatt: That can’t be right. Let me try something. POW! I’ll be damned. It smashes just like the food at home.
Me: Wyatt, don’t do that.
Boone: Let me try my arm sweep. HIYA! Look at that. It flies off the tray just like the food at home, too.
Me: You guys are making a mess.
Wyatt: Big deal. You’ll just clean it up. POW! POW!
Me: Actually, the staff here probably will.
Boone: Then, what are you complaining about?
Me: Good point. Still, guys, chill out. You have to try to get some of that in your mouth.
Wyatt: Boone, look at this shiny thing.
Me: Oops! Give me that.
Boone: What was it?
Me: A fork.
Wyatt: Let me see it. I want to swing it around.
Me: No way in hell.
Boone: I’m going to try to eat the table.
Me: Stop. Here, have some chicken.
Boone: HIYA!
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Crawling Toward The Goal
Boone: C’mon, bro.
Wyatt: I’m coming.
Boone: No, you’re not.
Wyatt: Dude, I’m crawling just like you.
Boone: Really? Is that why I’m way over here and you’re flopping around like a halibut?
Me: He’s right, Wyatt.
Wyatt: Shut up. I’m crawling.
Me: You’ve got the stance right. You’re just not working your legs.
Boone: You’ve got to work your legs, bro.
Wyatt: Damn. I thought I was crawling.
Me: Speaking of stuff you can’t do, why haven’t you said “Papa” yet?
Wyatt: Still figuring that one out.
Boone: “Pa-what?”
Me: “Papa.” It’s not that hard. It’s like “Mama.” You guys say that all the time.
Wyatt: Sorry, dude. Can’t get my mind around that.
Boone: Yeah, next you’ll be asking us to speak Latin.
Wyatt: What’s the word for when your food comes back out?
Me: “Throw up.”
Wyatt: Good. All this effort to crawl is making me do that. Right now... Huuuuuurghaaarfff...
Me: Christ. On the rug, too.
Boone: Yikes, bro. Hey, when did you eat blueberries?
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Red In The Face
When the babies were super young and still had that new baby smell, we had a changing station set up in our bedroom because they slept in a little bassinet in there with us for the first few months. One time, as we were preparing to put them down, Boone started crying. Fighting through a haze of sleep deprivation, I leapt into action.
I knew this probably meant his diaper needed changing, so I...
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Bang Your Head
Though only doing so for a few weeks, Boone is already bored with crawling. He now pulls himself up into a standing position whenever possible. When not attempting to stand, he does the yoga position Downward Facing Dog. He gets that from his mother, I guess.
Both standing and yoga usually lead to him falling and bumping his head. Hard. He now sports a crown of bruises so pronounced, I’m...
6 tags
Share And Share Alike
Boone: Give me that.
Wyatt: I’m playing with it.
Boone: Give it.
Wyatt: No.
Boone: Yoink!
Wyatt: Hey! Give it back!
Me: Guys! What’s going on?
Wyatt: I was playing with that thing and he took it from me.
Boone: I wanted it.
Wyatt: You don’t even know what it is.
Boone: Sure, I do. It’s a... flashy, noisy thingy.
Me: You can’t just take stuff.
Boone: Why not?
Me: Because it’s rude and mean.
Boone: So?
Wyatt: Yeah, dude. You’re not helping my cause much.
Me: How would you like it if I took it from you?
Boone: But, I’ve got it—
Me: Yoink!
Boone: HEY!
Wyatt: Ha-ha. Face, bro.
Me: Here you go, Wyatt.
Boone: Uncool, dude. Uncool.
Wyatt: I have to agree. I mean thanks and all, but I don't think that’s the lesson you want to teach us.
Me: What?
Wyatt: You just did what he did. That seems like reinforcement of bad behavior.
Boone: Yeah, that feels reinforced in me now.
Wyatt: I watch “Dr. Phil.”
Me: Well, how am I supposed to teach you something as complex as sharing? You guys don’t even know not to eat the carpet.
Boone: You could maybe hold the flashy, noisy thing and let us both play with it.
Wyatt: Or offer us a few toys and let us choose.
Me: You’re surrounded by toys.
Wyatt: It’s too many. Limit our choices. Force us to share. Just a thought.
Me: Okay. We’ll give it a try.
Boone: In the meantime, yoink!
Wyatt: Hey! Give it BACK!
5 tags
Where Wings Take Dream
We’re preparing to travel for the holidays. By plane. And by “preparing,” I mean mentally. We won’t start the physical preparing for some time.
I’ve never seen a baby have a completely peaceful flight. Ever. In fact, a friend of mine says taking a baby on a plane amounts to child abuse. Actually, he used the word “torture,” but I won’t be waterboarding my boys… unless they misbehave. Of...
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From The Mouths Of Babes
Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. It has been 29 years since my last confession… Maybe longer. I can’t remember. I only went that one time after confirmation and, even then, I made up some random sin to tell the priest. But, I digress. My sin, Father, is that I have been eating my babies’ teething biscuits… I know I’ve been away from the Church for quite some time, but I’m pretty...
8 tags
Losing Daylight
Wyatt: “...OOO, EEE, OOO, I LOOK JUST LIKE BUDDY HOLLY...”
Me: Dude! What the hell?
Boone: It’s time to get up.
Wyatt: Yeah. Wake and bake, pop.
Me: Wake and... Do you even know what that means?
Boone: Does it have anything to do with toaster pastries?
Me: Eventually, I guess.
Wyatt: What do you mean?
Me: You’ll find out in high school. Go back to sleep.
Wyatt: It’s 7 in the a.m. Let’s get this day rolling!
Me: It’s not. It’s 6 a.m.
Boone: You sure, dude? It feels like 7 a.m.
Wyatt: Feels like 7 a.m. to me, too. Uh-oh, old man. You know what this means.
Boone: Alzheimer’s.
Me: You guys haven’t adjusted for Daylight Saving Time.
Wyatt: What’s Daylight Saving’s Time?
Me: We set the clocks back to save energy or something. And it’s “Saving,” not “Saving’s.” It’s not a sale at Big Lots.
Boone: So everyone sets their clocks back once a year?
Me: And then we set them forward in the spring.
Wyatt: Jesus. Make up your mind already.
Boone: That explains why you put us to bed so late last night.
Me: It was just an hour later and clearly it didn’t work.
Wyatt: You should consider just getting up at 6 a.m. until the clocks get set forward again.
Me: No way, dude.
Boone: I don’t know what to tell you, pal. I’m up.
Wyatt: Me, too. Ready to rock.
Me: Okay, but this means I’ll have to push your naps back help get you back on track.
Boone: Fine. I don’t need a nap anyway...
Me: Wyatt, was that a yawn?
Wyatt: What? No.
Me: That was a yawn. I saw it.
Boone: What are you doing, bro? Keep it together.
Wyatt: I can’t help it. I’m getting tired.
Me: Don’t fight it.
Boone: Fight it! Fight!... Okay. All this is making me tired.
Me: Too late. We’ve missed the window. Up and at ‘em, guys.
Wyatt: You are such a jerk.
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The Pen Is Mightier Than The Baby
Before my boys arrived, I used to joke that I planned on cage training them like we did our dog. Today, that basically became a reality. I just purchased a huge octagonal pen for the babies. I guess I should put a water bowl in there, too.
I would say Boone’s crawling like his ass is on fire but, as a rule, I try to avoid flaming baby imagery. He does move fast, though, and Wyatt’s crawling days...