Last Wednesday, I had to drive up to Kalamazoo, Michigan. There was some training taking place Thursday morning that I needed, so I got a hotel. I kissed Tyler goodbye and begged him to be good to his mom, because she needed some good sleep. The previous night, he was up every 60 to 90 minutes. He'd take one boob and fall back asleep. I told Sarah to put him in HIS room (he's been sleeping in a crib in our room), shut HIS door, shut OUR bedroom door, and set the alarm for two and a half hours, and go to sleep.
What's that, you say? Just wake him up and give him Boob B? Get it, boob b? Boobie, hahaha. Thank you for that one, Adam. Let me be very clear here when I say that when Tyler falls asleep at the boob, the boy goes COMATOSE.
Sarah calls it a milk coma, and she is very right in calling it so. Waking him up is simply not an option.
With that being said, one of the fundamental differences between Sarah and I, and, I assume, most moms and dads, lies in how crying affects us. I may have blogged about this before, so forgive me (and feel free to skim the rest of this paragraph) if this sounds familiar. When I've got Ty, and he starts crying, I go through a mental checklist. If he's clean, dry, fed, and burped, I tell him he's going to have to just cry it out. I'm certainly not that brash, but you see my point (hopefully). With Sarah, logic takes a backseat to emotion. And let me just say that emotion shouldn't have a driver's license. When Sarah hears Tyler cry, she says that it makes her heart hurt.
Now, don't get me wrong, I understand where she's coming from, just as she understands where I'm coming from. But it's like a Catholic telling a Baptist that the Baptist's beliefs are crazy. The Baptist is just going to yell back at the Catholic, "NO U!!"
I'm sure you've all been in a situation where you and your mate were at odds with each other. Try to put yourself back in that situation for a moment. Are you there yet? Ok. Now, imagine my surprise the next morning, when I talk to Sarah and she tells me that she took my advice.
Allow me to say that again.
*clears throat*
The next morning, I was talking to Sarah from my hotel room. She told me that she took my advice. A woman took a man's advice. A woman took a man's advice. A woman. A woman. A woman. A woman took a man's advice.
She put Tyler in his crib, shut the door, went into our bedroom, shut the door, set her alarm for 2 hours, and fell asleep. As a testament to how tired she was, at some point she turned her alarm off and woke up 3 hours later. IN A PANIC! Tyler was fine though. He had apparently awakened just a couple minutes earlier. When Sarah went to check on him, he was wide-eyed and ready for food.
He took both boobs.
Now that the foghorns, train whistles, and braying alarm sirens have died down, I must say again that Sarah took my advice.
MY thought is that she took my advice because I'm pretty stinkin' smart and it was a good idea. Sarah would say it was because she was exhausted and not in her right mind at the time. In short, she'd plead temporary insanity.
*pause*
Looking back over this post, I've gotta tell ya, my intention today was to blog about something entirely different. I, more or less, start typing and just let my fingers take me where they must. It is as if I am Gan's facilitator (Stephen King reference. Don't worry if you don't get it). Either way, I now must decide whether to make this one long blog, or turn it into a two-parter. Hrm.... let's keep going... one long post.
I was in Kalamazoo on Thursday for some training. Sarah had a dentist appointment that morning. Tyler did great while she was in there getting her teeth cleaned. Afterward, she took
Logan to the kennel and went home. She loaded up the car with luggage and supplies,
Delilah, and
Tyler, then hit the road to Kalamazoo. We were invited to hang out with our friends (Mel and Adam) at their cottage by the lake, for the weekend. I met Sarah around 4 or 5p at Mel and Ad's new house. We got the tour and hung out there for a couple hours. While their house was very nice, and while I was very impressed, nothing - NOTHING - could top what happened very shortly after the tour. No, it wasn't the fact that I fixed their doorbell (which I believe they don't even know about). And it wasn't even that either
Luci (their lab/hound pup) or Delilah made a mess on their new carpet. This is, after all, a daddy-blog, right? "Off-Topic Tuesday" does have a nice ring to it, though. It's my idea and you can't have it!
What I am taking forever to get at is this: Tyler
smiled at me last Thursday. And it wasn't one of those ehh-it-could-be-gas smiles. It was, without a doubt, a "Hey, there's my daddy!" smile. A gummy, mouth wide open smile. He does this every time I see him now. Needless to say, I was on cloud nine. It is easily the highlite of my day now, getting to see my son smile AT ME! Much like
Joanna, he puts his smiling face away as soon as the camera points at him. I was pretty quick on the trigger a couple times and managed to capture a few half-smiles before he put on his professor-face.
So, there I am, full to the brim and overflowing with glee, when Sarah strolls into the room.
"Sarah! Tyler smiled at me when he saw me! A genuine, legitimate smile!"
Sarah, not to be outdone, grabbed my bucket o' glee and tossed it out the patio door with this gem:
"Yeah, he's been doing that with me for about a week."
Sarah, if you're reading this, you can stop now. The rest of this post is nothing but highly-technical computer talk.
The array variable wasn't populated properly. Storing a floating point number in a boolean field will result in a false...
Is she gone?
After mentally shooting daggers at her, I said, with my don't-you-dare-say-it-out-loud (also known as the for-the-love-of-god-don't-let-this-get-past-your-lips) voice, "Yeah, well he smiles bigger for me."
So, in conclusion, Scriptaculous uses prototyped arrays, and the for/each statement doesn't work as intended any longer.
