Wall Climbing

Only eight months old, and Tyler’s already wall climbing…

 

 

There is a walking path near our house. We like taking it because we can let Delilah off her leash to run around. With the unnaturally warm temperatures on Friday and Saturday, we capitalized on the situation. At the end of the path, the city is building around eight to twelve baseball diamonds. They also have a very nice playground, and that’s where we went.

 

Tyler played on the swings.

 

He went on the slides.

 

He teeter-tottered.

 

And he even went rock climbing.

 

He loved his daddy.

 

We did lots of other things there too.

The Somnambulistic Son

The silence in the room was broken as a cry drifted down the stairs. Joe, an unassuming man who is convinced that Murphy's Law applies to his everyday life, turned to look at Sarah.

As a stay-at-home mom, Sarah has developed an expertise in all things baby. On more than one occasion, Joe has found himself wondering if Sarah has some type of supernatural connection with the baby. He's attempted to rationalize these thoughts. He knows that Sarah's hearing is better than his. But how can she be in the kitchen, chopping up food, with a fan turned on and music playing in the background and STILL know when Tyler wakes up? And let's be honest, Joe. Doesn't Tyler always seem to know when Sarah's nearby, almost like he senses it? It's a two-way bond, between mother and son, and you aren't a member of that club, Joe.

Tyler is the seven month old product of the the young marriage between Sarah and Joe. If you were to see his smile, you would see the sproutings of three teeth, with two more, maybe three, on the way. Tyler is also the owner of the cry that has Joe sitting up and looking questioningly to Sarah.

Sarah was gazing upward, head cocked ever so slightly to the right. Joe was certain that she was focusing her auditory senses on the room above, but that small, nagging part of his head thought otherwise. She's looking through the floor, Joe. She's watching Tyler THROUGH the twelve inches of plaster, wiring, joists, sub-flooring and carpet. And matting, Joe. She's also looking through the matting.

In the silence that followed the initial cry, she said, "Maybe he'll go back to sleep."

Joe relaxed and let out the breath he didn't notice he was holding. Yes, maybe he would go back to sleep. It was eleven o'clock POST meridiem, after all.

The answer to that particular thought came down the stairs in a more forceful tone than the cry that first interrupted the quiet evening. With a sigh, Joe stood up, walked to the stairs, and started up the fourteen steps to Tyler's room, stepping over the three creaky ones. It was a habit he picked up shortly after Tyler was born. In the darkness of the second floor, he turned the doorknob and pushed the door open. They live in an old house that has settled over the years. Joe has combatted the non-levelness of the house by placing shims under one or more corners of the furniture. The door to Tyler's room also falls victim to this non-level nature and will swing open without any external force. It stops only upon hitting the doorstop with a BANG....... BANg.... BAng... Bang.. bang bangbangbangbang, as it bounces off the stop with decreasing force each time it connects. Only a week ago did Joe have what he considers to be the brainstorm idea of placing one of Tyler's stuffed toys against the doorstop. Now, the only sound from the door is a quiet "ffff".

Tyler was in his crib, sitting, crying. Joe could just barely make out the shape of the pacifier in the darkness. It was laying on the floor, about a foot or so from the crib.

"Big surprise", Joe said under his breath as he bent to pick it up. He mused on whether this small piece of plastic and silicone was the source or the cure for the Tyler storms that have a tendency to materialize seemingly out of nothingness.

"Here you go, buddy. Shh shh shh shhhh. Let's go back to our night nights." More times than not, night nights comes out as "nigh nighs", and this was no exception.

With his eyes now adjusted to the darkness, Joe got a better look at Tyler and saw that, sitting in his crib and crying, his eyes were still closed. He asked in barely a whisper, "Are you still sleeping, TyTy?" In fact, the whisper was so faint that Joe would later wonder if he even said it aloud at all. He picked Tyler up an inch so he could lay him down again. Tyler's eyes never opened. They never even fluttered. Convinced more than before that Tyler was indeed still asleep, Joe placed the pacifier in Tyler's mouth. Instantly, Tyler fell still and silent.

Shutting the door and walking down the stairs, a swarm of thoughts flooded Joe's head. Sarah looked at him, waiting for a status update, and although Joe was certain that she watched the entire scene unfold through the ceiling/floor combo that seperated the two rooms, he said "That boy is going to be a sleepwalker."

The End

somnambulistic (som-nahm-byoo-lis-tic): a parasomnia or sleep disorder where the sufferer engages in activities that are normally associated with wakefulness while he or she is asleep or in a sleep-like state.

If you are able to swim through... the Ring of Fire!

I went back and forth trying to title this post. The runner up was "Sharkbait OO HA HA", but then I realized that both titles would fall on deaf ears if you've never seen "Finding Nemo" half a dozen times or so.

On the off chance that you haven't seen nor heard of the movie - and, if you're a parent and haven't seen that movie, then shame on you - it's about a fish. How's that for giving away the entire storyline?

Tyler is taking swimming lessons at the YMCA. Sarah signed him up a few weeks ago. The classes are once a week for about 30 minutes, and go for 12 weeks (if I remember correctly). Tyler just turned 7 months old, so we don't really expect him to understand us when we say "kick your feet! kick your feet!", or try to get him to climb up the ledge of the pool (really, the instructor told Sarah to try to get him to climb up there, even though he can barely crawl). But, it's a good activity for him, and you can't go wrong introducing somebody to swimming and water.

I can't swim. When I was young - I don't know how old exactly, but I was young - and I was at the beach with my dad, he decided he was going to teach me to swim. He had his hands under my body while I tried getting accustomed to the water. I said, very specifically, "Don't let go", to which he responded that he wouldn't. Mere seconds later, he removed his hands and I panicked. Because of that experience, I've had a very real fear of water since then. That's not to say that I couldn't take baths or get on a boat. I just couldn't put my body into any water that didn't allow my feet to touch the dirt while my head was still above water. Even in that shallow water, I couldn't do anything other than stand straight up. If we were playing frisbee and it went left or right of me, I could NOT dive for it. I've come leaps and bounds in the last few years. I've actually gone tubing, water-skiing, and "swimming", but only with the aid of a life jacket. And I've somehow managed to not loose my mind when I get thrown from the tube, or get a water enema from skiing.

So, I think it's great that Tyler is getting exposed to water and swimming so early in life. When Summer rolls around, and we go to the lake with our friends, or to the local pool as a family, Tyler will be a year old and will hopefully take to the water much more easily than I did.

I've only been to one of Tyler's classes. Sarah told me that in his first class, he didn't appear to be comfortable in the water, but that he still did pretty well. From then on, though, he loved it. I went with them this previous Wednesday to check it out for Tyler's third class. I had a feeling that cameras were probably not allowed in there, so I just brought it in without asking. Better to ask forgiveness, than permission, right?

I can not believe how much Tyler enjoyed being in the pool. He was splashing and kicking, and lunging his body all over the place. Sarah had difficulty time holding him a few times. I'm still learning how some of the settings on my camera work, so bear with me on some of these shots.

Tyler loves splashing his arms in the water.

He was even pretty comfortable on his back. I really didn't know what they were trying to accomplish, though. The instructor told them what to do, but I was completely focused on taking pictures. I'm pretty sure they were working on kicking their feet.

They were definitely working on foot kicking here. Tyler did really well, but we knew he would, because he does that in the bathtub too.

On his belly, Tyler did a great job of holding his head up while kicking and waving his arms. It'll be awhile before we let go of him, but he's definitely understanding the concept. Either that, or he just loves to splash the water. I'd like to say that it's the former, but I've got a hunch that it's the latter.

Time to towel off and hit the showers. I can only guess how much chlorinated water Tyler swallowed over the last 25 minutes.

Once we got home, Delilah gave Tyler some "good job" kisses after we told her how great Tyler did in the pool.

Useful Items v.1.0

It just doesn't seem right that I'd do a Useless Items post without balancing the see-saw with a Useful Items post. From diaper bags to car seats, there are myriad (I just discovered the proper use of this word and feel the need to use it a couple times so I can make myself feel more educated than I actually am) items that are essential when you are responsible for a baby.

The Useful Item for today isn't exactly an "item", but I consider it to be very important. And since this is my blog and my rules, I'm using it.

Classes

I don't presume to know how things worked hundreds of years ago when it came to pregnancy. For all I know, the cartoons I watched where right, and babies were delivered to your porch by a stork. What I can tell you is that without pregnancy classes, I'd either be dead (by Sarah's hands, of course) or in a mental institution. The act of labor and birth is very challenging, both mentally and physically. You must prepare your mind to handle the chaos of labor. Had I not prepared my mind for such rigors, my brain quite likely would have shut down, rendering me catatonic. Being in such a state would have infuriated Sarah. If she was too busy to murder me herself - you know, with the whole "labor" thing - she would have ordered our midwife to inject Sodium Thiopental into my veins. Seeing, first-hand, what a woman in labor is capable of while in labor, I know that our midwife would have done as she was told, if for no other reason than to just keep Sarah happy.

I assumed that Sarah and I would take Lamaze classes to prepare us for labor and birth, if we took any classes at all. To be honest, I never knew there were any other options. To be even more honest, I thought classes would be a waste of time. All Sarah would have to do is say "Hee hee ho" and breathe funny, right? "Classes", I thought, "pish-posh!" All I needed to do was sit next to Sarah, say "just breathe" over and over again, and let her squeeze my hand. Ten minutes later, a baby would come shooting out of her nether regions, the doc would smack his butt, and he'd start crying. Ding, dang, done.

My ignorance astounds me. It's not my fault that TV and movies lied about labor. According to everything I'd ever seen, the woman goes to the hospital, pushes for a few minutes, screams once or twice, and pops out a baby. The father is either pacing around in the waiting room, or standing next to his wife while she tells him that she hates him because "you did this to me". Listen to me; classes are absolutely necessary. And Lamaze isn't the only option.

I made it a priority to go to every OB appointment while Sarah was pregnant. I didn't want to miss a thing. All told, I only missed one appointment. And that was because of my own idiocy. Anyway, at one of our appointments, Michelle (our midwife) told us that she thought we would be a great couple for Bradley Classes.

I couldn't tell you Sarah's reasons for deciding on the Bradley Method. I could give you a laundry list of reasons why I felt that Bradley was the way to go, but there is one that stands out in my head. And it is, by far, the number one reason - for me, at least - that we went with Bradley.

Simply put, humans are animals. Although we place ourselves as being rulers of the world, superior to all other forms of life, we are still animals. If you were to observe a dog (or another animal) in labor, they go to a den, a private area, and relax. They let their bodies do the work. It's very peaceful, and very beautiful. The Bradley Method is based on that principle.

The best thing about these classes isn't what you LEARN, but what you GAIN. I learned to help Sarah relax, through visualizations, breathing exercises, and touch. I learned how to react to situations, both normal and unexpected. But what I gained was a greater closeness to Sarah. Had it not been for the classes, not only would I have been unprepared, but Sarah wouldn't have been able to focus on only me and my voice and relax as easily as she did. In the heat of labor, when Sarah was desperate and tired, I wouldn't have known what to do when she said that she didn't care about the effects of drugs on our baby.

We didn't have the labor of our dreams, but taking Bradley classes made everything manageable. I knew it was all worth it when Sarah said afterward, "I couldn't have done this without you."

So, men... you owe it to the mother, the baby, and to yourself to know what the heck you're doing in there. Take some classes, and be a part of the birthing process.

Tyler, with our Bradley instructor, Erin
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As a sidenote, I'm not at all trying to "put down" Lamaze. I have no experience with it. We went with the Bradley method, and it worked wonderfully for us. I highly recommend it, but at the end of the day, you have to make the decision that works best for you. I just hope that it's the Bradley method, because it is that awesome. Like I said in the Useless Items post, I'm pretty much the smartest guy I know, so you should listen to me on this one.

The decisions that we make

I love his faces (View More Photos)

I sometimes wonder if, when I started this little blog of mine, maybe I should have set it up a little more anonymously. Some of the blogs I frequent use letters to refer to their loved ones. Tyler would be T, Sarah would be Ess... You get the picture. I tend to be more along the lines of the full-disclosure type along with a couple of the other blogs I follow. There are any number of reasons why somebody would want to maintain a level of anonymity on the internet. You could have worries about the executives within your company knowing about your personal life. Maybe you work for the shadow government and are under constant surveillance. Maybe you're delusional, and THINK you work for the shadow government and are under constant surveillance. The list goes on.

My reasons for thinking I should have gone the anonymous route are simple. I don't want you to call Child Protective Services on me. I don't want to be exiled from my small town. I don't want to be ostracized by my friends or outcast from my family. But, in the spirit of full-disclosure, I'm going to tell this story anyway.

Tyler is a brat. Maybe "is" is the wrong term. A better one would be "can sometimes be". Tyler can sometimes be a brat. He caught a cold last week. As a result, he cried a lot, didn't sleep very well, and ate poorly. If you were to pile all that into a bucket and take it to your local 4-H fair, it would win Best-in-Show as the "Fail Pail". Needless to say, we've had a rough go of things over the past few days.

Yesterday was no exception. Due to his over-tiredness, Tyler would cry and fuss through feedings, and he fought sleep very, very hard. And, due to Tyler being fussy and over-tired, Sarah was fussy and over-tired. She finally decided to take Tyler upstairs, and they would both (try to) take a nap together, because they both needed it.* I stayed downstairs. I had been vegging out on the couch all day, on account of me being sick also, watching MMA fighting.

Two hours later, the dogs come tearing down the stairs. Ten times out of ten, this means that Sarah is coming down as well. I paused the TV - DVR is modern man's greatest invention, possibly the greatest of all of mankind - so I could see how her and Tyler were feeling after their nap. But there was a problem; Sarah didn't have Tyler with her.

After a big stretch, she says, "man, I needed that."

I reply with, "Is TyTy still sleeping?"

"He. Is. OUT."

Sarah goes off into the kitchen to start dinner - meatloaf, smashed potatoes, and a fruit salad - and I continue to watch Enoch Wilson beat the snot out of some other guy.

About an hour goes by. I finished watching the fights and was looking through the guide, and I had this... feeling. Staying calm, and doing my best to keep my composure, I start up the stairs, careful to skip the first one because it creaks the worst. I count each step as my foot lands on it. "2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14." And if you're wondering, yes, I do count stairs everytime I'm on them. It's my slight OCD kicking in. I could dedicate an entire blog post to the number of steps in houses, buildings, and fire escapes, or on the color coding and design of parking structures. But I wouldn't do that to you.

Upon topping the final step, I quietly walked into the bedroom. I see Tyler, smack dab in the middle of our queen sized bed, chillin' like a villian. Out. Cold. I stare at him for a moment, but don't see his belly moving up and down. Terror washed over me. I sprinted to the side of the bed and knelt down. I stared, senses sharp as a razor. Nothing, no movement. I'm in a near panic at this point.

And this is where you dear readers will say to yourselves, "What is wrong with that man's head?"

Have you ever had a moment where you've got only a nano-second to make a decision, but it seems like millions of thoughts and scenarios have time to swim through your mind? For example, you're putting away dishes, when a plate slips from your fingers and goes flipping downward to the ceramic tile floor. You have just a moment to decide whether to let it hit the floor, whether to try to grab it, or whether to position your foot so that it will break the plates fall and hopefully save it from breaking into many tiny pieces. All those thoughts go through your head in a flash. Or a dog dashes out in front of your car. You can brake, go left, go right, or go straight. All in the span of a lightning flash, you rationalize everything. Go left and you could get into a head on crash, go right and you sideswipe the minivan next to you, brake and get rear-ended by the Prius that's tailing you. Go straight, and you take this dog's life. As morbid as it is, it happens.

Well, I had one of those moments as I tried to see Tyler's belly move. On one hand, I was petrified that my beautiful baby boy wasn't breathing. I wanted to (HAD TO) put my hand on his chest/belly and feel for his breathing. I had to put my ear next to his nose. I had to know. My head was swimming in thoughts. Ambulances, hospitals.... worse. But... hold on just a second... on the other hand... I didn't want to wake him up. If I put my hand on his chest, he may jerk himself awake, and the boy really needed his sleep. DON'T JUDGE ME!!!

Thank the heavens above, I didn't actually need to make that decision. Just at that moment, his fingers twitched. I let out a deep, deep, quiet sigh of relief. I put my finger on his palm and he grasped it. And stayed asleep.

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*I want to note that I'm not calling Sarah grumpy or anything here... I'm just saying that they was tired and needed some sleep.

Moving pictures

Tyler sorta laughs and coos and is just being adorable (View My YouTube Channel)

I don't know why I don't use the camcorder more often. Whenever I want to record a video, I've been doing so off the digital camera. Well that just sucks. The resolution is not good, and the framerate leaves something to be desired.

I got the camcorder back out this week (it hadn't been used in about a year or so, for some strange reason), so I'll be posting lots of videos, I hope... and probably much to the chagrin of my loyal (heh) readers.

I might switch over to Vimeo as well, since they accept and display higher resolution videos than YouTube does.

Look who's blogging too

My blogging agenda was interrupted tonight, but I have no complaints with that. Why, you ask? Well, because my wife decided she wanted her own blogspot/blogger account. Any time Sarah shows an interest in technology or the internet, I get very excited. I offered to just add her as an author to my account. Kinda like a "guest poster" or something. See, we don't really know how often she'll be blogging, and it seemed easier to do it that way.

"But I want mine to be purple", she replied.

*sigh*

So, I set up an account for her and spent the next few hours hacking away at the code to get it *just right*. The themes that come with blogspot/blogger are ok, I guess. And they do allow a certain level of easy color modifying. But there were some major code rewrites that I had to make in order to get it to how I liked it. Then, I had to add a bunch of variables so that Sarah can semi-easily go in and adjust the colors/borders, if she sees the need for it. She tends to like my choices, but it is her blog, afterall.

I present to you... Sarah's blog, "Because I Said So". I've also added it to my "Required Reading" on the right hand pane, under the most recent photos. Look to the right, and scroll around if you don't see it.


Check it out... she's not as awesome as I am, but she's gosh-darned close ;)

Sarah dropped the baby!!!

I think this is one of the cutest pictures of Tyler, to date. (View More Photos)

Well, not really, but that certainly got your attention, didn't it. I know I'm going to catch hell when she sees that I've blogged about it, though.

Here's the scenario. I was sitting on the couch at the foot end, playing on my laptop. I'm sure I was likely checking out the latest headlines on Digg or catching up on celebrity gossip at WWTDD (yes, I'm a sucker for that stuff). More than likely, I was reading all the blogs I've got bookmarked. I've found that to be a much better way to spend my time than just blankly look at google's homepage, wondering what topic to search for next.

Sarah was lying on the couch, across 2 of the 3 cushions. I was sitting on the last. Tyler was lying on Sarah's chest. The two of them were napping sleeping. Seemingly out of nowhere, Tyler decides he wants to reposition himself. He kinda just shifted his head off to one side, but he's got a big, heavy head. The weight of his head, and his lack of toned core muscles caused his entire body to roll off of Sarah's chest.

I think Sarah reacted first, but it was only by a single micro-second. Sarah swung over and snatched him before he had any real chance of falling completely off. All I could muster was a complete body-jerk reaction and an involuntary spewing of a colorful phrase that would be a synonym to "HOLY CRAP!"

I said that phrase 2 or 3 more times afterward. Sarah's eyes were about bugged out of her head. And our little Tyler, well he slept through the entire thing.

I knew, at that moment, what I would be blogging about today. I don't think Sarah will end my life right away though. She was gone all last week, and has fallen behind on reading my blog. She probably won't read this until next week, and will, hopefully have a sense of humor about it.

If this blog isn't updated within the next 3 or 4 days, please call the authorities.

The fix

I got to see my wife and my baby today!! I went to South Bend, Indiana today to help out another service rep for the day. South Bend is only about a half hour from St. Joe, Michigan - which is where Sarah is. So, I capitalized on the situation and went up there.

Now that I've gotten that out, let's back up just a bit. I don't call Sarah when she's doing her "girls week". I let her call me when she has time. She's up there to relax and hang with the girls, so I stay out of the way. Sarah calls me once in the morning to say hi, and once in the evening for goodnights. Now, if I end up going to bed before her, I do give her a ring and leave a voicemail saying goodnight.

Everytime we talk, I tell her to give TyTy kisses for me and to tell him I love him. Sarah tells me that she and Tyler miss me. Yesterday, she was holding Tyler when I told her to give him kisses. She did and I heard her say they were from me. She told me that Tyler started smiling. Awwwww.....

Ok, so I get there today and scoop Tyler up from his Aunt Jenny. In the two hours that I was there, Tyler peed through his dipe and onto me, and he spit-up - PAST the burp cloth - onto me... TWO TIMES. I'd love to say that he was happy to see me, but it wasn't exactly a warm reception.

I got to see a couple really cute pictures also. I can't wait to get the camera home, so I can check them all out and get them uploaded to show them off.

And I'm sure I'm just being crazy here. I mean, afterall, they've only been gone 5 days. I swear that he has doubled in size. He's a beast. I really wish I could take Tyler from Sarah for a week so she can see the hell I'm going through.

Oh, and I've got friggin poison ivy on my upper right arm now. What the heck man? I was wearing a long sleeve shirt. I've GOT to get the rest of these bushes down so I can be done with it.