Stuff You Shouldn't Be Doing, Tyler

This picture has nothing to do with the content of this blog. Tyler's teething, so he makes this face a lot.

Tyler has some pretty cool toys. He has this really awesome ball that's got a plastic monkey perched on the top of it. It makes noises and music when you roll it, and the monkey somehow manages to always stay on top. He has a turtle that counts to four, says shape names, and sings to the tune of an Italian song. He also has a spinning top type toy with animals on it. It sings, counts, lights up, and makes animal sounds.

They're great toys and, as a bonus to me, aren't very expensive. I can see how these toys can help to teach things, like cause and effect, and other cool terms that aren't coming to my mind right now. And Tyler plays with none of them. I try to engage him, I really do. I giggle like a little girl while I bat the monkey ball around, amazed at the monkey's ability to balance precariously atop the green and blue ball. My acting ability is top notch. I can fool any child under the age of two into believing that I am genuinely delighted by this marvel of a toy. This is, of course, partly because I am genuinely delighted by this marvel of a toy. I want to take it apart and see how this modern-day version of a Weeble Wobble works.

I hope cardboard isn't unhealthy

Tyler has no such interest. He looks at it - with just a hint of curiousity - for a moment, then proceeds to chew on my slipper. While it's on my foot. And I don't stop him. I'll have to file this post under the "bad parenting" category.

As much as I've been praying that Tyler will develop superpowers, and become a real-life superhero, the one thing I do not want is for him to have any psychic powers. I find myself less-than-amused at his innate ability to find everything that he shouldn't be playing with. If there are ten toys surrounding Tyler, and one of Delilah's chewed-up ropes, Tyler will see the rope, and only the rope, and he will commence on chewing said rope. Why he has no desire to play with the toys that we paid good money for is beyond the scope of my knowledge. I'm going to become a millionaire by developing a product that will be guaranteed to get any child interested in any item of your choosing. It's going to be a sticker that simply says, "Keep out of reach of children". You put that sticker on his least favorite toy, and he'll never put it down again.

Until I manufacture and market my idea, Sarah and I have to try to stay one step ahead of Tyler. I have a feeling that we will be playing this "game" for years and years to come. If we so much as blink after setting him on the floor, he'll have a power cord in his mouth. Tyler must think that "no" is a slang term for "awesome work, my dear boy. Your very survival is solely dependent on your eating cords at any and every opportunity". Tyler's has 2 other favorite items in our house. One is either a plant stand, or the ivy plant resting upon it; we haven't determined yet which of the two he is enamored with. He grabs at it every chance he gets. No amount of "no", or "bad", or "ucky" will dissuade him from reaching for it. When he does get his paws on it, he slides it closer to him. The sound of the wooden legs sliding across the hardwood floor is like a Klaxon alarm for us. We immediately have to charge after him and start with the calls of "no", and "we don't play with that".

Tyler's other, and probably more, favorite household item is Delilah's water dish. I don't know how to keep him out of it. So far, all he's interested in is splashing his hand in it, but I'm petrified of what could happen if left to his own devices long enough. I've been unable to come up with a solution that allows Delilah to get to her water, but still keeps Tyler away from it. Maybe I could install one of those wireless fence systems in our house. Anytime Tyler goes near the water dish, which will be just outside of the boundary, he will be delivered a high-voltage reminder of his lapse in judgment via a wireless elastic headband. I'm open to ideas, dear readers. In the meanwhile, I've got something else I'd like to talk about.

The library group that Sarah and Tyler attend had Valentine's Day treats on Tuesday. So, Sarah went to the store Monday night (yes babe, I just called you out for waiting until the last minute) to pick up some ingredients. She made a chocolate covered strawberry concoction, and it was delicious. Sarah is very gifted in the kitchen. It's win-win for me, because she loves to cook and try new things, and I love to eat. The added perk is that I get to be a taste tester when she makes these delicious desserts. If it weren't for my insane metabolism, I should easily weigh in at 300 or more pounds.

I've jumped off track. While Sarah was at the store, I played on the floor with Tyler. He was having a blast knocking over the towers of blocks that I was building. Unfortunately, our floors aren't very level, so any stacks higher than 6 or 7 blocks is impressive. As I completed one such stack, I turned to Tyler to let him know I needed his destructive assistance. I found myself unable to form words or even thoughts when I looked at him. When thought did finally return, I had trouble deciding on whether I should yell at Tyler, or grab my camera. I decided to do both.

"Tyler!!!", I yelled, jumping to my feet. "Don't move! Where's my camera?"

Yup, he can pull himself up now.

With the help of some living room furniture, Tyler - all by himself - pulled himself to a stand. I didn't run fast enough, though. When I returned, he was crawling to the tower o' blocks to demonstrate his skill at unstacking. Fortunately for my "I have to document this" side, and unfortunately for my "he's growing up too fast" side, Tyler crawled to the entertainment center and pulled himself up, four more times! One of those times, he turned and looked directly into my eyes, and I swear to you that the expression on his face said, "watch this". Then he just let go and plopped on his butt, and smiled at me.

I really was excited, really, and I expressed it as much as I could to him, with high pitched wows, and saying stuff like "good job" and "that's my big boy". But I'm worried that Tyler saw the fear that swam just below the surface of my visible emotions.

Tyler just let go of the only thing holding him up

Played Us Like a Fiddle

Yesterday was Adam's 30th birthday. Three days ago, on Saturday, was the super secret awards-show style surprise birthday party that his wife had been planning for the previous 4 or 5 months. She rented a conference room at the local Radisson hotel, which we decorated around a red carpet awards show. I won't delve into her devious planning, and how she was able to arrange for him to be there in a suit, with him none the wiser, but it's a good story.

I've spent the last 2 months (maybe three, I can't really remember), making a PowerPoint for the event, which became known as "The Non-Annual Quoties Awards". Adam has the innate ability to watch a movie one time and quote almost the entire thing afterward. As a result, he somehow manages to work movie quotes into everyday conversation, well, everyday. Some are easily worked into a discussion, like "You're killing me, Smalls", from "The Sandlot". Others aren't nearly as easy, but he pulls it off. It's a gift, for sure. The meat and potatoes of the PowerPoint went like this. A quote would appear on screen for about 4 seconds. All quotes were lines that Adam has been known to say, many times. Guests would then shout out their guesses for the movie the quote belongs to. Then the movie clip would play. It took two (or more) months, because I had to get the movie from Netflix, if I didn't already have it, rip it to the computer with one program, compress it to a windows movie file with another, find the quote and mark its start and end frame with yet another program, and extract the segment of movie with a final program. After all the quotes and slides were loaded, I had to rearrange them all into a random order, and set the timing up for the clips. Sound effects, animations, blah blah blah.

The general format of the Quoties slideshow

On Friday, I watched the slideshow about 10 times, and tweaked a few things. Sarah took Tyler to visit a friend that just had a baby, which allowed me to concentrate my time into making these final adjustments. The party was about two hours from us (ah, the joys of moving away from all of one's friends), so we spent Saturday morning getting everything around and packed up. The difficulty in this was that Tyler was being an absolute nightmare; easily the worst he's been since he was born. A peek into his mouth during these endless screams revealed the very beginnings of Tyler's third tooth. His first two teeth were the bottom front teeth. I don't recall which one is normally the next one to come through - and it's not worth my time to google it again - but this one wasn't it. Tyler appears to be copying Maddie, by bringing in his left, upper eye-tooth next (also known as the canine, or the fang tooth).

It really hurts us to see our son in pain. The bigger problem is that we had a party to get to that night. If we were just regular guests (and I'm not being demeaning in saying this), we would have called and canceled. But, the PowerPoint was a very key element to the party. No matter what, the laptop had to get up there and hooked up to the speakers and projector! Sarah's last nerve was in danger of snapping and she needed a baby-break. So, she went to the store to look at shoes while I tended to the tester-of-sanity.

"Tyler, I don't know what to do, buddy."

He continued screaming as the lightbulb clicked on above my head. You know the lightbulb. It's the one that has the word "idea" curved around the top of the bulb. Sometimes, little lines will come off the word, to show emphasis on the fact that despair has been replaced with a brilliant thought. I searched through the luggage bag that Sarah packed, for the magical tube of Baby Teethers Orajel. I squirted about a half pea sized amount onto my finger and rubbed it onto his gums. For good measure, I handed the tube to him, so he could suck what he wanted to out of it, like an on-demand morphine drip. I'm making that last part up, but it did cross my mind. On a scale of one to a hundred, with one hundred being the best, the effect of the Orajel on Tyler's pain (as judged by the longevity and pitch of his screams) was about 0.00000001. And that was being generous.

Have you ever watched a movie where the hero was hanging off a cliff by a rope, and the individual threads of the rope started to break and unravel, spelling certain doom for our hero? That's how I visualized my nerves and patience. Then I heard keys.

"MOMMY'S HOME!"

An angel, surrounded by bright, pure, white light appeared in the doorway, and she was holding a package of Baby Motrin. Berry flavored, no less. I couldn't read the dosage table, indications and fine print fast enough. Tyler definitely liked the taste of it too, because he looked at me as if asking where the rest of it was.

Further complicating everything else, this was to be the first time that Tyler would be left with a babysitter. Let me clarify, because he's previously been left in the care of his aunts while Sarah and I went out. This time he was going to be cared for by a complete stranger. We weren't terribly worried, because this is the same person that watches Adam and Mel's son, Ben, and they love her. But he was wearing on our patience, and we're his parents. I had a real fear that she could just lose her temper with Tyler.

We drove up to Kalamazoo and parked at a "For Sale" house just around the corner from Adam's and Mel's. At 6:09p, they pulled out and turned the other way. I said "It's go time" and quickly drove to their house, unloaded the supplies and hopped into Mel's SUV to go to the Radisson. Before I left, I told the babysitter to please be patient with our grumpy baby and call us for anything. Sarah was sticking around for another 20 minutes to go over all the details with her.

Fast forward about 90 minutes. We were all setup and waiting for Adam and Mel to arrive from their dinner date to the surprise party. All the guests were lined up on the "red carpet" with their cameras. They were instructed to act as paparazzi for the guest of honor. Problem is, the guest of honor and his wife were running late, so every time I walked back into the room to update them (Melanie was sending Sarah text messages while Sarah spied from the halls of the hotel, looking for them) the guests all looked up, ready to yell and start taking pictures. All I saw were the looks of disappointment when they saw that it was just me. Truthfully, during one of my entrances, they expressed a collective sigh of disappointment, which was a mixture of "uhhh", deep exhalations, and "come on". It's great for ones pride and ego.

Finally we got the message. "We're in the hotel. Adam's going to the bathroom." Sarah and I ran into the room and told them to take their places. When they walked in, flashes were going off everywhere as I faded in AC/DC's "Thunderstruck".

"What are you wearing?", "Who did your eyebrows?", and "Where the hell have you been?" were just a few of the comments I could hear over the music, as I was crouched right next to the speakers. The speech, the PowerPoint, and the surprise couldn't have gone any better. After the "awards" portion, we all started to mingle and talk and drink. There was a table setup with theatre sized boxes of candy, and a popcorn machine next to the beverage table. Sarah sent me into the hall to check her voicemail since there was no reception in the room that the party was in.

"You have 1 new message, and 2 old messages", piped the recorded, emotionless female voice.

"Hi Sarah, this is Jaime..."

My heart jumped. Could Tyler really have been so bad that she had to call us? Why didn't I pay attention to when the message was received? How long ago was this?

"... I just wanted to let you know that Tyler..."

Seriously? Talk faster, woman! Get to the point!

"... is sound asleep. He's been great tonight. He did start to get a little fussy, so I read him a book and put him to bed, and he went right to sleep..."

I stood there, with Sarah's pink phone to my ear in stunned silence as she continued her message about Tyler's angelic behavior. The boy that seemed to be possessed by the darkest demons just 12 hours ago? I could feel the walls start to close in on me as I realized that my son is a two faced liar, and he played us like a fiddle. How could I ever have sympathy for Tyler and his Crocodile tears again? Little faker.

"... press 7. To save this message, press 9."

Snapping back to reality, I pressed 9 and folded the phone closed. Sarah's mouth made an audible thud as it hit the floor when I relayed the message. I told her that I saved the message because I knew she wouldn't believe me.

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.

Oreo

Tyler had his first Oreo cookie last week. I would prefer that he not be given "grown up" foods yet, as he's only 7 months old, but it's a type of tradition with Sarah's family. When the first tooth comes in, and baby can sit up on his own, he's ready for his first cookie. I've learned the art of "choosing your battles", so I just grabbed the camera, knowing there would be some gems in there. If you would like to browse all of the Oreo pictures, they start here. For those of you that don't want to look at picture after picture after picture, here are a couple highlights.

The first step is to give the baby a cookie, and then get very far away.

At first, I thought it would go relatively well. I found myself wondering why Sarah took all his clothes off, and had him in only a diaper.

It almost looked as if he wanted to see what he looked like with a mustache.

It was when Tyler started drooling that I started getting grossed out. He had dark brown drool flowing down his chin, neck, chest, and stomach.

Tyler's chubby hands were equally filthy.

Yeah, all down his chest and belly.

Tyler seemed to thoroughly enjoy this new, sugary food.

Sarah tried volunteering me for bathtime. I told her she was out of mind, because the Oreo fiasco was not my idea. As a last ditch attempt, she said that it wasn't hers either. I told her it was HER family's tradition, not mine. She realized I wasn't going to budge, and grabbed the filthy baby.

Luckily for everyone involved, Tyler cleans up nicely.

Normalcy

I'm not going to detail all of the events that have taken place over the last few weeks. Suffice it to say, we've been busy since around December 23rd.

Last Sunday through Wednesday, I was in Phoenix, Arizona. Due to the nature of my work, I only see my co-workers about 3 or 4 times a year, so these meetings are a great time to catch up, and re-energize for another year of lonesome work. Sadly, Tyler was already in bed when I got home. Allison (Sarah's sister) came to visit on Thursday. Later that evening, we were joined by Jillian (another of Sarah's sisters) and her almost-2-year-old daughter, Lexi.

Friday was a very long, and very unlucky day for me. My workday ended up being about 3 hours longer than I had planned for. When I finished up, I walked my tools to my workvan. I drive a minivan, and the rear door opens "up" like a hatchback. Due to the ice that was all over the van, the door didn't raise all the way up. So, when I leaned in, I cracked my forehead on the door. After mumbling a few words, I lifted the door up and leaned in again. The door had, lucky me, drifted down, causing me to crack my forehead again. In the exact same spot. I was furious at this point. I shoved the door, grabbed my tool box, and swung it up to load it into my van. It turns out that I didn't fully latch the tool box closed. Wrenches and screwdrivers went flying all over the parking garage, mostly under other cars. Have I mentioned, yet, that it was -17º Fahrenheit outside?

Not having any co-workers nearby to vent to, I called Sarah. She told me that UPS dropped a box off on the porch. Now, I get deliveries 3 or 4 days a week for work, but those come via FedEx. I've only been expecting one package from UPS. The flood waters of bad luck must be receeding, because that package contains my shiny new camera and lens. The drive home that evening suddenly became much brighter.

While the battery charged, I read the entire user's guide on how to attach the lens, set the aperture, and change the shutter speed. I fell in love the moment I pressed the shutter for the first time.

Then I dropped the camera! I was sitting in the kitchen with Sarah and her sisters and... Well, I don't know. I just dropped it. Knowing I wouldn't be quick enough to catch it, I stuck my foot out, hoping to break its fall. It worked, thankfully. The camera hit my foot, and rolled to the floor. On Sarah's advice, I promptly added the neck strap, and watched as they all played Clue.

Then I dropped the camera again! I was gesturing with my hands while telling a story, and slapped the camera right off the table. There were no fall-breaking interventions this time. The camera crashed to the floor. I wasn't worried though, because I've read countless reviews about this particular model. Many people have told stories of dropping their cameras on concrete and having them suffer little more than a scratch. What level of damage could a peel-and-stick linoleum floor do? I've got the answer to that question, and it's "a LOT". Linoleum must be some sort of camera kryptonite, because the LCD screen was shattered. *sigh*

Side note: I mean, come on. If you watch football, you've seen some of the hits that photographers, and their cameras, take when a wide receiver crashes into them after being forced out of bounds. How could I have thought that my camera would be destroyed from a tumble off a table, when I watch them collide with 300-pound monsters, with no apparent ill-effects? It's just not fair.

I'm not going to tell the story of how I now have a replacement, because I feel guilty for my deceptions. All I'll admit to is that the phrase "shipping damage" may have been mentioned. Don't look at me like that!! Let he who has not sinned blah blah blah.

Friday was a very unlucky day indeed.

I have not dropped my "new" new camera yet - knock on wood- and am absolutely in love with it.

The rest of the weekend was about as crazy as you could imagine it to be with a 2 year old who doesn't like taking naps and doesn't like not getting what she wants.

Sarah made the comment that, much like yawning, crying appears to be contagious between kids.

My only hope for the next 3 to 7 days is a return to normalcy. Well, I guess I'm also hoping that I can fight away the cold that my body is trying to catch. I think I may actually be winning this battle.

Don't let this face deceive you. Evil lurks beneath

I Got a New Toy

A Canon Digital Rebel XS camera, to be exact... Three pictures per second is both a blessing and a curse. I'm pretty much guaranteed to get the perfect shot now, but it's usually bracketed with 5 or 6 other pictures that I have to delete. For example, I took 99 pictures of Tyler's bathtime today, and ended up with 33 keepers.

It's a small price to pay to end up with pictures like these though:

View more here

Six Months... Already?

Tyler's first faux-hawk

Tyler recently celebrated his half birthday. Upon being asked by any passers-by how old he is, Tyler can now say, "Zero and a half" with the air of excitement that kids have when they know they've crested the mountain, and are now barreling downhill towards cake and presents. His first birthday is still 6 months out, and Sarah is already making plans for it.

Tyler's half birthday had me in awe of the fact that I've been a dad for 6 months. And then, I thought to myself, "already?"

It really feels like it's only been a month. He's already 6 months old. That's way too close to 18 years old. I'm not ready for him to move out yet.

Is time going to continue to move this fast from here on out?

Tyler had his well-baby checkup last week. The nurse asked the typical questions about his diet and his poop. She asked if he's been sick. We told her that he's had two colds that he caught from his cousin. She followed up with a question that appeared to be more of an assumption and statement.

"And he was treated by Dr. Woods?"

I paused for a second, and found myself unable to answer. Who goes to the doctor for a cold? I couldn't wrap my mind around that. It was a cold; a simple, let-it-run-its-course-because-there's-no-other-course-of-action cold.

Me: "Uhh, yeah doc. Tyler has a cold. You know, a cough, sniffles, and mucous."
Doc: "Okayyyy."
Me: "So, what can you do about it?"
Doc: "Nothing. Leave your $25 copay with the receptionist."

Sarah bailed me out and told her that we took care of it from home, by ourselves. I mentally appended her sentence with, "because we're not completely brain dead."

The appointment went well. Recently, I mistakenly told someone that Tyler is 25 pounds. He is, in fact, only 23 pounds. He measured at 72cm. He is still in the 95th to 97th percentile for height and weight (read: tall and heavy).

"Wow Tyler. That makes you," I said, pausing for a moment, "28 and a quarter inches long."

The nurse turned to look at me. She had a look of utter confusion on her face when she said "that's right". She didn't see that I had just punched some numbers into the calculator function of my phone. Either that, or she didn't expect me to know that there are 2.54cm/in. Maybe that isn't common knowledge.

The doc commented on how adorable Tyler's chubby thighs were. Then, she put a glove on and said, "ok, it's time to count to two."

Confused and intrigued, I leaned in a little closer to see what was going on. It makes sense to me in hindsight, but it never occurred to me that they would need to verify that Tyler has two testicles. I find myself hoping that Tyler develops a crush for her when he gets older, so I will have yet another bullet to fire at him from my "embarrassment gun".

We did have one concern that we wanted to discuss with the doctor. Tyler, for the last couple months, has had some red bumps around his left eye. Some days, they're more pronounced than others. After looking at them, doc said that Tyler has eczema. We followed her instructions of carefully applying hydrocortisone (1%) to the area, and keeping fragrance-free lotion on his face. It started looking much better within a couple hours. A few days later, it's completely gone. Sarah and I cursed our collective ignorance. We had no idea it was that important to keep baby's skin moist. I really hope it didn't itch too much, or cause excessive discomfort to Tyler.

On an unrelated note, it appears that Sarah and I may have cursed Tyler with our sleeping habits. We cannot sleep on our backs. Sarah often sleeps on her side, and I on my belly.

How or why Tyler felt the need to turn a 180, and put his head where his feet should be is beyond me.