Yes, you read the title right.
Alone time quickly disappears as a parent. Especially if your spouse is working or otherwise out of the house.
This morning I was alone with the boy, dog and cats.
My bowels refused to wait for nap time.
I went into the bathroom to do my thing, and lo and behold my son charged in. In his wake, the dog slipped in. Shane then slammed the door shut leaving a boy and a dog co-habitating a small half-bathroom with me. I reached from my throne to open the bathroom door, but a cat started to poke her head in. The last thing I wanted was to add another species to the menagerie keeping me company. I'm not sure if she would have come in with Brogan there, but I knew he wasn't going to leave with the cat guarding the door (the wuss).
Shane slammed the door shut. It's what he loves to do: slam doors shut. The damn dog licked my feet while Shane was banging cabinet drawers and spinning the toilet paper roll.
What's a parent to do?
It was my most awkward poo.
Ever.
Tuesday, July 31, 2012
Monday, July 30, 2012
Mornings with Brogan
Brogan is set on winning over everyone he meets. I suspect it's partly out of fear and a survival strategy (he is a bit of a wuss). On the other hand, he is a real lovebug and genuinely wants to please. Carrie taught him how to shake hands in under an hour. Now that Brogan knows it pleases her, he randomly thrusts paws at her throughout the course of the day.
He's a good boy. Even Jama says so! Brogan gets high marks in attitude, friendliness, gentleness, and looks. I'm really enjoying his addition to our family...when it's not bedtime or first thing in the morning.
Saturday, July 28, 2012
Loved and Hated: Life as a Parent
Shane and I wrestled around the couch for 15 minutes today. There were lots of laughs and giggles. It started when I laid down and pretended to snore. Shane dashed over! He 'woke' me up and then dragged himself up onto my chest. We made faces and practiced locating our eyes and noses until he wedged himself between me and the cushions. Then the boy kicked me off my own couch! My beard is a devious weapon though and it particularly tickles on the back of a neck of when giving a raspberry. It was one of those glorious moments of fun where my son is beaming and I feel like I'm the right parent for the task.
It's not always like that.
Shane and I have the love and hate relation that defines most parent/child bonds. Shane hates it when I don't let him: A) run in the street, B) eat the kitty litter, C) grab the dog's dong, D) run barefoot through a chigger infested lawn in the triple digit heat, etc, etc. Sometimes, it seems like there's more things I do that Shane doesn't like than he loves about me.
Diapers are not meant to be worn for days.
No hands in the toilet.
We don't pull cat or dog tails. None of them are meant to be sat upon like a horse and ridden or bounced on, either.
Yes, there is a stairwell and no, I'm not going to let you cartwheel down it. (Actually, I've taught Shane to 'sit and scoot' and he's pretty into it at this point, so this doesn't scare me like it used to).
Parenting requires setting limits for your child until they can set reasonable limits for themselves. Shane does not want limits and feels like they are totally unnecessary for him. Whenever I do say the dreaded 'No' or pull him away from hitting the TV with the remote Shane makes his displeasure very clear. It's also evident when we go to Nana's house and he cries when he sees me. I'm the jerk who straps him into the car and makes him wait half an hour to see Nana as I drive him over. Plus, I take him from Nana for another agonizing 30 minute car ride home.
It's all part and parcel of being a good parent. There have to be limits, and your child is probably not going to like them. Maybe one day Shane will read this when he's older and say "Really? That bothered me?" He's quite the strong-willed child now!
Thankfully, there's enough other things I apparently do right that I see my son's love too. He wakes up to me singing "Good Morning to you!," I'm usually the face he sees before and after naps, he calms down when I sing, I take him outside the most, and almost every night I sing to him and lull him to sleep. Those moments make everything worth it. I'm looking forward to when Shane's a little older and he can communicate and think logically about cause and effect. I hope he doesn't lose the enthusiasm and energy he shows now. He wears me out, but I see enough love that it's worth it and I have high hopes for the future.
Hang in there, Shane. It's like Mark Twain once said, "When I was a boy of 14, my father was so ignorant I could hardly stand to have the old man around. But when I got to be 21, I was astonished at how much the old man had learned in seven years."
Shane, I hope one day you'll be my age and wondering "How much work is parenting really!!?! My dad made this look easy!"
Plus, that'll mean I have grandkids and I get to be the spoiler.
It's not always like that.
Shane and I have the love and hate relation that defines most parent/child bonds. Shane hates it when I don't let him: A) run in the street, B) eat the kitty litter, C) grab the dog's dong, D) run barefoot through a chigger infested lawn in the triple digit heat, etc, etc. Sometimes, it seems like there's more things I do that Shane doesn't like than he loves about me.
Diapers are not meant to be worn for days.
No hands in the toilet.
We don't pull cat or dog tails. None of them are meant to be sat upon like a horse and ridden or bounced on, either.
Yes, there is a stairwell and no, I'm not going to let you cartwheel down it. (Actually, I've taught Shane to 'sit and scoot' and he's pretty into it at this point, so this doesn't scare me like it used to).
Parenting requires setting limits for your child until they can set reasonable limits for themselves. Shane does not want limits and feels like they are totally unnecessary for him. Whenever I do say the dreaded 'No' or pull him away from hitting the TV with the remote Shane makes his displeasure very clear. It's also evident when we go to Nana's house and he cries when he sees me. I'm the jerk who straps him into the car and makes him wait half an hour to see Nana as I drive him over. Plus, I take him from Nana for another agonizing 30 minute car ride home.
It's all part and parcel of being a good parent. There have to be limits, and your child is probably not going to like them. Maybe one day Shane will read this when he's older and say "Really? That bothered me?" He's quite the strong-willed child now!
Thankfully, there's enough other things I apparently do right that I see my son's love too. He wakes up to me singing "Good Morning to you!," I'm usually the face he sees before and after naps, he calms down when I sing, I take him outside the most, and almost every night I sing to him and lull him to sleep. Those moments make everything worth it. I'm looking forward to when Shane's a little older and he can communicate and think logically about cause and effect. I hope he doesn't lose the enthusiasm and energy he shows now. He wears me out, but I see enough love that it's worth it and I have high hopes for the future.
Hang in there, Shane. It's like Mark Twain once said, "When I was a boy of 14, my father was so ignorant I could hardly stand to have the old man around. But when I got to be 21, I was astonished at how much the old man had learned in seven years."
Shane, I hope one day you'll be my age and wondering "How much work is parenting really!!?! My dad made this look easy!"
Plus, that'll mean I have grandkids and I get to be the spoiler.
Friday, July 27, 2012
Green-Eyed Boy
Shane got to visit Jama, Nana, Kathleen, and Baby Cole again on Wednesday. He was a darling Tuesday, but two days of sharing Nana did not appeal to him. I started to see some signs of jealousy when she was carting around Baby Cole. Of course, it may have just been that Shane decided he wanted to be held and couldn't understand why Nana couldn't pick him up as well. My son may not be jealous, but believe that Nana is a whole lot stronger than she really is!
Cole's about 10 pounds at 2 months. Shane's a shade over 30 pounds on an empty diaper. Nana would be in a back-brace after sporting each boy on different hips!
Kathleen and Cole are leaving today, so my family is going to visit after nap time. Carrie and Shane are both snoozing as I write this. Kathleen is supposed to leave around six though, so I hope they wake up soon!
Cole's about 10 pounds at 2 months. Shane's a shade over 30 pounds on an empty diaper. Nana would be in a back-brace after sporting each boy on different hips!
Kathleen and Cole are leaving today, so my family is going to visit after nap time. Carrie and Shane are both snoozing as I write this. Kathleen is supposed to leave around six though, so I hope they wake up soon!
A Good Sign?
So I got a call from the school that interviewed me yesterday. They said they couldn't get in touch with any of my references. The lady on the phone said "Shock. It's summer. Can we speak to your principal?"
I must have done something right if they actually want to talk to people about me.
I wonder if my principal knew I was applying for these types of positions or not. I filled out the intent form and listed it. I told at least two out of three APs and my department chair, but I never talked directly to him about it. In a school of well over a hundred staff, he's not someone I typically come into contact with. Hmmm.....food for thought.
Carrie's already told me, "Accept the job if it's offered. You'd be great at this." The only thing that scares me is the commute. Right now, I have a short commute that avoids non-construction related traffic. This new school is in the heart of Gridlock-dannia.
I am excited. Even if I don't get the job, it's good to know that I was in the running for my county's magnet school. There was a line I dropped in the interview that could have killed me or hurt me in all this. The principal was mentioning how the staff and children at his school were all very intelligent, asked lots of questions, and liked to jump right in with new technology/etc. It felt to me like a roundabout way of saying they are 'well-meaning and inquisitive, but high-maintenance and challenging because of that.
I replied, "You mean you have more doctors and future doctors here than your average hospital." It was genuine Mike comment. I produced smiles around the table and they called about my references today, so I guess it was well received!
Here's to praying I get this job if it's the right one for me. Otherwise, I hope they don't offer.
I must have done something right if they actually want to talk to people about me.
I wonder if my principal knew I was applying for these types of positions or not. I filled out the intent form and listed it. I told at least two out of three APs and my department chair, but I never talked directly to him about it. In a school of well over a hundred staff, he's not someone I typically come into contact with. Hmmm.....food for thought.
Carrie's already told me, "Accept the job if it's offered. You'd be great at this." The only thing that scares me is the commute. Right now, I have a short commute that avoids non-construction related traffic. This new school is in the heart of Gridlock-dannia.
I am excited. Even if I don't get the job, it's good to know that I was in the running for my county's magnet school. There was a line I dropped in the interview that could have killed me or hurt me in all this. The principal was mentioning how the staff and children at his school were all very intelligent, asked lots of questions, and liked to jump right in with new technology/etc. It felt to me like a roundabout way of saying they are 'well-meaning and inquisitive, but high-maintenance and challenging because of that.
I replied, "You mean you have more doctors and future doctors here than your average hospital." It was genuine Mike comment. I produced smiles around the table and they called about my references today, so I guess it was well received!
Here's to praying I get this job if it's the right one for me. Otherwise, I hope they don't offer.
Thursday, July 26, 2012
Interviewing Again
I had another interview today. That's 3 interviews from 15 applications. I felt like it went pretty well. It was another panel interview, but the people at the table conversed some rather than staring at me blank-faced the whole time. I'm much more comfortable when I can read people, and I also felt more prepared for this one. Last time, Shane was super-needy the night before and day of and I never got a chance to research the school. This time, I didn't make the same mistake.
There was a funny incident at the end of the process. After the panel, I was required to type a written response to two questions. Twenty minutes were allotted. When time ran out, the secretary came in and told me to print.
No printers were installed.
The secretary was flabbergasted. At first, she seemed to think I'd done something. Instead of hitting the keyboard shortcut she wanted me to click up top. I mentally shrugged and did as she asked (people tend to perseverate on a point if you don't at least show them their way doesn't work either).
No dice. Microsoft Image Writer does not yield paper copies no matter how nicely you ask.
After the secretary saw her way didn't work, I told her I could install the printer for her if she knew the network name for it. She told me her printer was 'HP3880.' Does that sound suspiciously like a printer type to you? It certainly wasn't a network name! I ended up installing the front office printer and I set it as a default for her, so that no other interview candidates would face printing problems.
Was the uninstalled printer a happy coincidence to show my skills or a subtle staged event? It occurred to me at the onset, that it could be staged. I don't care what it was. I was happy to show I knew what I was doing. If the secretary mentions I fixed things, it may be what gets me a job offer.
Here's to hoping and praying!
There was a funny incident at the end of the process. After the panel, I was required to type a written response to two questions. Twenty minutes were allotted. When time ran out, the secretary came in and told me to print.
No printers were installed.
The secretary was flabbergasted. At first, she seemed to think I'd done something. Instead of hitting the keyboard shortcut she wanted me to click up top. I mentally shrugged and did as she asked (people tend to perseverate on a point if you don't at least show them their way doesn't work either).
No dice. Microsoft Image Writer does not yield paper copies no matter how nicely you ask.
After the secretary saw her way didn't work, I told her I could install the printer for her if she knew the network name for it. She told me her printer was 'HP3880.' Does that sound suspiciously like a printer type to you? It certainly wasn't a network name! I ended up installing the front office printer and I set it as a default for her, so that no other interview candidates would face printing problems.
Was the uninstalled printer a happy coincidence to show my skills or a subtle staged event? It occurred to me at the onset, that it could be staged. I don't care what it was. I was happy to show I knew what I was doing. If the secretary mentions I fixed things, it may be what gets me a job offer.
Here's to hoping and praying!
Heat Warning: Shane Wants Outside!
It's another triple digit day. Most animals know better than to venture forth. When the asphalt burns toes and can cook eggs it's nature's way of saying "stay indoors." Brogan wants no part of it. Whenever I do take him out in the backyard he runs under the porch, digs a hole, and lies in it. The only way to get him out of the hole is to drag him or pretend to go inside.
Shane, on the other hand, keeps bringing me shoes to wear. He can't understand why we aren't outside right now. The boy lives to be outside regardless of the heat index. He gets very angry when Dada or the dog argue otherwise.
I swear, my son's probably going to be on safari in the heart of Africa with only a spoon and a canteen twenty-years from now. Look out, lions.
Shane, on the other hand, keeps bringing me shoes to wear. He can't understand why we aren't outside right now. The boy lives to be outside regardless of the heat index. He gets very angry when Dada or the dog argue otherwise.
I swear, my son's probably going to be on safari in the heart of Africa with only a spoon and a canteen twenty-years from now. Look out, lions.
Tuesday, July 24, 2012
Kathleen's in Town!
My sister Kathleen and her son, Cole, are visiting! Shane and I scooted over to visit while Carrie took Brogan to his training class. Much to my surprise, Shane was gentle with the 2-months old Cole! He would reach out and touch Cole and gently put his head on him.
Imagine my surprise and delight my son can be gentle when Shane tries to barrel roll all over the dog, grab dog tail, or ride the dog like a horse. Shane sometimes lays down next to Brogan and thrusts his feet down to drill right into the dog's penis. He's even dropped/thrown books off the couch onto the dog! Whenever I protect Brogan or pull Shane away it normally makes my son very angry. Shane can't understand what's wrong with grabbing for or trying to put his face into Brogan's boy parts.
Hallelujah that Shane is much nicer with babies! My sister took some pictures that I'll want to post. Cole is very cute. He's blonde, blue-eyed, and fair-skinned like his mother and father. I can't really place who he looks like yet. He's very verbal though, so he probably gets that from my sister! Stu's more the quiet, well-timed sarcastic remark type. Cole would grunt, coo, and snore to let everyone know he was there.
I love how bright, cheerful, and full of my life my family can be. Carrie has to travel to a park tomorrow, but we'll do a full family visit sometime tomorrow.
Imagine my surprise and delight my son can be gentle when Shane tries to barrel roll all over the dog, grab dog tail, or ride the dog like a horse. Shane sometimes lays down next to Brogan and thrusts his feet down to drill right into the dog's penis. He's even dropped/thrown books off the couch onto the dog! Whenever I protect Brogan or pull Shane away it normally makes my son very angry. Shane can't understand what's wrong with grabbing for or trying to put his face into Brogan's boy parts.
Hallelujah that Shane is much nicer with babies! My sister took some pictures that I'll want to post. Cole is very cute. He's blonde, blue-eyed, and fair-skinned like his mother and father. I can't really place who he looks like yet. He's very verbal though, so he probably gets that from my sister! Stu's more the quiet, well-timed sarcastic remark type. Cole would grunt, coo, and snore to let everyone know he was there.
I love how bright, cheerful, and full of my life my family can be. Carrie has to travel to a park tomorrow, but we'll do a full family visit sometime tomorrow.
Monday, July 23, 2012
That was a first
I've never had a large dog crawl into my lap and then pee on me before.
Thanks, Brogan!
Thanks, Brogan!
My Wife Fixed the M key
The title says it all.
Carrie had a productive day. She woke up before Shane, went downstairs, and immediately came back upstairs. I was already awake from her getting out of bed, but I had hoped to lollygag and enjoy Shane sleeping in past 6:20. Instead, Carrie proclaimed "Ants!" and I knew my sleeping time was through.
Carrie was an ant-killing machine. I was still groggy and went to work standing in the yard while Brogan sniffed around. I came back and saw the massacre. They're ants, so they'll be back, but my wife gave them something to think about!
Add 'Ants' to the to-do list in the meantime. They're right under 'Chigger infested yard.' Shane upset that I won't let him in the yard much, but his bites are mostly healed. In the meantime, the dog and I have gotten the worst of it. I noticed Brogan rolling around and itching like crazy today. I've been scratching my own itches, so I hadn't picked up that he was getting bit too. Have I mentioned chigger central yet? I almost wrote a post way back when complaining about boxers and "how in the world did mosquitos get in there!?" Anyway, ants and chiggers. Oh my. I'm glad we moved just before summer started so we can take discover and take care of all the little peccadilloes before work starts in earnest again.
Thankfully, Carrie fixed the laptop so I could mention it!
Carrie had a productive day. She woke up before Shane, went downstairs, and immediately came back upstairs. I was already awake from her getting out of bed, but I had hoped to lollygag and enjoy Shane sleeping in past 6:20. Instead, Carrie proclaimed "Ants!" and I knew my sleeping time was through.
Carrie was an ant-killing machine. I was still groggy and went to work standing in the yard while Brogan sniffed around. I came back and saw the massacre. They're ants, so they'll be back, but my wife gave them something to think about!
Add 'Ants' to the to-do list in the meantime. They're right under 'Chigger infested yard.' Shane upset that I won't let him in the yard much, but his bites are mostly healed. In the meantime, the dog and I have gotten the worst of it. I noticed Brogan rolling around and itching like crazy today. I've been scratching my own itches, so I hadn't picked up that he was getting bit too. Have I mentioned chigger central yet? I almost wrote a post way back when complaining about boxers and "how in the world did mosquitos get in there!?" Anyway, ants and chiggers. Oh my. I'm glad we moved just before summer started so we can take discover and take care of all the little peccadilloes before work starts in earnest again.
Thankfully, Carrie fixed the laptop so I could mention it!
Sunday, July 22, 2012
Shane's on the mend
Shane's on the mend. However, please excuse any missing m's fro my posts. Shane anaged to rip the key right off the keyboard today.
We've only had the laptop for a couple of weeks. I guess that's why we payed for the warranty that includes 'accidental' damages. In the meantime, the key doesn't work the greatest. Meh.
Matt's video game night was yesterday. It was a lot of fun losing in a group in a League game for the first tie in a long time.
I see issing m's, but I'm not going to go back and fix the all.
We've only had the laptop for a couple of weeks. I guess that's why we payed for the warranty that includes 'accidental' damages. In the meantime, the key doesn't work the greatest. Meh.
Matt's video game night was yesterday. It was a lot of fun losing in a group in a League game for the first tie in a long time.
I see issing m's, but I'm not going to go back and fix the all.
Friday, July 20, 2012
Drumming Up Something Else
Shane is the proud owner of not one, but TWO infected ears.
The fever broke Wednesday morning. By that evening, Shane was pawing at his left ear and acting uncomfortable. I was slow to react. Shane's ears had been cleared last Friday by the pediatrician. They were cleared a second time super early Sunday morning at the hospital. Then they were cleared a third time on Monday when we did our follow up visit with the pediatrician. Wednesday night, I thought "How fast do ear infections develop? The kid's been cleared three times!"
Thursday, Shane was acting more upset. Carrie and I knew the signs. We ended up waiting for an hour to get nurse to see Shane and get a prescription. Shane loves medicine! Not!
He slept well last night, and we've got the meds he needs, so things are going in the right direction. It's time to carry on!
The fever broke Wednesday morning. By that evening, Shane was pawing at his left ear and acting uncomfortable. I was slow to react. Shane's ears had been cleared last Friday by the pediatrician. They were cleared a second time super early Sunday morning at the hospital. Then they were cleared a third time on Monday when we did our follow up visit with the pediatrician. Wednesday night, I thought "How fast do ear infections develop? The kid's been cleared three times!"
Thursday, Shane was acting more upset. Carrie and I knew the signs. We ended up waiting for an hour to get nurse to see Shane and get a prescription. Shane loves medicine! Not!
He slept well last night, and we've got the meds he needs, so things are going in the right direction. It's time to carry on!
Thursday, July 19, 2012
Wednesday, July 18, 2012
Shane's been a sicky
It started Friday at the doctor's office.
Shane's temperature read at 100.9 degrees. He showed no discomfort, no symptoms, no anything. The doctor decided to hold off on Shane's vaccinations, though. After the appointment, I called Carrie to let her know about everything and mentioned the fever to her. She had hoped in her own car for a business trip shortly after I strapped Shane into mine for his appointment.
Saturday morning at 5:30 AM, Shane woke with a fever. I could tell without a thermometer. His whole body was hot to the touch. The thermometer reading only came in at 101, but still the boy showed no signs of any discomfort. I worried I was missing something. I never had any aptitude for reading fevers from foreheads with my palm, but I could feel heat radiating from my son's entire body. I broke out the Toddler 411 book for research and steeled myself for an eventful day.
The dog crapped on the floor about an hour and a half later. (No, that doesn't have anything to do with Shane's fever, but cleaning up wet, gooey dog crap while your son is crying and mad you won't let him play with it is an ominous way to start a Saturday. Plus, I think it's a funny interjection.)
By mid afternoon, Shane's temperature was 102.9 degrees. He still wasn't showing any symptoms, and the doctor cleared his ears, nose and throat on Friday. My baby books and the internet told me "don't panic." I went ahead and called my doctor for an expert medical opinion and heard the same thing. All the sources corroborated with each other: baby temperatures can run higher than ours, symptoms are more important than degrees, and DON'T PANIC! Carrie got home that evening, I relayed the information, and life went on.
2:30 AM Sunday morning, Shane woke up with a panicked cry and dry heaving. Carrie and I were out of bed in jiffy. I got their first and swooped Shane up so that he could puke on me if need be (I'm easier to clean up than beds or carpets). Carrie yelped when she tried to give Shane a reassuring back rub.
He was burning up.
Temperature: 104.1 degrees.
Shane's temperature read at 100.9 degrees. He showed no discomfort, no symptoms, no anything. The doctor decided to hold off on Shane's vaccinations, though. After the appointment, I called Carrie to let her know about everything and mentioned the fever to her. She had hoped in her own car for a business trip shortly after I strapped Shane into mine for his appointment.
Saturday morning at 5:30 AM, Shane woke with a fever. I could tell without a thermometer. His whole body was hot to the touch. The thermometer reading only came in at 101, but still the boy showed no signs of any discomfort. I worried I was missing something. I never had any aptitude for reading fevers from foreheads with my palm, but I could feel heat radiating from my son's entire body. I broke out the Toddler 411 book for research and steeled myself for an eventful day.
The dog crapped on the floor about an hour and a half later. (No, that doesn't have anything to do with Shane's fever, but cleaning up wet, gooey dog crap while your son is crying and mad you won't let him play with it is an ominous way to start a Saturday. Plus, I think it's a funny interjection.)
By mid afternoon, Shane's temperature was 102.9 degrees. He still wasn't showing any symptoms, and the doctor cleared his ears, nose and throat on Friday. My baby books and the internet told me "don't panic." I went ahead and called my doctor for an expert medical opinion and heard the same thing. All the sources corroborated with each other: baby temperatures can run higher than ours, symptoms are more important than degrees, and DON'T PANIC! Carrie got home that evening, I relayed the information, and life went on.
2:30 AM Sunday morning, Shane woke up with a panicked cry and dry heaving. Carrie and I were out of bed in jiffy. I got their first and swooped Shane up so that he could puke on me if need be (I'm easier to clean up than beds or carpets). Carrie yelped when she tried to give Shane a reassuring back rub.
He was burning up.
Temperature: 104.1 degrees.
Saturday, July 14, 2012
Shane's 18 month check-up (at the 19 month mark...oops)
Yesterday, Shane and I drove through 45 minutes of backed up traffic to make it to his Dr's appointment. He was not a happy camper by the time we arrived. He was ready to runnnnn in typical Shane fashion when we walked in. Carrie really liked this pediatric center, but it was my first time to visit with Shane. I was a little surprised when they handed me a questionnaire. The form said M-Chart or something similar to that at the top. It did not list a purpose, but I immediately recognized it for what it was: autism screening.
It was a little worrisome, but I figure it must be a common procedure nowadays. Score one for the autism community on promoting early intervention. Shane does not present the way a typical kid on the spectrum does. I knew all the right answers, but I was honest. There was only question I couldn't answer 'correctly.'
"Does your child imitate faces that you make?"
No. Shane never sits still and is too busy trying to do what he wants to do. If you stick out your tongue, he will laugh and try to pull it an extra foot out of your mouth, but he does not stick out his tongue in reply.
When the doctor came in, she grilled me on my Baby's life. How much milk does Shane drink in a day? How many we diapers? Poop diapers? Wake-up time? Bed time? It turns out I knew most of the information fairly quickly (shocking.), but there was one area the doctor became intensely interested in.
"How many words does your son speak?"
"A few."
It was a little worrisome, but I figure it must be a common procedure nowadays. Score one for the autism community on promoting early intervention. Shane does not present the way a typical kid on the spectrum does. I knew all the right answers, but I was honest. There was only question I couldn't answer 'correctly.'
"Does your child imitate faces that you make?"
No. Shane never sits still and is too busy trying to do what he wants to do. If you stick out your tongue, he will laugh and try to pull it an extra foot out of your mouth, but he does not stick out his tongue in reply.
When the doctor came in, she grilled me on my Baby's life. How much milk does Shane drink in a day? How many we diapers? Poop diapers? Wake-up time? Bed time? It turns out I knew most of the information fairly quickly (shocking.), but there was one area the doctor became intensely interested in.
"How many words does your son speak?"
"A few."
Friday, July 13, 2012
Separation Anxiety
There's a lot I could write about today, but I'll start (and maybe finish) with the easy stuff.
Brogan has separation anxiety. If Carrie or I move a foot from him, he scootches in to close the distance. If we leave a room, he follows. If we go upstairs, outside, or in the bathroom he whines. If Brogan is locked up in the kitchen or his crate for the night, he howls out his pains. Whenever I first come down in the mornings, Brogan acts like he hasn't seen me in ages! I've learned to let him out on the back porch before I pet him, because if I acknowledge him too soon I'll get a yellow stream of joy/submission.
Hopefully, this will ease as time goes on. He's showing less resistant to the crate, but the moment you act like you're going to leave...well, it's a good thing Shane is a sound sleeper. My wife is hit or miss in that department. If I let her go to bed first, she'll sleep through the howling. If she's awake and he starts howling, it gives me trouble going to sleep having a stressed wife next to me who clinches the sheets with every howl! It hasn't been a week since Brogan was introduced to our home, so there's still hope he'll adjust. If not, we'll have to speak to the vet when it's time to get him 'tutored.' (That's a reference to an old Far Side comic. If you got it, you're cool.)
The separation anxiety also may go hand in hand with Brogan's personality. He's a total sweetheart, lovebug, cuddler...and ball-less (and he hasn't been snipped yet!). Our tiny cat, Max, figured out early on that she doesn't need claws to be in charge. She snacks from the dog food and will block a hallway off from Brogan if she pleases. Min has taken much longer to adjust. She didn't want to come downstairs for the first several days. I would drag her down and drop her off at the cat pot to make sure she was dropping off her mess. She's walking around downstairs now, but she's still cautious of Brogan. If he gets too close, she hisses and he splits. As long as there's no conflict, I could care less. I want them all to get along at some point, and Brogan not chasing after the cats is the first step in them accepting him.
Min has a tendency to hide under couches, though. Brogan sometimes likes to lay up against couches (especially if i'm sitting on the couch). A few minutes ago, my dog made the mistake of trying to smell under the couch next to me. There was a loud yelp. Brogan flew back from the couch and skidded and slipped on to his belly before running out of the room. A hiss told me exactly what happened. I couldn't find a mark on his nose, thankfully. I flipped up the fabric at the base of the couch and sure enough, there lurked Min poofed up, scared, and ready for action. I flipped the fabric down too quickly and Brogan startled and sprinted out of the room again!
That's my scaredy-cat dog. I hope his bark is deep enough to warn off any intruders before they traumatize him by trying to say hello!
EDIT: In Brogan's defense: he DID bark when one of the dishwasher guys came in. Carrie was proud.
Brogan has separation anxiety. If Carrie or I move a foot from him, he scootches in to close the distance. If we leave a room, he follows. If we go upstairs, outside, or in the bathroom he whines. If Brogan is locked up in the kitchen or his crate for the night, he howls out his pains. Whenever I first come down in the mornings, Brogan acts like he hasn't seen me in ages! I've learned to let him out on the back porch before I pet him, because if I acknowledge him too soon I'll get a yellow stream of joy/submission.
Hopefully, this will ease as time goes on. He's showing less resistant to the crate, but the moment you act like you're going to leave...well, it's a good thing Shane is a sound sleeper. My wife is hit or miss in that department. If I let her go to bed first, she'll sleep through the howling. If she's awake and he starts howling, it gives me trouble going to sleep having a stressed wife next to me who clinches the sheets with every howl! It hasn't been a week since Brogan was introduced to our home, so there's still hope he'll adjust. If not, we'll have to speak to the vet when it's time to get him 'tutored.' (That's a reference to an old Far Side comic. If you got it, you're cool.)
The separation anxiety also may go hand in hand with Brogan's personality. He's a total sweetheart, lovebug, cuddler...and ball-less (and he hasn't been snipped yet!). Our tiny cat, Max, figured out early on that she doesn't need claws to be in charge. She snacks from the dog food and will block a hallway off from Brogan if she pleases. Min has taken much longer to adjust. She didn't want to come downstairs for the first several days. I would drag her down and drop her off at the cat pot to make sure she was dropping off her mess. She's walking around downstairs now, but she's still cautious of Brogan. If he gets too close, she hisses and he splits. As long as there's no conflict, I could care less. I want them all to get along at some point, and Brogan not chasing after the cats is the first step in them accepting him.
Min has a tendency to hide under couches, though. Brogan sometimes likes to lay up against couches (especially if i'm sitting on the couch). A few minutes ago, my dog made the mistake of trying to smell under the couch next to me. There was a loud yelp. Brogan flew back from the couch and skidded and slipped on to his belly before running out of the room. A hiss told me exactly what happened. I couldn't find a mark on his nose, thankfully. I flipped up the fabric at the base of the couch and sure enough, there lurked Min poofed up, scared, and ready for action. I flipped the fabric down too quickly and Brogan startled and sprinted out of the room again!
That's my scaredy-cat dog. I hope his bark is deep enough to warn off any intruders before they traumatize him by trying to say hello!
EDIT: In Brogan's defense: he DID bark when one of the dishwasher guys came in. Carrie was proud.
Wednesday, July 11, 2012
Dog Update: Brogan
Houston, we have a dog update.
Our hound's name is Brogan.
Carrie came up with the name first, so I immediately resisted it. At the time, I'd just had a new dog I wasn't sure I wanted sprung on me and I figured I should at least get to name him. Plus, brogans are a type of shoe.
I did some internet research and thought about Flynn, but after praying and thinking on it I had to admit: Brogan had a nice ring to it. For one, it allows for nicknames like "Bro" and "Bro-gee." For another, this dog lives underfoot. He is so attached/insecure that he's constantly tripping me up. If I move more than a foot, he pops up and moves right along with me. It's endearing and...underfoot. The name Brogan fits perfectly. Carrie called it and I'd be a fool to resist a better idea than any I've got. Genius is recognizing when to go with someone else's idea over yours.
When it comes to dog names, I'm going to claim to be genius.
Welcome to the clan, Brogan.
Our hound's name is Brogan.
Carrie came up with the name first, so I immediately resisted it. At the time, I'd just had a new dog I wasn't sure I wanted sprung on me and I figured I should at least get to name him. Plus, brogans are a type of shoe.
I did some internet research and thought about Flynn, but after praying and thinking on it I had to admit: Brogan had a nice ring to it. For one, it allows for nicknames like "Bro" and "Bro-gee." For another, this dog lives underfoot. He is so attached/insecure that he's constantly tripping me up. If I move more than a foot, he pops up and moves right along with me. It's endearing and...underfoot. The name Brogan fits perfectly. Carrie called it and I'd be a fool to resist a better idea than any I've got. Genius is recognizing when to go with someone else's idea over yours.
When it comes to dog names, I'm going to claim to be genius.
Welcome to the clan, Brogan.
Tuesday, July 10, 2012
No New Job Yet
I've applied to 14 schools, scored 2 interviews, and no new position. It's not easy out there! I'm lucky I'm in a position where I have a job I like, so if I can't get this to work I have a place to go. It would be a whole lot scarier if I was unemployed with a new mortgage, puppy, and a young son. Four of my applications were in the last day or two, so there's still time to hear back from them.
Regardless, this is good experience with the job interview process. It's been years since I had to do it, and this time the process is more formalized and difficult.
In the meantime, it's summer class central. I just got done typing up and submitting my work for one class that's due tomorrow. Shane's going to have to drop in with me since I have no child care. My parents and Jama are in TX and Carrie's going to work herself.
Regardless, this is good experience with the job interview process. It's been years since I had to do it, and this time the process is more formalized and difficult.
In the meantime, it's summer class central. I just got done typing up and submitting my work for one class that's due tomorrow. Shane's going to have to drop in with me since I have no child care. My parents and Jama are in TX and Carrie's going to work herself.
Monday, July 9, 2012
Worst Haircut Ever
The presence of fleas in the house makes my scalp itch. I don't have any, but it's psychosomatic. The same thing happens whenever I hear about lice. I had the little demons once and never noticed it. Once someone pointed it out and I got treatment, the itching started. I know what's happening (and why), but it happens nonetheless.
I cut my hair short.
Real short.
It's feels funny with the hair sticking up. I can see my scalp, too! It'll help spot fleas if I ever were to get one, and it will help deal with the heat.
Shane got a haircut, too. Carrie was worried that something might find it's way on to him, and (most importantly) he happened to wander into a bathroom where I had the clippers plugged in and ready to go. I let the boy look at the clippers, feel the vibration, and I hoped they would seem less fantastic. Shane has a tendency to grab at the clippers whenever he gets a haircut, and I wanted to let him handle them so maybe he would stop. Then, I took off the first chunk of hair.
My son was not happy.
Shane has never been a big fan of haircuts, but they've never been a source of tears before. This time, I made a few passes before he was spitting mad. I put on Remy (from Ratatouille) and enlisted my wife to try and soothe his nerves.
That was a negative, Ghost Rider.
Shane got more pissed, but because we were already half-way done, Carrie and I tried to plow through. After all, Shane has a small head compared to ours! Ten more swipes and we're done, right?
Wrrrrr......wait for it....WRONG!
There were tears and frustration galore. Shane was swiping his hands and got hair on them. Somewhere along the way, he shoved his hands in his mouth and got hair in there too. Between the crying, the hair, and the sputtering rage.....this is what happened.
I cut my hair short.
Real short.
It's feels funny with the hair sticking up. I can see my scalp, too! It'll help spot fleas if I ever were to get one, and it will help deal with the heat.
Shane got a haircut, too. Carrie was worried that something might find it's way on to him, and (most importantly) he happened to wander into a bathroom where I had the clippers plugged in and ready to go. I let the boy look at the clippers, feel the vibration, and I hoped they would seem less fantastic. Shane has a tendency to grab at the clippers whenever he gets a haircut, and I wanted to let him handle them so maybe he would stop. Then, I took off the first chunk of hair.
My son was not happy.
Shane has never been a big fan of haircuts, but they've never been a source of tears before. This time, I made a few passes before he was spitting mad. I put on Remy (from Ratatouille) and enlisted my wife to try and soothe his nerves.
That was a negative, Ghost Rider.
Shane got more pissed, but because we were already half-way done, Carrie and I tried to plow through. After all, Shane has a small head compared to ours! Ten more swipes and we're done, right?
Wrrrrr......wait for it....WRONG!
There were tears and frustration galore. Shane was swiping his hands and got hair on them. Somewhere along the way, he shoved his hands in his mouth and got hair in there too. Between the crying, the hair, and the sputtering rage.....this is what happened.
Food Network Star
Carrie and I watch Food Network Star every Sunday. No, I have no skill at cooking. Every time I offer to try and learn to cook something, my wife tells me to "go back in the other room and relax." Carrie enjoys "having the edge on me" and keeping me helpless outside of bagels and peanut butter.
Back to the show, Carrie enjoys the cooking, and I enjoy the personal stories. Usually I pick a person or two, whom I like their attitudes and style. That said, one of the things I enjoy the most is how positive the feedback from the judges is. I feel like most reality TV series try to create drama and make fun of contestants. The Food Network is consistent in treating everyone like they may win, or at least come in contact with the network again. Don't get me wrong, if there's a problem they point it out. They don't browbeat or try to make it into a huge issue, though. The judges make their point, give constructive criticism, and the show goes on. I wish every manager/boss/chief in real life followed their example. Some of the contestants who aren't finalists have 'won' simply by being on the show and having food celebrities honestly critique their food.
I find it to be entertaining, positive human drama. I've absorbed some cooking knowledge from the show even if I have no ability to put any of it to practical use. Plus, the show counts as quality time with my wife and I talk to MomMom about the results each week, as well.
Keep it up, Food Network. I'm an extremely, unlikely fan.
But a fan nonetheless.
Back to the show, Carrie enjoys the cooking, and I enjoy the personal stories. Usually I pick a person or two, whom I like their attitudes and style. That said, one of the things I enjoy the most is how positive the feedback from the judges is. I feel like most reality TV series try to create drama and make fun of contestants. The Food Network is consistent in treating everyone like they may win, or at least come in contact with the network again. Don't get me wrong, if there's a problem they point it out. They don't browbeat or try to make it into a huge issue, though. The judges make their point, give constructive criticism, and the show goes on. I wish every manager/boss/chief in real life followed their example. Some of the contestants who aren't finalists have 'won' simply by being on the show and having food celebrities honestly critique their food.
I find it to be entertaining, positive human drama. I've absorbed some cooking knowledge from the show even if I have no ability to put any of it to practical use. Plus, the show counts as quality time with my wife and I talk to MomMom about the results each week, as well.
Keep it up, Food Network. I'm an extremely, unlikely fan.
But a fan nonetheless.
Hilarious
Maybe I'll do something like this with Shane. I'll make him interview himself every five years!
http://www.cnn.com/video/?hpt=hp_c2#/video/us/2012/07/09/vo-man-interviews-12-yr-old-self.jeremiahmcdonald-com
The video is a 32-year old man talking with a video of his 12-year old self. Unfortunately, I can't embed it since it's not on YouTube (or at least I found it on CNN and I'm too lazy to see if it's on YouTube or not).
http://www.cnn.com/video/?hpt=hp_c2#/video/us/2012/07/09/vo-man-interviews-12-yr-old-self.jeremiahmcdonald-com
The video is a 32-year old man talking with a video of his 12-year old self. Unfortunately, I can't embed it since it's not on YouTube (or at least I found it on CNN and I'm too lazy to see if it's on YouTube or not).
Sunday, July 8, 2012
Surprise Part Two: Fleas!
Our new puppy came packing new houseguests! My wife was shocked.
Carrie's never been a dog-owner, but I've done this song and dance before. Carrie treated the dog with Frontline, and half a day later I gave him his first flea bath. It's going to be wash-rinse-repeat until it's time for the next Frontline treatment in a month. From there it should be clean sailing until winter. Nothing kills fleas better than a nice freeze, IMO. I'll never forget how horrified Carrie was when she brushed the puppy and saw a flea hit the kitchen floor. Then she saw there was more than one! I popped them all for good measure.
With our first dog in Texas, the fleas got so bad I had them as a kid for a little bit. My parents had to flea bomb the house and the little bloodsuckers kept coming back! We moved to where there was winter, threw the dog out in the snow, and POOF no more flea re-occurrences. That was before Frontline, though. This stuff seems to work really well, so there's a good chance it's game-over for the wee nuisances already. If it doesn't work, we just have to hold out until winter (assuming winter is an actual winter and not just a late fall with all of the 100+ degree weather).
It was after this discovery, my wife asked if she'd jumped into dog ownership too quickly.
I disagreed.
To begin with, my wife does not like dogs. She picked out Indiana for my parents, but she's always been uncomfortable around her. Indiana is high energy and weighs less than Shane. She's harmless, but she can jump in excitement. This bothers Carrie. My wife used to work at an animal hospital. She's wrestled much larger dogs than Indiana, but wrangling scared and aggressive dogs has left it's mark. I've always figured I would have to find an angle to work if I ever wanted a Fido.
When we bought the new house, I started teasing my dog-fearing wife that "We can own a dog! We have a yard now!" It was not appreciated (but then again, that helped make it funny for me....I'm bad).
A little over a week ago, we talked about how much Shane loved Indiana and how I thought dogs were a great companion for little boys. I then said "We aren't ready for a dog, period. Puppies are a lot of work. Shane needs to be older. Maybe some time after your boss retires, and if you're a stay-at-home mom. Two to three years?"
Carrie, no longer worried I would be bringing a dog home or forcing the issue for years, started to do research on what type of dog she'd be okay with. She did a ton of research on her own. Several days later, we talked and looked up a breed or two together. One of the breeds was the Burmese Mountain Dog. I believe Carrie then mentioned something about "maybe getting a retriever, because they're good with kids."
Saturday was the perfect storm. Shane and I were out of the house. Carrie ended up working from home. The mysterious call for Carrie to show a horse from someone Carrie had never heard of came. Carrie showed the horse. The puppy was at the barn being manhandled by a two-year old. The puppy is big enough and old enough that Shane couldn't kill him.
The rest is history.
My mom is ECSTATIC, btw. I told her I wanted a dog at some point, but the plan was years from now! Nana had this quote for me, "God laughs at the plans of men." Ain't it true? I think this is one of those situations where everything happens so perfectly, you would have to be a stubborn fool to fight against the flow of events.
I wanted a dog one day. I got him yesterday. I decided to be happy about it.
And I am.
Carrie's never been a dog-owner, but I've done this song and dance before. Carrie treated the dog with Frontline, and half a day later I gave him his first flea bath. It's going to be wash-rinse-repeat until it's time for the next Frontline treatment in a month. From there it should be clean sailing until winter. Nothing kills fleas better than a nice freeze, IMO. I'll never forget how horrified Carrie was when she brushed the puppy and saw a flea hit the kitchen floor. Then she saw there was more than one! I popped them all for good measure.
With our first dog in Texas, the fleas got so bad I had them as a kid for a little bit. My parents had to flea bomb the house and the little bloodsuckers kept coming back! We moved to where there was winter, threw the dog out in the snow, and POOF no more flea re-occurrences. That was before Frontline, though. This stuff seems to work really well, so there's a good chance it's game-over for the wee nuisances already. If it doesn't work, we just have to hold out until winter (assuming winter is an actual winter and not just a late fall with all of the 100+ degree weather).
It was after this discovery, my wife asked if she'd jumped into dog ownership too quickly.
I disagreed.
To begin with, my wife does not like dogs. She picked out Indiana for my parents, but she's always been uncomfortable around her. Indiana is high energy and weighs less than Shane. She's harmless, but she can jump in excitement. This bothers Carrie. My wife used to work at an animal hospital. She's wrestled much larger dogs than Indiana, but wrangling scared and aggressive dogs has left it's mark. I've always figured I would have to find an angle to work if I ever wanted a Fido.
When we bought the new house, I started teasing my dog-fearing wife that "We can own a dog! We have a yard now!" It was not appreciated (but then again, that helped make it funny for me....I'm bad).
A little over a week ago, we talked about how much Shane loved Indiana and how I thought dogs were a great companion for little boys. I then said "We aren't ready for a dog, period. Puppies are a lot of work. Shane needs to be older. Maybe some time after your boss retires, and if you're a stay-at-home mom. Two to three years?"
Carrie, no longer worried I would be bringing a dog home or forcing the issue for years, started to do research on what type of dog she'd be okay with. She did a ton of research on her own. Several days later, we talked and looked up a breed or two together. One of the breeds was the Burmese Mountain Dog. I believe Carrie then mentioned something about "maybe getting a retriever, because they're good with kids."
Saturday was the perfect storm. Shane and I were out of the house. Carrie ended up working from home. The mysterious call for Carrie to show a horse from someone Carrie had never heard of came. Carrie showed the horse. The puppy was at the barn being manhandled by a two-year old. The puppy is big enough and old enough that Shane couldn't kill him.
The rest is history.
My mom is ECSTATIC, btw. I told her I wanted a dog at some point, but the plan was years from now! Nana had this quote for me, "God laughs at the plans of men." Ain't it true? I think this is one of those situations where everything happens so perfectly, you would have to be a stubborn fool to fight against the flow of events.
I wanted a dog one day. I got him yesterday. I decided to be happy about it.
And I am.
Saturday, July 7, 2012
Surprise!
My wife's done it again.
Today started off as a Saturday. A day of rest, right? It ended up being over 100 degrees and I mowed the back lawn and then drove an hour to help a friend move into a third floor apartment with no elevator and many, many stairs. In my rush to make the schedule work, I did not drink the appropriate amount of morning caffeine to sustain my addiction. The constant sweating probably accelerated the withdrawal symptoms.
On my way back from helping my friend move, I was exhausted and tried calling Carrie to see if she could pick up Shane from my parents (who so graciously watched him so that I could help my friend move). I called multiple times (because I was that thoroughly soaked in sweat), but Carrie didn't pick up her phone. I couldn't risk Shane overstaying his welcome, so I scooted over to get him from my parents. He threw a fit when he saw me, as usual (keep this in mind...it may be important later). My head started to throb from exhaustion, caffeine, or some unholy combination of the two when I finally heard from Carrie.
To make a long story short, someone had a sudden need for a talented trainer to show off horse for a sale and they called my wife. It was a two-hour drive away, but she jumped at the chance. Our phone conversation was "I can't talk, I have to ride a horse to sell. Love you! Bye!" I was dying for a break, but it sounded like a good opportunity for Carrie. I didn't mention I felt like crap, brought Shane home, and watched him in a half-daze until 6:30 PM.
That was my state of health and sanity when Carrie first arrived. I was eager to pawn the boy off, so that I could change out of my still damp with sweat clothes (truly) and shower. Instead, she wanted me to bring the boy outside so she could show him a surprise. I like to think God built me with a lot of patience/endurance so I groaned and went with the flow. I spotted a yard tool I'd left out this morning and it was vexing me anyway. While Carrie was putting on Shane's shoes, I picked up the tool and went to put it in the garage.
Surprise! A dog was in my backyard.
Today started off as a Saturday. A day of rest, right? It ended up being over 100 degrees and I mowed the back lawn and then drove an hour to help a friend move into a third floor apartment with no elevator and many, many stairs. In my rush to make the schedule work, I did not drink the appropriate amount of morning caffeine to sustain my addiction. The constant sweating probably accelerated the withdrawal symptoms.
On my way back from helping my friend move, I was exhausted and tried calling Carrie to see if she could pick up Shane from my parents (who so graciously watched him so that I could help my friend move). I called multiple times (because I was that thoroughly soaked in sweat), but Carrie didn't pick up her phone. I couldn't risk Shane overstaying his welcome, so I scooted over to get him from my parents. He threw a fit when he saw me, as usual (keep this in mind...it may be important later). My head started to throb from exhaustion, caffeine, or some unholy combination of the two when I finally heard from Carrie.
To make a long story short, someone had a sudden need for a talented trainer to show off horse for a sale and they called my wife. It was a two-hour drive away, but she jumped at the chance. Our phone conversation was "I can't talk, I have to ride a horse to sell. Love you! Bye!" I was dying for a break, but it sounded like a good opportunity for Carrie. I didn't mention I felt like crap, brought Shane home, and watched him in a half-daze until 6:30 PM.
That was my state of health and sanity when Carrie first arrived. I was eager to pawn the boy off, so that I could change out of my still damp with sweat clothes (truly) and shower. Instead, she wanted me to bring the boy outside so she could show him a surprise. I like to think God built me with a lot of patience/endurance so I groaned and went with the flow. I spotted a yard tool I'd left out this morning and it was vexing me anyway. While Carrie was putting on Shane's shoes, I picked up the tool and went to put it in the garage.
Surprise! A dog was in my backyard.
The puppy is a Golden Retriever mother crossed with a Burmese Mountain Dog father. He's four-months old. Shane loves him. The dog is extremely docile. He lets Shane sit on him and try to ride him like a horse. Shane is not docile when Dada worries about the boy squishing the puppy and forces him to not ride said dog like a horse.
The story goes while at the barn Carrie saw this little guy being extremely docile amidst a two-year old manhandling him playfully. The owner of the horse offered Carrie close to a 60% discount since she helped secure a sale, and BAM! Instant dog-ownership. I'm amazed my wife had a checkbook on her. Carrie had been researching dogs early in the week and we'd both looked up Burmese Mountain Dogs. We read some facts Carrie was a fan of. All these happy coincidences coincided and my wife said something like "Who am I to overlook all these hints. It was meant to be!"
Apparently, Carrie didn't remember how the first episode of surprise pet worked out. Dogs are way better than cats, and this is a nice one. I did want a dog at some point, but I told Carrie it would be years down the road. I wanted an older boy, and her to not be working to be able to give the dog proper care. I'm still not sure how annoyed I should or should not be about this situation.
I'll figure it out tomorrow....along with an official name for the fella. It's looking like Flynn.
Friday, July 6, 2012
A Shane Post (since I don't do enough of those)
I got to feel like a good father this morning. Shane and I played, played and played some more. He loves running around the basement. I have a video of him running himself dizzy I should probably post.
Thursday, Carrie was gone from 7:30 AM to 11:00 PM last night on business. To help pass some of the time, Shane and I visited Nana's house. I admit, sometimes I am jealous of Nana's power over my son. He loves her. My mom is the most natural baby person I've ever met. Where I get tired of playing the same game over and over, she seems to get energized by the presence of a baby.
And Shane reacts to her. I've seen the tears and fits to prove it when I try to take him out of her arms. Shane will laugh and play for me, but if Nana's around he wants her to hold him and Dada to go take a break elsewhere.
While Carrie was out, I decided to spoil Shane and take him to the pool. You would think this would make me #1 Dada. However, I had to drop by my parents house first to pick up my cellphone (plus, they had the pool passes and I wanted to get in for free). Shane saw Nana. When I packed him up to go to the pool with my Dad and the foster kids, he went ballistics. There were tears galore. Shane did not want to leave Nana with the evil Dada.
He cried the whole way to the pool.
Thankfully, it was only a 3 minute commute. I got to be Super-Dada for running around in the baby pool with him for an hour. There was one time early on where Shane fell and I didn't react fast enough, but he learned to really like the water. I want to do it again, so he doesn't only equate leaving Nana's house as me tearing him away from Baby Paradise.
Ironically, Nana apologizes to me sometimes for feeling she's not been the grandparent she wants to be! She feels like she devotes a lot of time to the foster kids, and not as much as she wants to Shane. Nana, you are super. The boy loves you dearly. I'm going to have to try and up my game so that he doesn't always freak out when I come to pick him up. It's heart-rending sometimes. I feel like my son is blessed to be a part of my family, because I had such good parents. My prayer is that I can create the same family atmosphere for Shane that I had growing up. No family is ever perfect, but my clan bonded. Thank you, Nana, for all of your help with child care when Carrie and I are trying to work and make ends meet.
My dad had a funny comment as Shane was bawling. It was something along the lines of "Get used to disappointing your kids. You'll be doing it your whole life!" Out of context it sounds cynical. If you know my dad, you'd see the wisdom and humor behind it. Kids will always want things, including things they should not have. I'm going to be a bully in Shane's mind every time I prevent him from jabbing a fork in an electric socket or I pull him away from a hot stove. At 16, I'm going to disappoint him when a corvette never shows up in the driveway. I love my son, and I'll do what's best for him...even when it's the last thing he wants.
Boy, I don't know if I could have sold that line to the 2 year old version of me. Life's funny like that, isn't it?
Thursday, Carrie was gone from 7:30 AM to 11:00 PM last night on business. To help pass some of the time, Shane and I visited Nana's house. I admit, sometimes I am jealous of Nana's power over my son. He loves her. My mom is the most natural baby person I've ever met. Where I get tired of playing the same game over and over, she seems to get energized by the presence of a baby.
And Shane reacts to her. I've seen the tears and fits to prove it when I try to take him out of her arms. Shane will laugh and play for me, but if Nana's around he wants her to hold him and Dada to go take a break elsewhere.
While Carrie was out, I decided to spoil Shane and take him to the pool. You would think this would make me #1 Dada. However, I had to drop by my parents house first to pick up my cellphone (plus, they had the pool passes and I wanted to get in for free). Shane saw Nana. When I packed him up to go to the pool with my Dad and the foster kids, he went ballistics. There were tears galore. Shane did not want to leave Nana with the evil Dada.
He cried the whole way to the pool.
Thankfully, it was only a 3 minute commute. I got to be Super-Dada for running around in the baby pool with him for an hour. There was one time early on where Shane fell and I didn't react fast enough, but he learned to really like the water. I want to do it again, so he doesn't only equate leaving Nana's house as me tearing him away from Baby Paradise.
Ironically, Nana apologizes to me sometimes for feeling she's not been the grandparent she wants to be! She feels like she devotes a lot of time to the foster kids, and not as much as she wants to Shane. Nana, you are super. The boy loves you dearly. I'm going to have to try and up my game so that he doesn't always freak out when I come to pick him up. It's heart-rending sometimes. I feel like my son is blessed to be a part of my family, because I had such good parents. My prayer is that I can create the same family atmosphere for Shane that I had growing up. No family is ever perfect, but my clan bonded. Thank you, Nana, for all of your help with child care when Carrie and I are trying to work and make ends meet.
My dad had a funny comment as Shane was bawling. It was something along the lines of "Get used to disappointing your kids. You'll be doing it your whole life!" Out of context it sounds cynical. If you know my dad, you'd see the wisdom and humor behind it. Kids will always want things, including things they should not have. I'm going to be a bully in Shane's mind every time I prevent him from jabbing a fork in an electric socket or I pull him away from a hot stove. At 16, I'm going to disappoint him when a corvette never shows up in the driveway. I love my son, and I'll do what's best for him...even when it's the last thing he wants.
Boy, I don't know if I could have sold that line to the 2 year old version of me. Life's funny like that, isn't it?
Thursday, July 5, 2012
Time flies
Time is something I think about often nowadays.
In my childhood, I remember the summers lasting a lifetime and school years lasting an eternity. Each one (especially the school year) seemed to go on forever. The days were long. The hours filled with many activities.
When I entered high school, my school switched to a block schedule. That's when I first recall time 'speeding up.' Instead of spending a bored eternity in 7 classes each day, I was only trapped in 3.5 bored eternities. Counting off finished classes was much easier, and when the whole class was spent in a daydream about not being in class it didn't matter if I was in the class for a little longer or not. The school year went by in a blaze.
Time shifted into a higher gear again when college started. The classes were less frequent; the semesters shorter; the breaks longer. Oh, there were definitely bits that dragged. I had more free time than I used to though, and without needing to wake up at the crack of dawn I would sleep longer and later (as a freshman, my earliest class was at 1:30 PM three times a week..which I did oversleep and show up late to a couple of times).
Working full-time provided another boost to Father Time's pace. In my last year of college, I was working full time as a substitute teacher (35hr/wk) and part time at the regional library as a page (20hr/wk). The expectations were very low and easy to exceed, but I enjoyed the work (at least some of it) and the company. My friends and I found plenty of adventures and games in the off hours as well.
Becoming a full teacher upped the expectations, my efforts, and ate up more of the day. Somewhere along the way, I got in the habit of counting down periods of the day, days of the week, and even weeks in the year. I'm a math nerd, so I'd even calculate progress in fractions and what percent each period of time was worth. This had the effect of making time feel like it was slipping by even faster. On a daily work basis, this was welcomed! Still, I felt like there wasn't as much time in the day as there used to be.
When Carrie got pregnant, I wondered what I used to do with all my spare time! Then Shane arrived and I wondered how I could not have mastered at least a couple foreign languages in the time Carrie was pregnant! My little man eats up much of my day playing and pooping. Some hundred veteran parents told me "The days are long, and the years short."
Boy, were they right.
There are times when I count every minute until nap time. Shane will be tired, fussy, and highly resistant to the idea. Napping would be the best thing for him, but he's sure that the moment he goes to sleep the real fun will start. At those moments, you can imagine how slow time crawls. However, I am always amazed when I look at baby pictures. Shane sprouts inches in every one. It's shocking how fast he's developed. If I had a choice, the days would shorten, but the weeks would lengthen! What's it going to be like when Shane's older, or (Heaven allow) I become a grandfather one day? Does time slow down again, or does it keep accelerating at a breakneck pace? I know it's not actually going any faster, but maybe I've had too much practice at passing the boring bits.
Just a Shane's-nap-time-musing.
In my childhood, I remember the summers lasting a lifetime and school years lasting an eternity. Each one (especially the school year) seemed to go on forever. The days were long. The hours filled with many activities.
When I entered high school, my school switched to a block schedule. That's when I first recall time 'speeding up.' Instead of spending a bored eternity in 7 classes each day, I was only trapped in 3.5 bored eternities. Counting off finished classes was much easier, and when the whole class was spent in a daydream about not being in class it didn't matter if I was in the class for a little longer or not. The school year went by in a blaze.
Time shifted into a higher gear again when college started. The classes were less frequent; the semesters shorter; the breaks longer. Oh, there were definitely bits that dragged. I had more free time than I used to though, and without needing to wake up at the crack of dawn I would sleep longer and later (as a freshman, my earliest class was at 1:30 PM three times a week..which I did oversleep and show up late to a couple of times).
Working full-time provided another boost to Father Time's pace. In my last year of college, I was working full time as a substitute teacher (35hr/wk) and part time at the regional library as a page (20hr/wk). The expectations were very low and easy to exceed, but I enjoyed the work (at least some of it) and the company. My friends and I found plenty of adventures and games in the off hours as well.
Becoming a full teacher upped the expectations, my efforts, and ate up more of the day. Somewhere along the way, I got in the habit of counting down periods of the day, days of the week, and even weeks in the year. I'm a math nerd, so I'd even calculate progress in fractions and what percent each period of time was worth. This had the effect of making time feel like it was slipping by even faster. On a daily work basis, this was welcomed! Still, I felt like there wasn't as much time in the day as there used to be.
When Carrie got pregnant, I wondered what I used to do with all my spare time! Then Shane arrived and I wondered how I could not have mastered at least a couple foreign languages in the time Carrie was pregnant! My little man eats up much of my day playing and pooping. Some hundred veteran parents told me "The days are long, and the years short."
Boy, were they right.
There are times when I count every minute until nap time. Shane will be tired, fussy, and highly resistant to the idea. Napping would be the best thing for him, but he's sure that the moment he goes to sleep the real fun will start. At those moments, you can imagine how slow time crawls. However, I am always amazed when I look at baby pictures. Shane sprouts inches in every one. It's shocking how fast he's developed. If I had a choice, the days would shorten, but the weeks would lengthen! What's it going to be like when Shane's older, or (Heaven allow) I become a grandfather one day? Does time slow down again, or does it keep accelerating at a breakneck pace? I know it's not actually going any faster, but maybe I've had too much practice at passing the boring bits.
Just a Shane's-nap-time-musing.
Wednesday, July 4, 2012
Summer Goals
Every summer, I make goals for myself. This summer is no exception.
This year I have three main goals:
1) Take a whole lot of the county's academy courses ( >= 10 credits)
2) Fix up the house from outside to in
3) Get Shane to drink from a cup independently
Goal #1 is to help get a raise next summer if I don't get a tech job. Goal #2 is because we just moved and I want it done before work starts up. Goal #3 is because I keep reading about "The bottle is the root of all evil" and I figure it's good to have goals in general.
Yesterday, Carrie and I had a day 'off' while Genevieve watched Shane. This constituted a Home Depot run, lunch out, and hours of yard work for me. I chopped up old overgrown rose bushes (those suckers are sharp!) and pulled weeds the whole time. The day 'off' constituted a Home Depot run, lunch out, and then feeling sick and taking a three hour nap for Carrie. She was bitten by a tick last week, and they gave her antibiotics for Lyme disease. She must be feeling better this morning though, because she already hung a picture and sanded down the sunroom doors so that they close easier.
Goal #3.....well, if you saw my post yesterday where I was frustrated, you know that there's a lot of room to grow! Oh well. You can hand a baby water, but you can't make them drink it. If anything, you have to be prepared to clean up after it.
Happy 4th of July!
This year I have three main goals:
1) Take a whole lot of the county's academy courses ( >= 10 credits)
2) Fix up the house from outside to in
3) Get Shane to drink from a cup independently
Goal #1 is to help get a raise next summer if I don't get a tech job. Goal #2 is because we just moved and I want it done before work starts up. Goal #3 is because I keep reading about "The bottle is the root of all evil" and I figure it's good to have goals in general.
Yesterday, Carrie and I had a day 'off' while Genevieve watched Shane. This constituted a Home Depot run, lunch out, and hours of yard work for me. I chopped up old overgrown rose bushes (those suckers are sharp!) and pulled weeds the whole time. The day 'off' constituted a Home Depot run, lunch out, and then feeling sick and taking a three hour nap for Carrie. She was bitten by a tick last week, and they gave her antibiotics for Lyme disease. She must be feeling better this morning though, because she already hung a picture and sanded down the sunroom doors so that they close easier.
Goal #3.....well, if you saw my post yesterday where I was frustrated, you know that there's a lot of room to grow! Oh well. You can hand a baby water, but you can't make them drink it. If anything, you have to be prepared to clean up after it.
Happy 4th of July!
Monday, July 2, 2012
Friday Night Storms
Friday night an epic storm swept through our area. Carrie and I were just laying down when the house started to shake. My first thought was "Is this what an earthquake feels like?" My second thought was "Wow, the wind is loud." Carrie and I raised the blinds and saw trees bending, shed doors swinging open, and the clouds brewing up trouble.
Immediately, we turned on the TV. Carrie ran downstairs to get the laptop. She was worried and the time it took for the TV to power up and me to change the channel was unacceptable for her nerves. She needed to be moving. By the time she ran back upstairs with the laptop, we'd both heard the same news. Severe thunderstorms. A real doozy.
My wife's first thought was Shane. She was scared for him, and scared for the house. I didn't want to wake him if it wasn't necessary. I told Carrie to take Shane's playpen on the main floor to the basement. I went to grab the aerobed from the guest bedroom. My plan was to avoid waking Shane if necessary, but have a bolt hole in the basement if we needed it. Afterwards, we grabbed flashlights, batteries, and went back upstairs to be near our boy and watch the news.
The windows shook and moved, but nothing broke and the storm passed over. We were relatively unscathed except for our shed doors blowing open and trees bending more than a tree should. Two million other people weren't as lucky.
Saturday morning was when I figured out how bad our area was hit. My father-in-law called to check in on us, and I turned around and called my parents to check in on them. The cells wouldn't connect. Their landline was down, as well. The news reported that two million homes were without power as far away as Ohio. Shane and I drove over to my parents to check in. Traffic lights were dark and there were some people doing silly things in traffic.
When Shane and I arrived at my parents, it was easy to see power was out for the neighborhood. Thankfully, it was still acceptable outside and the triple digit heatwave wasn't supposed to kick in until after noon. I immediately told my parents that they were free to stay in our new house as long as they needed. Jama's a Southerner from the Gulf coastline, but without A/C I figured the house would go beyond even her limits.
In the end, it all worked out wonderfully. Around 3 PM, my brother Patrick knocked on our door suffering from internet withdrawal. He had his computer, a sleeping bag, and a 2-liter of Mountain Dew to his name. He wanted to stay for as long as the juice wasn't flowing to my parents! Three hours later, the rest of the clan and Matt's fiance showed up.
Carrie was an awesome hostess. She did a lightning clean-up before they arrived, and cooked everyone dinner. Afterwards, she improvised some of the best muffins from scratch. I couldn't help but laugh and grin ear-to-ear as she was dancing and giddy from tasting the batter. The night ended with me putting Shane to bed while a round of Spades was played. The clan had received news that power was restored an hour earlier, and they packed back in to their cars and headed home.
It was great having a home large enough and with enough parking to accommodate my family when they were in need. I really enjoyed having them over. It sounds like it may become a monthly get-together! I certainly hope so. Next time, I hope a twin can come too. Megan spent Friday night trapped in an elevator at her apartment complex. The lights were out in her section of the city so she and her husband weren't able to make the outing. I still feel like I owe her big for offering to babysit for free so that Carrie and I could go out for our anniversary.
Anyway, that's the quick-snippet of our storm weathering. Patrick stayed over the night, and as far as I can tell most of our area was back to normal lickity-split. We were some of the fortunate few. My thoughts and prayers go out to the hundreds of thousands who were not as lucky.
Immediately, we turned on the TV. Carrie ran downstairs to get the laptop. She was worried and the time it took for the TV to power up and me to change the channel was unacceptable for her nerves. She needed to be moving. By the time she ran back upstairs with the laptop, we'd both heard the same news. Severe thunderstorms. A real doozy.
My wife's first thought was Shane. She was scared for him, and scared for the house. I didn't want to wake him if it wasn't necessary. I told Carrie to take Shane's playpen on the main floor to the basement. I went to grab the aerobed from the guest bedroom. My plan was to avoid waking Shane if necessary, but have a bolt hole in the basement if we needed it. Afterwards, we grabbed flashlights, batteries, and went back upstairs to be near our boy and watch the news.
The windows shook and moved, but nothing broke and the storm passed over. We were relatively unscathed except for our shed doors blowing open and trees bending more than a tree should. Two million other people weren't as lucky.
Saturday morning was when I figured out how bad our area was hit. My father-in-law called to check in on us, and I turned around and called my parents to check in on them. The cells wouldn't connect. Their landline was down, as well. The news reported that two million homes were without power as far away as Ohio. Shane and I drove over to my parents to check in. Traffic lights were dark and there were some people doing silly things in traffic.
When Shane and I arrived at my parents, it was easy to see power was out for the neighborhood. Thankfully, it was still acceptable outside and the triple digit heatwave wasn't supposed to kick in until after noon. I immediately told my parents that they were free to stay in our new house as long as they needed. Jama's a Southerner from the Gulf coastline, but without A/C I figured the house would go beyond even her limits.
In the end, it all worked out wonderfully. Around 3 PM, my brother Patrick knocked on our door suffering from internet withdrawal. He had his computer, a sleeping bag, and a 2-liter of Mountain Dew to his name. He wanted to stay for as long as the juice wasn't flowing to my parents! Three hours later, the rest of the clan and Matt's fiance showed up.
Carrie was an awesome hostess. She did a lightning clean-up before they arrived, and cooked everyone dinner. Afterwards, she improvised some of the best muffins from scratch. I couldn't help but laugh and grin ear-to-ear as she was dancing and giddy from tasting the batter. The night ended with me putting Shane to bed while a round of Spades was played. The clan had received news that power was restored an hour earlier, and they packed back in to their cars and headed home.
It was great having a home large enough and with enough parking to accommodate my family when they were in need. I really enjoyed having them over. It sounds like it may become a monthly get-together! I certainly hope so. Next time, I hope a twin can come too. Megan spent Friday night trapped in an elevator at her apartment complex. The lights were out in her section of the city so she and her husband weren't able to make the outing. I still feel like I owe her big for offering to babysit for free so that Carrie and I could go out for our anniversary.
Anyway, that's the quick-snippet of our storm weathering. Patrick stayed over the night, and as far as I can tell most of our area was back to normal lickity-split. We were some of the fortunate few. My thoughts and prayers go out to the hundreds of thousands who were not as lucky.
My Stubborn Boy
Whenever I point out how stubborn my son is, my wife says "I wonder where he gets that from?"
Shane has started resisting solid food more and more lately. Today, I've offered baby cereal w/applesauce, a Gerber 3rd stage chicken dinner, and Ritz crackers to no avail. I did get him to eat some cheese at one point, but he's been pissed off every time I offer him anything but a bottle. I eventually caved and offered a bottle, but I made him hold it up. THAT made him spitting mad. Shane ended up holding the bottle long enough to get a meal in, and all the fussing tuckered him out. He's sleeping in the other room while I type this.
It's hard to know what battles to wage sometimes. Nana had me on bottles until I was close to 3 or 4. The books and online articles I read all say "phase out (or get rid of) those bottles now! Eat more, drink less!" Do I go with has Shane happy and healthy? Or do I shake the boat and force the solid food issue? Shane's healthy. No doctor has said otherwise. I asked Nana if I was as willful of a child as Shane is and she said "Who knows? We gave you whatever you wanted." I like to think I turned out (mostly) fine, and the spoiling stopped at one point (Trust me, I spent 7th-11th grade grounded from electronics on weekdays! No C's were allowed.).
Such is parenting. It's all decisions and doing your best to make that decision work while praying you don't screw your kid up 20 years down the road, right? For now, I'm going to stop buying whole milk and transition Shane down to 2% once these gallons run out. He's been doing better with water too, so I plan to offer that between milks and keep on offering solid food. Hopefully, it's just a teething thing and he'll go back to eating solid food again soon enough.
Time to sneak upstairs and get Shane's sheets. He somehow managed to pull down his diaper and pee out the side or something this morning. There was a big old wet spot on the bed, but the diaper wasn't full enough to have been an overflow. It ain't always fun, but I do believe the work is good for the soul and it's for a good cause: my son!
I love ya kid, even when you think I'm the devil. Remember that in your teen years, please.
UPDATE: It has to be teething. Shane's been tugging at his ears and wouldn't eat readily for Nana either. Most of what you're reading in this post is a tired and frustrated Dada from a fussy and unhappy baby who's normally much happier. I love being a father and could never go back to a life without the responsibility, but damn it's tiring keeping up. I'm looking forward to when Shane's a little older and a little more independent. I used to have a great time playing with 2 and 3 year olds when I taught Sunday school way back in my teenage years.
Shane has started resisting solid food more and more lately. Today, I've offered baby cereal w/applesauce, a Gerber 3rd stage chicken dinner, and Ritz crackers to no avail. I did get him to eat some cheese at one point, but he's been pissed off every time I offer him anything but a bottle. I eventually caved and offered a bottle, but I made him hold it up. THAT made him spitting mad. Shane ended up holding the bottle long enough to get a meal in, and all the fussing tuckered him out. He's sleeping in the other room while I type this.
It's hard to know what battles to wage sometimes. Nana had me on bottles until I was close to 3 or 4. The books and online articles I read all say "phase out (or get rid of) those bottles now! Eat more, drink less!" Do I go with has Shane happy and healthy? Or do I shake the boat and force the solid food issue? Shane's healthy. No doctor has said otherwise. I asked Nana if I was as willful of a child as Shane is and she said "Who knows? We gave you whatever you wanted." I like to think I turned out (mostly) fine, and the spoiling stopped at one point (Trust me, I spent 7th-11th grade grounded from electronics on weekdays! No C's were allowed.).
Such is parenting. It's all decisions and doing your best to make that decision work while praying you don't screw your kid up 20 years down the road, right? For now, I'm going to stop buying whole milk and transition Shane down to 2% once these gallons run out. He's been doing better with water too, so I plan to offer that between milks and keep on offering solid food. Hopefully, it's just a teething thing and he'll go back to eating solid food again soon enough.
Time to sneak upstairs and get Shane's sheets. He somehow managed to pull down his diaper and pee out the side or something this morning. There was a big old wet spot on the bed, but the diaper wasn't full enough to have been an overflow. It ain't always fun, but I do believe the work is good for the soul and it's for a good cause: my son!
I love ya kid, even when you think I'm the devil. Remember that in your teen years, please.
UPDATE: It has to be teething. Shane's been tugging at his ears and wouldn't eat readily for Nana either. Most of what you're reading in this post is a tired and frustrated Dada from a fussy and unhappy baby who's normally much happier. I love being a father and could never go back to a life without the responsibility, but damn it's tiring keeping up. I'm looking forward to when Shane's a little older and a little more independent. I used to have a great time playing with 2 and 3 year olds when I taught Sunday school way back in my teenage years.
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