Saturday, July 25, 2015

Dancing Wyatt!!

Wyatt is holding his grandma's brush/mirror thing. He calls it "rocket" and pretends it's a rocket. Lincoln is very unhappy. Note: If you put the two of them together, you have a whole outfit!!

     Cara and I are losers. I need to make this very clear, from the start. Now, I know this comes as a shock to you, because you've been reading this blog for the last 18 years and have seen nothing but cool, cooler, and awesome, but it's true. One way that we are losers is that we have always thrown dance parties at our house, without inviting anyone. We'll turn off the lights, put on some kickin' Big Willie Style, and go nuts. When little Wyatt was a baby, we'd put him on the floor and dance around him. Sometimes we'd do this to African Dance music, other times we would sing our own dance music. Like, from our mouths. He liked it, but could also tell that we were losers and had fear in his eyes for his future social engagements.
   Well, it's caught on. This is one of my top 4 Wyatt videos, where you get to see what happens in our house nearly every day: (In case you were wondering, here are the other three)


     Oh gosh, where to begin?! Obviously, we begin with that shirt, amirite?! And that awesome somersault that wasn't! Did you see him not step on Lincoln?! Nice work, Wy! What about the fact that he was laying down to avoid going poop go to sleep, hears the music, and without any prompting, speaking, or indication of any kind, immediately stands up and starts dancing?! That's outrageous!! He does this all the time. He can be anywhere in the house, I'll turn on music, and he'll walk into the room, clean off the couch, and start dancing on the couch. Without saying a word. Ever. It's like the music takes control of him.
     I suppose the song I play tends to say "everybody, move your feet and rock your body," so maybe he is just following orders?
     He's not bad!! I noticed once that when he dances, it's all arms. No feet or hip involvement, just arms and spins, just like I taught him. So lately, during our dance parties, I've been working at using my feet a lot more, just to get him to move. But that gorilla thing he did at the beginning, that's all him.
   Cara isn't so much a dancer as she is a Marching Band Conductor. She pretty much just marches and moves one arm in the air, like its a baton and like she thinks she is wearing one of those top hats with the feather in it like the generals in my Stratego game.

   I know that Link hasn't gotten a lot of press around here lately, but he doesn't do anything. He eats a ton, is super happy all the time, loves his brother, and puts things in his mouth. He can scoot around the house pretty well, and is starting to stretch his vocal chords by making sounds like that of a velociraptor announcing it's ready to mate. But he's still pretty darn cute.

It says "Little Dude," not "Little Nude" or "Little Rude" or Little Vude." That last one doesn't even make sense.

There you have it folks. Come back soon for updates on our trip to Glacier National Park, Uncle Garrett's Wedding, and Wyatt's potty schedule.

My mood: glad to be free
Wy's mood: stress dancing
Link's mood: falling over a bit
Cara's mood: wants to sleep through the night
Listening to: Junior Senior

Thursday, June 11, 2015

Bathroom Code Words!!

   Every family has their own terms for bodily functions. Most of them are because we don't actually want our kids saying words like "poop," "pee," and "pisser."

   "Pittle" has always been my favorite urinary diversion, that I heard a family friend using.

   Well, I think we can all agree that "tooting" is standard fare for gaseous exclamations, right? Wyatt has you beat. He has your family's cute little "fart" term beat by a nautical mile.

   If you recall, we've had some difficulty getting him to do the #2. We've had a lot of success in this area, primarily because we moved his bed in to the bathroom, but today we shared a special moment. Wyatt was on the potty, and he wanted off. He'd done his business. I, as the ever-skeptical father, wasn't so convinced the day's word was done. "Are you sure?"

   He was sure.

   But then I hear some ... action ... down south. "Oh, it sounds like you might not be done!" (PARENTING IS THE BEST DON'T WORRY ABOUT IT EVERYTHING'S AWESOME.)

   "No, dad, that's just my bottom snoring."

   "Oh, well, okay if- wait. What?! What'd you say!?"

   "That's my bottom snoring. It snores."

   Oh good gravy this is the greatest thing that has ever happened to me. And that includes that time my brother had to leave before his pizookie came.

Not you, Link!! You'll always be young and innocent and never talking about disgusting bathroom habits!! Me too!!

   In case you missed it, HE CALLS HIS TOOTS "BOTTOM SNORES!!" WHAT'S THAT!? YOU GOT IT? SORRY FOR all the yelling. Can you imagine? How does a kid come up with stuff like this? Not from me, because I don't snore. At all. And I can't claim he gets it from Cara, either, because she doesn't so much "snore" as she "constantly-tries-to-grind-the-air-into-smaller-particles-of air through her throat." It's as if she thinks silence is death! It's like living with an air-compressor that has an always-on setting at night, and a "nag" setting during the day. (All kidding aside: she's the best!)

   But that's all not the point. The point is, I am looking to work "my bottom has to snore" into conversation as soon as possible. Let's all do it!! The first to have it happen naturally wins 18 WyPoints. You have to have video.

   What about you? What are some of your favorite nicknames and code-words for disgusting behaviors?! Leave me a comment and tell me!! I am trying to do pro-blogger things like begging you to leave me comments, or updating my blog more than once every three months, to try and generate some real buzz over here. There are some other tricks I've picked up too. Real pro moves, like commenting on everyone else's blog with things like "Ohmygosh this is the cutest picture of Shalea I have ever seen and it reminds of my post about butt snores here look!" or promising exciting gear giveaways like how I am trying to get rid of my old retainer. Or maybe some worthless WyPoints.

My mood: sun's out/guns out
Listening to: The Shins

Wednesday, April 15, 2015

Clock Watching!!

Working on our sleep form

   Wyatt was - for the first time - extremely interested in the analog clock on our wall. He stands up on the couch, points to it, and asks about each number. My parenting instincts sprung to life and I seized the moment.

   He asks "What does this number do?" It's the one-two. I mean the twelve. I say "Eat lunch." He goes around the rest of the numbers.

1: Play outside
2: Play outside
3: Do a craft
4: Eat a snack
5: Play outside
6: Dinner
7: Play Inside


Now, obviously I was lying. It should really go like this:

1: Watch TV
2: Watch TV
3: Play on my iPad
4: Watch dad watch TV and play on his iPad
5: Think about doing a craft but play video games instead
6: Argue about how many bites of dinner to eat
7: Do push-ups (hundreds)
8: Go to bed

   But my dishonesty isn't the point here. The point is that WYATT GOES TO BED AT 8:00 NOW. That first night, when the hand pointed to eight, I said "Look, Wy! The clock points to eight! What does that mean?!" He thought, smiled, and yelled "Time for bed!!" Then he hopped in bed and we read 5 books. Since then, when the clock points to 8, we hop in bed. That simple.

   This is probably the greatest moment in parenting history, slightly above the invention of Netflix.

   He's gotten a little bit creative with his time-telling, actually. A couple days ago, he looked at the clock and said "It's 2:00 6:00!" (reading both hands) "Clock says CHICKEN NUGGETS." HE said this last part with a very grave, stern face. It was chicken-nugget-o'clock. The clock had spoken. So in a couple hours I turned off my Playstation and made chicken nuggets for the both of us.

   Last year, there were times Wyatt was going to bed at 1:00am. This is not the same as 8:00pm, for those of you doing the math. It helps that the little man rarely naps anymore, and that he trusts the sun cycle ("Go sleep when it's dark, that way sun comes up! Right dad?!") It also helps that at 7:40, both of the hands are really pointing at the eight, so I can say bargain that it's bed time, but I'll give him one more show to watch a few more minutes to write his letters which he can totally do.

My mood: super relieved and proud and also I'm the best
Wyatt's mood: much happier
Lincoln's mood: content
Cara's mood: tired
Listening to: Kanye

Thursday, April 9, 2015

Easter 2015!!

Wow, this picture is so ... very ... looking-at-the-camera ... like. Nothing says Easter like a big ol' flower couch.

   Cara and I have worked pretty hard to get Wyatt to understand some things about Easter. One day, I came home from work and Cara was excited to have Wyatt tell me the Easter story. Then, she was appalled when he talked about nothing but eggs and bunnies for 3 minutes. Cara claims this didn't come from her, but she's been known to lie.

   Still, we knew we'd done our job when Wyatt woke up on Easter Sunday. Cara saw him first, she said "Happy Easter!!" and Wyatt paused, got excited, and said "Jesus is not dead! Jesus is alive!" This is way cuter and way less spiritually-creepy as it is sounding, right now.

   However, by the end of the day he was crying and demanding more eggs with candy in them. The ones without candy weren't good enough.

This cowboy needs more eggs.

   Our neighbors across the street have four boys, and everyone in the family loves Wyatt. They like Cara and tolerate me, but can't get enough of our little heartbreaker. They are the sweetest family, and give meaning to the phrase "It takes a village..." because I will often send Wyatt outside with a note that says "dad can't parent right now please watch me" taped to his chest. They gladly do.

   These fantastic neighbors hid a bunch of eggs for Wyatt while we were at church. When Wyatt found some, they hid some more. They all had candy in them. The ones that Cara hid had Tootsie rolls in them, which is probably worse than no candy at all.

Wyatt unwrapped lots of candy, left it on the floor, and walked away. When asked why he did this, he said "I'm getting it ready for my friends."

My mood: forgetful
Wy's mood: greedy
Lincoln's mood: still much just hungry and/or sleepy
Listening to: Wyatt singing his Baby Cow song

Wednesday, March 25, 2015

Hide And Seek!!

   Wyatt has been all about playing hide and seek lately.

   He's awful at it.

   Here he is hiding behind the curb:

Not sure if he's hiding, crying, praying, or counting. Either way, my parenting style is of the kind that says "quick go in the street but also hide so cars can't see you!!"

   I also have pictures of him hiding behind the world's thinnest tree, shortly after exclaiming "I'm going to go hide behind the tree, dad!!" Our games go a lot like this:



   After a few rounds of this, I told him to stop telling me where he's hiding. He'd respond with. "Oh. Sorry dad!! I'ma go hide behind the tree now."

   He only hid behind the curb, the tree, and his bike.


    When we play inside, it doesn't get much better. He's way more excited to have me find him than to actually hide well, but gets upset if I don't make enough of a game out of it. He did find this little gem of a corner, however:

This is honestly his best hiding spot ever. The blankets in the corner behind the couch. His tactic of saying "I'm here, dad!!" as I walk by is still less than ideal.

   Sometimes he hides in our hall walk-in closet. He likes it because there's a door. On this same, magical day of hide and seek, he decided to hide while I was feeding Lincoln. I realized he had been eerily quiet the whole time. I checked in on the closet, to find this:
He said "I'm feeding my animals." Yeah, Wyatt, because animals just love dry rice. Stupid.

   I wasn't really mad, I had never told him not to play with the rice. I let him keep the rice he already had, and put the bag away. When I finished, he performed the most devious act of his young life: He walked up to me with a rope. He wrapped it around my feet a couple times, then around a chair a couple of times. He said "You tied up now, dad! You can't move!!" Thinking he wasn't allowed to play with the rice, he tiptoed backwards, staring at me the whole time, towards the closet. "You can't move!!" He stepped into the closet, then poked his head out one last time. "You can't move, dad, you tied up!!"

   I don't think I've ever laughed so hard at something he's done, and I've seen him pee on his mom when he was a baby.

I let him play for a while. He eventually broke two of the glasses. Parenting is hard.

My mood: exhausted from finding the hider so often
Wyatt's mood: sad about the glasses and rice
Lincoln's mood: he was just chilling, watching Wyatt hide worse than a bike rider in traffic.
Cara's mood: needs sleep
Listening to: Blink 182

Saturday, March 21, 2015

Pretty Hungry!!

Lincoln was crying before this picture was taken, and Wy never knows what to do with that.
I knew: Stop everything, take a picture.

   There are things that people never tell you about parenting. Granted, these are precious, precious few things, because everyone and their butler has opinions to share with you. And they will share them with you, but seriously, some things you don't think about until it's too late.

   Here's a big one: Sharing your food with the children. Cara and I are horrible about this. There have been times we've taken the kids to a restaurant (still getting used to that term, "the kids." Like how my students have a tough time getting used to calling me "Overlord Gilchrist"), ordered food for just her and I, with the intention of sharing some with Wyatt. Then, seven minutes after the food has shown up, it's gone, and we realize that Wyatt hasn't even sniffed at a french fry.

   I hate sharing my food with Wyatt. I also hate making him food and not eating it myself. I loathe the idea of food existing and it not being for me. Are you eating right now?! STOP IT!! Put the food down and I will come over and eat it for you. No judgements.

   You have to understand. Growing up in the house I did, you had to eat your food fast and you had to claim it in a hurry. Not because there were a lot of kids, mind you. Not even because there wasn't enough food. It's because I wanted all of it and I would eat it all so my siblings and parents really had to get aggressive. Sometimes they'd even call me to dinner late so they could get a head start. Joke's on them, though, because whenever they did this I'd just go to the kitchen at night and eat most of the noodles dry so they wouldn't have any spaghetti the next day.

   Today, I made a meal that Wyatt and I were going to share. Screw Cara. He was outside playing with the boys, so I figured I'd eat my portion and then give him the rest. You have no idea how much self control it took for me to not eat the entire thing. Maybe you do have some idea, because you are thinking "Holy Crap, Grant, this isn't a big deal. You just don't eat some food. Stop acting like what you are talking about is important," to which I reply "Please don't say the 'crap' word around me."

You're thinking: "Awwww, that's so cute! Wyatt is giving Link a kiss!" No! He's just really hungry because there's never leftovers for him. I knew just what to do, though: Grab a snack and then take a picture. A very blurry picture.

   I saved him a Wyatt-sized portion. When he came back inside, it took some convincing, but he started to eat it. He ate freely and gladly. I started to panic. This meal was good. What if he wanted all of it?! What if Cara saw that I made some food and she wanted some?! I convinced Wyatt he'd had enough. He said "No dad, Wy still hungry!" Ugh, fine. Eat more.

   Parenting is hard.

   I only ended up with like two additional bites. Here I am, a full-grown man. A stinkin' lion, master of his pride, and I am down to counting bites and weighing portions with the little lion cubs. This is not how the jungle intends it. Or the savannah. Why on earth are lions called "the king of the jungle?!" That's clearly malaria. 

   There are other things that are hard, too. Letting your kid play your video games, which will totally ruin your stats. Watching the little brat build a Lego toy when yours would be so much cooler, or when he wants you to read him a book and all you want to do is not read him a book.

Wyatt blowing bubbles from the top of his car. Yes, I know: My pictures never match the theme of my posts. Get over it.
   See, this is the truth. Other mommy blogs out there might tell you that parenting is hard because you LOVE SO MUCH or because you are just SO EXHAUSTED FROM GIVING YOUR KID THE WHOLE WORLD but it's like "come on chill out and ease off the caps, lady." Parenting is hard because being awesome is hard, and adding a kid to that mix just makes it that much harder for me to be constantly awesome.

Wyatt's mood: skinned knees all the time
Lincoln's mood: aloof
Cara's mood: watching Hunger Games
Listening to: Third Eye Blind

Thursday, February 12, 2015

Baby Cow Mama!!

   As any good parent knows, it's helpful to get a child who is about to become an older sibling some sort of doll, so that they can show their affection towards the new baby and mimic the parents. All good parents do this.

   Cara is not a good parent. Recently, Wyatt took the initiative to adopt a baby cow, because someone who is Wyatt's mom gave him no baby human.

Blurry Baby Bump

   Wyatt is... an unorthodox parent. He loves his baby cow very much. He likes to take care of it when we are all sick, he likes to hang it upside down from the crane truck and laugh hysterically, and he likes to put it in his shirt to keep it ... warm? Safe? Or is that his womb? I don't know. He'll place it gently in a shopping cart to ride through the store, and he'll throw it across the table to get my attention.

Some of Wy's best parenting. There's a lot I could learn from this kid. Note
the koala comfortably driving. Note the still-terrifying "M-is-for-Monster."

   He wants to sing lots of baby cow songs to his baby cow. He doesn't know any baby cow songs. He'll ask me, over and over and over "Sing the baby cow mom song!!" So I'll make up a song about a baby cow mom. It goes like this "Baby cow mom, baby cow mom, this is the song of the baby cow mom," only the tune to it is way better than however you just heard it in your head.

   The problem, however, is I'm singing the wrong baby cow mom song. He gets very upset and whines at me that it's the wrong one, to sing the other one. Please remember, there is no actual baby cow mom song. Much like Atlas or Hercules or some Greek character I am not going to bother to look up, I am stuck pushing a boulder up a hill, and as soon as I am about to reach the top, the boulder starts screaming that I should push a different boulder that isn't real and sounds totally different. Xena? I am pretty sure that one is Xena.

   Wyatt likes to say that I am the baby cow's dad, he is the baby cow's mom, and the wolf is the baby cow's mom. I am terrified to ask what the wolf actually is, but otherwise I think this makes pretty good sense.

He really wanted to take some family photos, so here we go (wolf mom not pictured, because we are in a fight).

Wyatt really wanted his arm around me in this picture. And he REALLY wanted my knee to
 play a large role. He also thought Cara should be in it so she dangled some hair in the corner.

   Wyatt loves to put the baby cow between his legs, lightly shake it back and forth and say with great excitement "Baby Cow is hatching!!" You might think it's weird that he thinks a mammal is hatching, when that's only for spiders, but it makes sense. When we told Wyatt where babies come from, we made a cute little medley of the classic stories: The stork, some eggs hatching, God knitting in the mommy's belly, and any Twilight werewolf references that seemed to fit. The whole time, Wyatt was like "Why are you telling me this I never asked I'm barely three," so it worked out great.

   One day Wyatt will outgrow the baby cow. We are hoping it is tonight, because I had to steal it from him while he was sleeping to get that crane picture above, and now I have no idea where it is. But whenever that day comes, I feel like this is something we will forget all about in 10 years. That's the main reason I write this blog: To have lots of ammo to use against him when he is in his formative, highly embarrassable years.

My mood: very amused by all of this
Wyatt's mood: very paternal and maternal at the same time
Cara's mood: glad Link is sleeping better and feeding less frequently
Link's mood: starting to smile!!
Listening to: Andalucia by Pink Martini