Wednesday, December 17, 2014

Baby Lincoln Pictures!!!!



Here are more pictures than you can possible handle of Lincoln. Hope you enjoy.






 THERE ARE SEVERAL MORE AFTER THE BREAK!!

Tuesday, December 16, 2014

New Little Guy!!!!!!!!



   He's finally here!!

   You've just been waiting and waiting for a reason to get out of bed and turn on that computer, I know. (Pro tip: put the computer in your bed with you. Problem solved.) Well, little Lincoln James Gilchrist is here to occupy your ample spare time.

  Little Link was born in a hurry. I'll spare the gory details, but the nurses went from rolling their eyes at our urgent requests for a delivery to screaming "Get that doctor in here or I will have to deliver this baby right now!!" down the hall. This is not a joke. That was on Thursday, the 11th of December, 2014. He weighed 7 pounds, 5 ounces, was 18 inches long, came at 9:30 pm, and who on earth cares about all of these stats anyways?

   I want to have one blog post without the #sarcasm that you all love me for. I want to talk about how blessed I feel to have this family and how great my wife is and what a huge gift all of my family and Cara's family is, but even writing that last sentence made me feel a little bit nauseous, so that plan is out the window. Let's start a long lifetime of sibling comparisons:




   Can you tell which one is which? Well, the picture quality is incredibly low with the image on the right, suggesting that it came from a more primitive time when camera phones were less like cameras and more like the cameras that were sold for Game Boy Color back in the 90's. The one on the left is Link, who had more hair, darker skin tone and terrifyingly purple hands at birth, and the one on the right is Wyatt, who ears stick out a little further, has a smaller bridge to his nose, and has obviously been cleaned up a bit. The Wyatt picture was the background to my flip phone for almost three years, and was long my favorite picture ever, but I can't use words like "favorite" regarding one of my children anymore, unless I tack on some lame qualifier. "Favorite son to eat that cookie," or "favorite son who's here right now," or something.

   Now we can jump forward a bit and compare little Wyatt to not-quite-as-little dad.




   Huh. I am not sure what comparisons can be drawn from this. Both are blonde-but-getting-darker, both have on a country-folk shirt on. Let's keep going. Here's my dad, Wyatt and Lincoln's Grandpa:

Apart from the fact that this person seems to have grown up in The Land Before Color, this is pretty fun. Can we keep going? There have to be more comparisons for us to look at.

Oh! I know, we can see how I've changed from Wyatt's birth to Lincoln's birth. This should be fun! At this point I am just typing to try and fill the white space that is going to come from having this photo of my dad off to the side instead of in the middle. I know, it's pretty pathetic, but at the same time you are the one sitting there, reading this pathetic text. Heck, you're reading this pathetic blog. This is a sad day for you's everywhere.

If I put a line in between the space will fill faster.


Gosh this picture is long! I need to just keep on adding this thrilling and entertaining filler text!!


And now I realize I need stuff in between to break it up. Okay, here are two pictures of me from the two boys being born:





Oh gosh I'm sorry I had no idea this would be so creepy. That grin!! It's just... it's going to stay with you for a couple of days!! Again, Lincoln on the left, Wyatt on the right. The picture on the right is from September of 2011, when I learned yet again the wearing yellow really brings out the yellow in my teeth.

Okay, one last picture for us to play with and compare:


   Yao Ming makes Shaq look like a regular person, but what's craziest of all is that Christina Aguilera is actually 6 feet tall!!



   I don't really know how this happened. I started by telling you about my new son and ended up somewhere else. Entirely. I guess that little Link has to get used to this. I am a big deal and the focus of conversation and parties and blogs tends to just gravitate towards me. I just hope that Wyatt, Lincoln, my wife, (and you) understand that the only person I am ever really making fun of is myself.

My mood: proud daddy
Wyatt's mood: growing more fond of his brother
Lincoln's mood: eat and sleep and that's all.
Cara's mood: glad to not have a person inside of her.
Listening to: Zelda soundtrack

Monday, December 1, 2014

Gonna Do Some Things Differently!!


1.3 years old. February 2012. Happiest day of his life, apparently.

   Baby #2 AKA New Wyatt AKA  Bruce Wayne AKA Marcus Mariota could come at any moment. Waiting for the new guy is kind of like playing Catch Phrase, where the timer starts going faster and faster. That timer is going to buzz, and it could buzz right now, but you just know that the person on your right is going to get the word she needs and throw the thing at you just before it goes off and it's super stressful so you cheat and answer the word for the other team and then grab the thing and don't even look at the word and just pretend like the word was "tree" and say "CUTITDOWNMAKEWOOD!!" and your partners are all idiots and they say "Old Man Skinner's Barn!!" and you say "YES!!!!" and press the button and pass it so that the other team can't even see what your word was at all but then you think "Wait could I do that everytime?" and pretty soon you never read the actual word anymore but spend the whole game trying to figure out what word you should make up next time and it's almost always objects that you can see so you can be like "It's that thing over there!!" and your partner says "A fedora!" and you never lose.

   It, um, it's just like that. Point is, baby's coming. We don't have a name for the little guy, but he's coming.

Also 1.3 years old. Notice the pellet stove blazing away. RIP, stove.

   So, since I am a good parent, I have been thinking about things that I can do better with this new one. Wyatt is pretty much good and screwed up, nothing we can do about that. We always viewed him as a test kid anyways. (That's what makes him special!!) But now that we've got this thing figured out, here's what we'll change and what we'll keep the same:

Things To Change
1) Only hold Marcus on my left arm. I've been exclusively right-sided with Wyatt. He won't even try to sleep on my left shoulder anymore. As such, my right arm has gone from it's pre-Wyatt status of *ripped* to a whole new level of CUT. It is a thing of beauty. All my selfies are basically just pictures of my right arm. I even got a tattoo of my right arm on my left arm. Unfortunately, my left arm has pretty much just shriveled and died in this time frame. So this is going to be a left-hand-only gig.

   That's it. End of list.

Christmas-Eve 2012. Wyatt is like Derek Zoolander, he's not an ambi-holder.

   Come on, are you surprised? I've been writing this blog every day bi-monthly for nearly three years, so you've seen first-hand just how freaking awesome I am at this. I've never rammed Wyatt's head into anything while throwing him in the air. I've only locked him in the car once, and he was asleep the whole time so no big deal. Sure I let him play in a truck full of fertilizer for days before realizing that "fertilizer" really means "poo," but I was right in there with him!!

   What would you change?

   Oh, I see. So you think I'll be a bit calmer and more relaxed on my first day home with the baby than I was with Wyatt?! Well that's where your wrong. See, I'm pretty sure that over this long, meandering stroll to having a three-year-old, I've forgotten pretty much everything about having a newborn. What do they eat?! Vitamins?! Do I just chew up vitamins and put them in a bottle?! I haven't changed a diaper since June, so, I guess that'll have to start up again. Oh! That's one thing I'd change this time around:

Things To Change
2) Potty train the baby on like day 4.

There, that's a good thing to add to the list. Whoa, now that I think about it, there are lots of things I should change.

Things To Change
3) I love it that Wyatt can take off all his clothes now, and even put on his own shoes, so let's get Marcus Mariota to do that in a few weeks.
4) Transition from "crying" into "singing." That way whenever the baby is crying it can be to the tune of Miley's "Jolene." (Seriously, have you heard that banger? It's like daaaaaang grrrrl!)

That does it. If I can handle those four things, New Marcus will be a perfect kid, just like his brother Bruce Wyatt.

My mood: anxious and stressed
Wyatt's mood: sleepy and hungry
Cara's mood: STOPASKINGLET'SJUSTHAVETHISTHING
Listening to: Jolene

Thursday, November 27, 2014

Y'all Are Dropping The Ball!!



     With this being the time of Thanksgiving, I have a simple question to ask of those that know me: What the heck?!

     I don't know if there is any any polite or socially acceptable way to discuss this, but, how come no one has thrown me a second baby shower? I mean, that is a thing, right? Y'all gave us presents when Wyatt was coming, so, what, is this new one not good enough for you?

This is Wyatt's rendition of a Christmas Tree. You can even see it has presents at the base. It is his first true piece of art, and, sadly, is a little better than anything I have ever made. Clearly, he has a baby-shower on his mind.

     Sure, yeah, Cara had a bunch of girls throw her a shower, but she got things like gift cards and diapers and clothes for New Wyatt (still the working name of the baby). When do I get stuff? This new baby needs a dad that has Smash Bros! Do you really expect me to raise a child without the support of the community?! Or without night vision goggles?

     Now, I think I've been pretty patient up to this point, but the baby is due to come any minute now. The doctor recently described Cara as "Holy crap!" and this was at least three weeks before the due date. So when little Bruce Wayne shows up (the new working name of the baby!), I sure hope he's coming into a world where his dad has every season of Animaniacs on DVD.

Wyatt and Lil' Sebastian

     Please don't think I am trying to be selfish here, because, as always, I only want what's best for my growing family. It just seems like none of you have remembered the age old tradition of the second-baby-shower-for-dad that our culture has held dear for ages. You know, we play those classic everybody-hates-them shower games like "Who can eat the most ribs" or "Halo," tell stories about how great I am, and then open presents while the second round of food is being delivered (Please, no pizza, we aren't in college).



     I get it. You just thought that other person was going to be in charge of setting it up, haven't you. I've been there. It's like when I thought Justin Timberlake wanted my phone number so we could be friends, but then I realized he was talking to that girl directly in front of him and he didn't even know I was there. I still gave it to him. You're embarrassed because you think it's too late to throw me a party. It's not!! And it's okay if the party takes place during the baby's birth, even, because it is more important that this little guy know that his dad loves him so much he had to miss the big event to acquire some necessities like a cute little onesie for the baby or a cute little onesie for the daddy. It's worth it.

While Cara was taking this picture, I put my hands on my head.
Wyatt did the same, and I think we have a new tradition.

     So go ahead, take the initiative, throw me a party. It's not too late. Let's not make this a missed opportunity that we'll all regret but most of all you will regret.

They guy who took this picture started getting very, very uncomfortable.

It... it was me,.. I took the picture.

My mood: depressed without any new toys.
Wyatt's mood: depressed without dad having any new toys.
Cara's feeling: unable to sleep and always sore and totally uncomfortable but really excited to make me breakfast.
Listening to: "5000 Candles In The Wind (Bye Bye Lil' Sebastian)"

Tuesday, November 25, 2014

Poop It Out, Little Man!!

This little guy loves leaves but bashes bathrooms. I am a good writer.

   Guys, here's the deal: Wyatt hates pooping. It is easily his least favorite thing about being a person. He hates it so much he'll postpone it as long has he can. I've talked about this a little, but let's really delve deep into the issues here.

   One of the best things about having a little kid is how freely and often you get to talk about these sorts of things. When you are in middle school or college and want to make fart jokes, there best not be an adult or mom around. But now?! Talking about a toddler?! It's all fair game again!!

This is the face Wyatt makes when we tell him he'll be happy if he just poops.
I love that I get to write the word "poop" so much.
   When Wyatt was a little baby, he had a couple of big hard poops. I had to help them out, actually, pinching through the diaper. This taught him that pooping is scary and painful and he has avoided it as much as he can. He holds it in. His record is 13 days. I am not kidding. It made local news as "Wyatt Watch 2014" and they had one of those graphic calendars that started counting on day 9. He spends days in constant motion, even just rocking side-to-side, because he knows once he stops moving he'll be in pain and need to poop. He doesn't like to poop.

   Which is crazy, right? If I were to ask you (which I would), I'd bet you'd list pooping as one of the best parts of your day, if you really stopped to think about it. Which you now are. Thinking about it. Gross. And little boys potty-train so easy. Wyatt LOVES going #1 outside. He rightly knows that is one of the best things about being a guy. We'll be 5 feet from the bathroom, he'll have to go pee, and scream "Wy go pee!" and run outside. One time at Costco he had to go, so we just dropped his shorts by some Arborvitae bushes that were for sale and let him go. Then we bought some other ones for our fence. Pee is no problems. Poo is the problem. (My lawyers are telling me that I should put in a disclaimer: That Costco story is not true. But one day, it will be.)

   We've given him laxatives and lots of juice, we've fed him the right foods and kept him moving. Nothing. So please don't call me with your advice for how to get a kid to poop. Call Cara. She loves that stuff.

Wyatt sleeping while watching George on the Kindle. He gets to play on Dad's iPad when he ... you know ... does that thing. When he doesn't he has to play on a Kindle like a sucker.

   Well, go back to September. Wyatt got a star-balloon for his birthday. It was a balloon in the shape of a star. He loved it and slept with it and took it everywhere and wouldn't let us help him hold it on walks. One day he and I were walking and it got caught on a light-pole and pulled out of his grasp. He yelled, I lunged for it, then scaled the light pole to the top, then jumped from the top to grab it. It was just beyond my reach. I fell softly to the ground with only a bird in my hand to show for my efforts. None of this is true except that he lost his balloon to a light-pole.

   He cried for days. And weeks later, he'd ask me to go driving around, looking for his star balloon. I mean, this was his first real loss, yknow?! Well, that and he's lost every time we've ever raced. But when he'd ask for a star-balloon, he knew in the back of his mind he could get a new one if he'd just go poop in the potty. (The whole "in the potty" part is quite critical, really.)

   I'd say "Wy, do you know how you can get a new star balloon?" He'd stop crying and pause, then sigh and say "Yeah, Wy poop in potty. Wy no want star balloon." His love of the balloon was outweighed by his fear of the poop. This was in the midst of his 13-day marathon.

   When he finally went, all tired and shaking and red and crying and scared, he sat on the potty traumatized. Then he stopped, got brief glimmer of hope in his eye, and weakly said "Star balloon?!"

   We've made a lot of progress since then. Now he goes about once every three or four days, no longer holds it in to the point he gets streaks in his underwear (wish he'd teach me this trick), and doesn't fight it and cry when the dirty deed is starting. We have hope that we can get this thing nailed down before New Wyatt comes in a month. That's the baby's name, we think. New Wyatt.

Wyatt and mom, both happy to have pooped. I mean... wait, what?

Wyatt's mood: bit of an earache *sadface*
My mood: can't wait for a 4-day weekend.
Cara's mood: "I was walking today and I thought the baby was just going to fall out."
Listening to: More Than Just A Dream like a million times.

Thursday, October 23, 2014

Fun With The Sun!!

Wyatt, sleeping in his rather palatial bed. One of three, really.

   Recently, Wyatt became absolutely enthralled with the rising and setting of the sun. I mean, every day we are aware of the following three things: If the sun is up, if it's getting dark fast, or if it is dark.

   One day, late in the summer, we were at the park. All the big kids were playing, and lately Wyatt has loved making friends with the big kids at the park. (He'll walk up to some big kids that are playing. He'll stand silently, about 4 feet from them, and look at them. He'll look at me, smile, and point to the big kids. Then he'll say "These my friends!" It doesn't always progress to him making friends beyond this stage.) The big kids, all at once, left. We needed to leave too. Wyatt asked why, and I said "It's going to get dark soon!"

   He. Was. In. Awe. How did I know? I could predict the light? I said "Look over at the sun!" (Disclaimer: This is not always good advice.) He saw that it was setting, and immediately understood.

Wyatt's learned how to "cheese" for pictures, meaning his smiles are now more just like dental examinations. Also, he complained about splinters FOR DAYS.

   That night there was a fantastic sunset. I sat in a chair in the middle of my driveway and watched it all, and he ran around me, watching too. He pointed out every color, and how the colors would change every couple of minutes. SPOILER ALERT. Then it got dark.

   He. Was. So. Sad. Where'd the sun go?! And all the pretty colors!? We had to leave the park and the colors left and it got dark. His sadness was palpable. I quickly told him the sun would come up tomorrow. 

   He. Was. So. Relieved. We talked about the sun coming up tomorrow all night long. Bet your bottom dollar. 

   This cycle has been on repeat for well over a month now. Every day it's all about the sun and what it's doing. Luckily, we've had the greatest October in US history here in Eugene, and it's been warm, bright, and dry. I worry about what this kid's going to do when the sky turns grey for the coming winter, which will probably last eleven years.

   But in the meantime, he wakes up every morning happy that the sun is up. Pretty much every day since has started like this:

video

   He just wakes up extremely happy that (a) the sun is up, and (b) one of his parents is around. It's quite wonderful. Sure, he was sad that mom was going to work, but he waits for her a bit like a lovesick puppy. And he had a great time at church (I think. I just drop him off for some childcare and then go play Keno).

My mood: meh
Wy's mood: it's dark.
Cara's feeling: acid reflux
Listening to: Powerline. No, seriously.

Friday, October 17, 2014

Big House Project!!

   We lost a beloved member of our household last winter. Our 20+ year old pellet stove, that we'd been using for 20+ months finally died. Its burn pot cracked beyond repair. After much weeping and introspection, I hauled it out to the garage, and started to look for a replacement.

When you walked into our house, there was kind of this shrine to the ancient pellet stove. As it should be.

   The Wife really wanted a gas fireplace instead of another pellet stove. The Man Of The House wanted more of that hot, dry heat that the wood burning stove provided. After a long, thorough, spirited discussion, The Wife won. So not only did I have to get a new fireplace, I had a project to do.

   I've done little projects around the house. Flooring in the kitchen and bathrooms, building planter boxes in the yard, mounting a TV and hiding the cords in the wall, and helping Wyatt draw on the walls. These are all pretty simple and just require following some basic instructions. The project I had before me was a whole new beast. Luckily, it required cutting lots and lots of wood with fun saws.

He really wanted to play in the sawdust. For some reason, he really wanted his shirt off, too.

Mission Accomplished.

Now let's see how this sawdust tastes!

Ahh!!! Dad's running a saw!! I need to shut my eyes to completely keep the sound out!!

Oh good, dad's done. Dad's the best.

   The above pictures remind me of one of my favorite Wyatt moments ever. Whenever I was about to run a saw, I'd let him know and he'd try to hide from the noise. A couple times, as I was ready to turn the loud suckers on, I'd warn him and he'd run to a box of pellets and bury his head in them. He'd hide his head in the pellets until I was done cutting, then go about playing. This happened three times. I never got a picture of him ostriching, but sheesh it was cute.

   Speaking of "Sheesh that's cute," here's some videos of Wyatt helping us build, starting with his paint job:


video

   Here he does some critical measurements, and you get a good look at daddy's tramp-stamp (which - I'm pretty sure that's why you are here in the first place). Hurry! Watch it before my wife makes me take it down!

video

   Wyatt measuring things is really no surprise. This was taken back when he was just learning to walk (so, I don't know, he was maybe 9 days old?). It's from an early blog post, but I've gained like 8 new readers since then (up to 15!), so I'll share it again:

What a stud. Also, this picture was taken with what appears to be one of those cameras you make in a high school Intro To Photography class.

   And here's Wyatt working with Papa G.

video


   With all the construction and finish work done, it looks like this:

This isn't a DIY blog, so don't expect a bunch of perfect pictures of clean houses, okay. We still need to paint it, and by "we" I of course mean "not me." Painting is hard.
   If you look closely, you can see that the inner, decorative walls are falling over. We can't get them to stay up. I've tried Silly Putty and gum and even a whole roll of Scotch tape, but nothing works!! You'll notice we wasted absolutely no time cluttering that mantle shelf. And we still need to find the right picture to place in the white space above,. Probably an oil painting of me with my chin resting on my fist. That I'll paint myself. I'll be looking right at you as you come in to my house. Saying "I'm here and this is kind of creepy, so check yourself."

   I couldn't have done this project without my dad doing some last-minute electrical and wood cutting heroics, Cara's dad helping with all sorts of little things, and all the tools that both of those men have given me over the years or loaned me for this project. Thanks so much. I also couldn't have done it without Cara screaming at me "If you don't get this done I will throw all of your Nintendoses in the lake!" It was too bad that her pronunciation of "Nintendos" as "Nintendozzes" kind of ruined her moment, but she had a point. Although, in my defense, summers are for napping or playing and nothing more.

My mood: proud and relieved and also kinda gassy
Wyatt's mood: wanting me to play with him ALL THE TIME
Cara's mood: got bit by a spider, so, she's about ready to call the National Guard on our drive to the hospital.
Listening to: Sam Cooke