Best Christmas Present Ever!!

   Okay, ladies and gentlemen. I am going to clue you in on how to make the best birthday present for a baby imaginable. I mean, it's crazy good. Apparently, bettering your lives through explanations of things you should already know how to do is my thing these days. Just like before, you only need to follow the easy steps I lay out in front of you and instant status as "favorite ________" will be earned (You can fill in the blank with "uncle" or "cousin" or "stalker" or whatever).

Fair warning: If you are facebook friends with my mom, then you will have seen all this stuff like five times already. If you are not facebook friends with my mom, then you are missing out on having your grammar corrected on your status updates, and at least one message per week saying something like "You can't make fun of boys named Benedict I have a cousin in Des Moines whose son's name is Benedict and she won't like it." It's ironic because her grammar is bad in those messages, I know.

1)   Have some really nice photos taken by someone who takes really nice photos (in our case it was Kaela Mae). Like this:

I honestly just picked one at random from the CD our photographer gave us. So, yeah.

2)   Put those photos on facebook for anyone and everyone to see, copy, steal, use, and fawn over.

3)   Have an extremely artistic and clever sister in your family.

4)   Have that sister do this:

That's right, she got Wyatt a book for Christmas. A book that she made.

How To Fix Your Ripped Jeans

   You've got that pair of jeans. We both know you do. What if something happened to that pair of jeans? What would you do?! You'd have to fix them, wouldn't you. Well, something happened to my pair of jeans. Um, twice. Something happened twice. I don't know what it was and let's not just assume I tore them due to baby weight, okay!? But every self-respecting housewife needs to know how to sew and repair, and I am certainly one of those so let's get cooking. Also, I can cook good.

   I almost wore these jeans to work one day. I mean, two days. Both times I was dressed and ready to go, and both times I reached for my wallet and got a handful of underwear in the process. Now, I know what you're thinking. You're thinking either Where do you work that you can wear casual jeans?! or you're thinking How do you grab underwear when going for your wallet?? or you're thinking Wait what on earth happened to those poor things?! Great questions!!
   I'd like to make one thing very clear here: IT IS MY GOAL NOT TO USE DUCT TAPE AT ANY POINT IN THE RESTORATION PROCESS.

Belly Button!!

   Sometime's the baby is just super happy. Not when he's unable to poop, or has a new tooth coming in, or whenever mom won't let dad watch football all weekend. These are things that keep him from being super happy. In general, he's a really happy baby, but if you want to make him super happy, you show him your belly button. Or you let him find it.

   We have more videos chronicling the ecstasy he feels when he discovers a new belly button, but this one was the most SFW. We think his fascination with that odd little hole in the abdomen comes from the fact that whenever we see his, Cara and I tickle it and scream "Belly button!" and have a rip-roaring good time. But I'd like to imagine he saw this without me knowing:

   But really, that's impossible. The only way he'd know about that song is if he was around one of the dozen-or-so times I've watched it in the last week. 

   If Wyatt attempts to reach up your shirt while you are holding him - or if I do - just know that we are only looking for your belly button. It's harmless fun. We will then exclaim that we found another one, poke our fingers in there, wiggle them around and laugh hysterically, so it's nothing to be alarmed about. Perfectly common and healthy behavior.

My mood: stomach hurts from laughing

Wy's mood: stomach hurts from that old milk I gave him

Listening to: Barbara Manatee

Christmas #2!!

   Oh gosh is there anything cuter than a matching dad and baby?! I wish we had a tie for the little guy, but I feel like that's probably illegal or dangerous or something. Know that we were both wearing cords and brown shoes, so we were the definition of "precious."
   Also, know that Cara looked pretty too but wasn't really matching the rest of us boys, and know that my nose looks very pointy and my arms very pale.

   Christmas!! The boy is still a bit too young to really know that Christmas means presents, despite getting lots of them this year, but we did take the time to tell him the story of Jesus today. Cara did the talking:
   Jesus was born in a manger and there were sheep and poop everywhere, and then he was left at the temple but that was okay and then he got some disciples and made some bread.
   Way to go, mom!!

   We went to church on Christmas Eve, and Cara and I helped watch all the toddlers and babies. Don't get the impression that we are wonderful people, please, because we just wanted to get out of sitting through the service in "big church." I learned something shocking while in the nursery:

   Wyatt's a bully.

   It's true!! He walks up to kids and takes their toys, he demands to be held by Cara or I when we are holding or playing with anyone else, and I think I saw him take protection money from Autumn as well. How did this happen!! It's society's fault. It must be, because Cara and I and mostly me are doing everything we can to raise a good kid! It's all those bad tv shows and music that he's exposed to. We need to take it all down!! It's the only solution!! Stop exposing my kid to these things that I have no control over!!

   But on Christmas morning, while opening presents, Wyatt had a lot of fun with his brand new baby Ipad!!:

   That positive reinforcement we've been trying has really paid off. He expects applause whenever he does the littlest thing!! This can only be a good thing as he gets older, I'm sure.

   How do I know that Wyatt is a super advance baby!? Because all of the presents he got were for kids 3+ (or older)!! Look at this!

LEGOs ages 5 - 27 12

LEGOs ages 4+ (it feels like I am yelling LEGOS!!! at everyone, which is weird, but that's how it's spelled!)

Pokemon Cards ages 8+

   plus a MagnaDoodle and some other LEGOs and a knife from his creepy uncle. Now, I know what you're thinking "Come on Grant, obviously all of those presents were for you and not the baby..." No! You're wrong! Leave me alone!!

   Merry Christmas everyone!!

   My mood: festive and jolly
   Wyatt's mood:  center of attention forever!!!
   Listening to: Wyatt's Grandpa's Christmas music

Turning A Parental Corner

In case you weren't sure, this is how you look good.

   Somewhere along the line it happened. I don't know when or why, but people stopped giving me baby advice.
   No more do I hear about how best to get a baby to sleep, or what foods give what poops, or how to lose the baby weight. People no longer regale me with their stories of how little Andrew would roll around in his crib, or baby Jason once did the funniest thing and you just have to hear it!
   All this advice never really bothered me, unless it had a typically condescending tone. I know it's a good feeling to impart some wisdom and experience, and to feel like you are helping someone else. But, the fact that I don't receive advice anymore means that I am either a) an obviously wonderful parent who doesn't need any help, or b) a lost cause.

   However, I told myself early on that I would never do the same to other new parents. It's not like my 24 months of baby experience (Wyatt's 15 months yesterday, mommy was pregnant two years ago) are really that much better than anyone else's.

We we're watching Caillou and he fell asleep. Only after whining a ton. Because
Caillou is boring and he whines a lot. Is this making sense to anyone but me?

   So imagine my shock when I did just that. A few weeks ago I found myself telling story after story of sleeping habits, neediness, feeding cycles and diaper densities to a poor new mom. She was very patient and kind, just like I once was before the world turned me in to this jaded creature before you. "HE'LL NEVER SLEEP THROUGH THE NIGHT!!" I yelled at the poor girl, waking up her daughter. IT NEVER HAPPENS!! Teething, hunger, diaper changes, upset stomachs, bad cases of the cuddles; all these things wake baby up and of course wake daddy up.

   Do I have wisdom to share?! Sure I do. Lots and lots. But if it's not asked for, it's not given. That's my new policy. I will follow this policy unless you are obviously ruining your child and someone needs to step in. That someone might as well be me.

My mood: a proud and accomplished father.
Wyatt's mood: he's just a little boy he wants all the toys he and I hate the show Caillou.
Listening to: Nothing.

Winter Break Maybe!!

   So, it's been a dreadful long time since I've updated MKIS. You don't need to tell me how long it's been, or how lonely you've been, or how your life is a little bit more empty without seeing pictures of Wyatt smiling with his asymmetric-toothed grin. I know all of this.
   But!! With school out on winter break and me having TONS of things to share with the world THAT THE WORLD NEEDS TO KNOW, you can expect to have a more fulfilling holiday season, with a multitude of blog posts coming your way!! I will probably update the blog at least three times!!

   Lots to catch up on, we'll take it one piece at a time. I mentioned a while back that my life is significantly more hectic now than it was before. I'm teaching full time, teaching part time, in school to get a master's in math, married to a woman who works nearly full time, and have a baby who isn't pooping. That's a lot of stuff, except for the poop, which isn't a lot. It's pretty much none. (I won't talk about poo the whole time, so hang on).

   Things get lost in the shuffle of being so busy. I don't just mean time to blog. I mean like we've lost an iPod and some of the baby's medicine in the shuffle of being so busy. So, when I found this laying around on our table, I wasn't surprised:

   Well look at that. The wife has been plotting!! New floor in kitchen, new counter tops, shred paper. A whole bunch of little, hour-or-two projects there, right? Wrong. Putting in a new kitchen floor will take at least five months, especially if Cara's dad gets involved. There's stuff she wants me to do, but like a selfish spouse she never once considered things that I want and need to do. So I fixed it.

/fixed

   See, Cara!! You have stuff you want to get done and I have stuff I want to get done. Who's to say whose stuff is more important? That's right, I am. I am to say whose stuff is more important because I am man. It's like that show "Who's the Boss," because it also has the word "who's" in it and I am getting pretty confused on when I should say "who's" and when I should say "whose." Let's look closer.

   Okay fine so it's a little blurry. I know you're thinking "Grant you're never going to get rich off this blog if you keep posting bad, blurry photos. And if you only update once a month. And if you keep recycling old blog posts." Yeah, I know all of this. I was voted "top 10 blogger" by my math classes because I gave them extra credit, so I clearly know what's going on. Let's just move on and compare lists.

Round 1
Wife: New Floor in Kitchen (I'd like to point out that she only wants this so she can avoid cleaning the current floor in kitchen).
Husband: fix flat tire
Winner: Husband. Fixing a flat tire is an easier, more practical and more important project. That is why I will do it before my winter break is over. Don't worry, the Manlyvan is still driving like a champ, the flat was on my 1995 Buick Grandma that I am still driving for some unknown reason.

He's A Climber, People!!

   Cara and I have different parenting techniques. By which I mean that I actually have parenting techniques. One of the main differences is things we'll leave on the floor. She comes home and sets everything on the floor, which doesn't bother me - until Baby Wallet gets into her wallet. I guess I don't want a baby handling cash or losing our credit cards. Me? I put everything on the table, up high where he can't get it.

   Well, that's not going to work anymore.

   This started about a week ago. I've seen him climb on these chairs before, but never when it was isolated from other objects. It always involved using another chair or a toy or something else for help. This is a new world. It's like every third week is a new world, really.

   This is also new:

   Do you see where this is going!? I used to be that I could just shut a computer and that was the end of it. Now he can open them!? When they are on top of the table!? This is a problem.

   So of course, all it took was about three days and he's here:

New Giggle!!

   People ask me all the time "How do you do it, Grant?!" They are usually referring to the pterodactyl sound I can make that sounds just like the real thing, but in some cases they want to know how I come up with such downright fascinating material. How can I consistently turn out quality blog posts on an at least bi-monthly basis, without any help from anyone else and especially not from my wife?!
   Well, it's easy when you've got stuff like this to work with:

   Now, I know his tongue kind of steals the show (how can a tongue be so cute?!), but did you hear that cackle he makes? The one right at the beginning? Go watch it again. We aren't sure where it comes from, but somewhere in the last three months he must have seen a woody woodpecker clip or something. Holy poo it's fun. Cara and I can't get enough of it, and try to get him to make the sound whenever we can.

   But here's the thing: I can't even tell if he's actually laughing half the time. I think it's just the sound he makes whenever he's thinking about, well, anything. Still, I'll take it whenever I can get it.

   Also, on a related note, Wyatt had like his six cutest minutes ever last night. If you know me, you know that I don't like using the word "ever" unless it's followed by the words "ending pasta bowl." Oh, and also if it all started with an n. But seriously, this is going to be tough for the little charmer to top:
   Cara and Wyatt and I were laying in his bed. Cara or I would take turns making the "mmmmmm" sound with our lips, and then Wyatt would lean in to kiss us on the mouth. We'd kiss and say "mwa!" like all people do when they kiss, at all times, and Wyatt would do his proud triumphant laugh. That went on for like 3 minutes. But then, instead of us making the "mmmmm" sound, Wyatt would make the "mmmmm" sound and one of us would kiss him. Then he'd do the "mwa!" and do his proud laugh. Ohmygoodness I could have died. In fact I almost did, but there was a marble involved and it's pretty unrelated so just focus on how stinkin' adorable that all must have been.
   After we'd had a good make-out session, I went to grab the camera, and of course he stopped doing it. Maybe I can get it on camera later. But at this point, it's probably better in your imagination anyways.
   YOU'RE WELCOME.

My mood: loved!
Wyatt's mood: loved!
Listening to: All I Want For Christmas Is You by Mariah Carey (now with more jingle!!)

What's Down There?

   I don't know why my precious little angel does this, but when I am holding him he loves to reach up my sleeves or down my collar. It's pretty odd and pretty cute.

   Almost every time I hold him, something like this happens. I wonder at what age we have to tell him to not reach down people's shirts?! I think I'll wait to kill the habit until he's like 17. He'll thank me.

My mood: exposed
Wyatt's mood: bored with the same old house.
Listening to: Train

Name Recognition

   This is a long post. I think it's worth reading. It is much more me-centric then most of my already-me-centric posts are, so if you are just here for cute baby stuff you should skip all the annoying words and look at the pictures of Wyatt I've posted. Otherwise, thanks for listening as I get some heavy things off my chest.

This picture, like all  others in this post, really has nothing to do with
what I am actually talking about, except that it involves me.

   My dad's not great with names, although he's actually better with names now than he was when I was real young. This is important because he is a pastor and lots and lots of people know him from seeing him yell at them every Sunday. He's one of those yelling types of pastors. I distinctly remember one trip to Target he and I took when I was in middle school. There were three different occasions on this trip where a couple would walk up, say hi, and start chatting. I could tell immediately that dad didn't know their names. (I won't tell you how I knew, because then you'll know if he ever does it to you. He won't do it to you though, because you're one of his favorites. He told me that.) So, I pulled a trick I had learned recently to help him out, a trick no one taught me: I'd introduce myself to them and ask them their names, assuming we hadn't met. They'd be impressed/apologetic and say "Well hello Grant, I am [insert name] ..." and fall for my trap. Dad would then dive back in to conversation and I'd leave to look at video games or something. After that third couple walked off and we were heading to the car, he even said "Grant you are saving me tonight." He didn't buy me anything, of course.

MORE PICTURES!!

Wyatt: Tamer of Animals

Nope, no animals here. Or anywhere in this post, practically.

   Oh man I blew it, everyone. This blog post, as fantastic as it will undoubtedly be, could have been like 30 times better.

   I am about to tell you how much Wyatt enjoys chasing animals. I will give cute anecdotes about all the millions dozens maybe nine cats in our cul-de-sac that he likes to approach, stare at, and then try to grab. He'll even walk deep into neighbors' yards in pursuit. I'll post a video of him herding geese. There will be a squirrel mention (we call the squirrel Peter Rabbit because he kind of looks like this guy named Jeff my wife once knew).
   But all of that pales in comparison to Saturday, November 10th, when Wyatt and I were going for a walk and saw a rabbit in someone's yard. A cute, 5th-grade-class-pet sort of bunny. It was happily nibbling on leaves in someone's front yard. I set Wyatt down, and he chased the rabbit in the world's most adorable little circles around the bushes. They must have done three precious laps. I, of course, did not have my camera on me. I, of course, am too cheap to spring for a smartphone and data plan. I, of course, blew it.

   We've gone back to that neighborhood 4 times in the past week. One time, we saw the bunny outside again, but it was on the other side of a fence, in someone's side yard. I was short on time, actually, otherwise I would have risked some mild trespassing for the video of a lifetime. I haven't seen the bunny since, and yesterday there was a big riding lawnmower where Dave the Rabbit used to be, so we fear the worst.

   So, yay. What fun we are having here. Look at this stupid video of geese or whatever, but know that this could have been a top ten blog post, right up there with discipline, the birthday video and this funny video. Instead we are left with more middling drivel:

   It's too bad that his triumphant primal screams at the end are so worthless due to the lack of adorable bunny action. I've really failed everyone, and I apologize. Let's just move on before we realize that I have lots of good pictures of Wyatt with his auntie's dog Scout, and call it quits. We'll try again soon.

   If you'd like to make a donation to the Get Grant A Smartphone So His Blog Won't Be A Pile Of Crap Fund, let me know.

My mood: extremely positive
Wyatt's mood: another painful tooth coming in! Oh no!
Listening to: Viva La Vida by Coldplay.

Mama's Birthday!!

Typical. I hold an entertain Wyatt while Cara has TWO computers (and that TV you can see in the reflection) to entertain her.

   As all of you who are facebook friends with her know, it was my wife's birthday last Thursday or Friday or something. You might be curious as to what I did for her special day, as I've shown my willingness to really go for it on holidays. Well, let's start with the present.
   I got Cara exactly what she got me for my birthday: an idea.
   Flash back to September 14, 2012. Yours truly just had a horribly depressing birthday. Why?! Because no one at his job cared at all, and because everyone celebrated it by doing things for his wife. But when I came home, Cara said "I thought about getting you a smartphone for your birthday, but I didn't." If you are one of my regular readers (hi Candace!), you might remember that she pulled this exact same stunt on father's day, thinking that "thinking about getting me a smartphone" counted as a present. (Really, though, she got me twice as much for my birthday compared to father's day, because she also thought about getting me a video game for my birthday. Maybe for Christmas I can get three or four ideas!)
   So yeah, Cara, I thought about getting you a tennis bracelet, whatever the heck that is, but that's as far as it got.

   So, get this! We were at Cara's grandparents house today having an early Thanksgiving, and Cara's mom - who only said hi just two seconds ago - says "did you get Cara anything for her birthday!?" No, Connie! No I didn't!! I don't care if you give me that disapproving sigh again, and I don't care that - as a birthday present - Travis once paid for one of her college visits to California back when they were dating in high school. I don't care about these things because you and she are stuck with me because we have a kid so get over it. Did you ever ask her if she got me anything for my birthday?! No, you didn't, because you are against me. I don't know why.
 
   Oh, okay, now you are sitting there judging me too. I can just hear it now. "Grant how could you?! She carried your child, then nutured it as a newborn, cares for it today and works and cooks and cleans. Is it really too much to ask you to spend some time thinking about she might like?!"
   Ha! I set you up for that one. I know what she likes. She likes take-out thai food and watching superhero movies from Redbox. No! No, really, she does!! She really wanted to eat Pad See Ew and watch the new Spider-man movie again. I know this is true because when I came home with these things after work she said "I just ate like an hour ago, your sister took me out, so I'm not really hungry." Fine, more for me. Then she said "Didn't we watch this last week?!" So, yeah.

My mood: aggressive
Wyatt's mood: still teething
Listening to: Just Another Manic Monday by whoever the heck that lady is she sure is annoying. I wish it was Sunday because that's my fun day. 

It Is A Treat Being Married To Me!!!!

   I know I know I know. You sit there and you think "how did she get so lucky?" How did she land a guy that takes such good care of her AND the baby? Well, we're not sure. We talk about it all the time. What?! You don't know what I am talking about!? Let me show you:  

   If you didn't catch what was going on up there, Wyatt has become a little bit shy when he's doing his dirty work. Lately I'll find him in a corner, behind a chair or something, crouching, staring and occasionally grunting. It's pretty adorable, really. So, I encourage him to walk up next to his mom, brace himself on her, and get to work. She wants that kind of bonding time with her son, and I allow it to happen frequently.
   (Also, that was a monster poop. Like, he almost pooped out a monster. I'm sure when you woke up this morning you thought "I'd like to read a thrown-together blog post centering around poop.")

   Here's what happened next:

   We've already talked about how Wyatt knows some of his boundaries and tries to push them. He's not allowed to touch the computer, so he'll drop things on it, "accidentally" fall on it, walk into it, or poke it with a stick or something. Clever boy. And don't worry, Cara loves it when I let him be free, it doesn't annoy her when she's watching something.

   So, as you can see, while Cara is watching some show on her computer, she lets her poopie son run all around causing destruction. I'm a cool customer, though, so I don't freak out. I just remind her of her motherly duty to change all diapers, clean the house, make some food and entertain the baby. I would try to help but I am busy documenting our lives.

   What do I mean by "documenting our lives," exactly? Well, I want proof that we are great parents who only want the best for our son while maintaining a safe and healthy home. Like this:

   Before you go nuts and call social services, know that the house has only been like this for like two weeks, and I'll get it all cleaned up today or tomorrow or whenever I finish Battlestar Gallactica. Today, while Cara is at work and I have a precious day off school, I plan to play with my son, blog a little, pinterest a lot, and maybe take a shower. There's definitely no time to clean anything.
   (Also, when I say "he got in the shredder," it's not like the shredder was plugged in or anything. And, even if it was, it's not like he knows how to operate it anyways. So, that's no big deal either. Also, "the shredder" is a pretty cool name that I should incorporate into my persona.)
   How did she get so lucky?!

My mood: proud to be so good at being a husband
Cara's mood: frustrated because can't finish her show.
Wyatt's mood: wants his diaper changed.
Listening to: that blow my whistle baby song. 

Coming Clean

   Okay, everyone. I'll fess up. I've been deceiving you for a while. When I started this blog, it was really as a joke. I wanted to mock my plight at the time of suddenly being a stay-at-home dad. My pharmacist wife went back to work, I was on winter break from school for a month, and I was home. It was weird.
    For the following nine months, I worked part time at the community college, usually working two days a week. The other five I was home with the baby. And I plotted and I planned and I blogged. I realized that blogging was a great way to keep a record of the little boy's young life. And it was fun!! I would spend all day thinking of funny things and ways to make my wife mad.
    Well, I got a full time teaching job that started in September. And I am still teaching at Lane. And, um, I've started working on getting a master's degree in mathematics online. So, pretty much overnight, I got busy. Like, really busy. I'm no longer a desperate housedad like I used to be, and I wanted to keep that from you. Lock me up.
   What does this mean for you!? Wow, what a selfish question for you to ask. It really means that, for a while at least, My Kid Is Special is going to be much less satire and much more actual, honest-to-goodness  mommy bloggy. I know I know, I don't like it either. What, now you're mad!? Goodness, here I thought we were friends.
   SO!! I'll make it up to you. We had some pictures taken a couple of weeks ago. Here's some goodies. I'll even throw in some potentially-funny captions or something!!

Gosh he's just the cutest. Good thing my hideous face is well hidden.

What a perfect family we must be. I mean, look at this picture! His hand on her thigh really sells it.

The ball is a metaphor for trust. Or, wait, was it friendship? I forget. I just know that we are blurry in the background to symbolize parenting in 21st century America.

Oh, um, I didn't mean for two of these to make it into this album. But notice how well combed his hair looks.

And then compare to his halo of light in this picture.

Outfit change!!! What a happy baby.

There's something over there!!

Just in case you weren't sure what his back looks like.

My mood: ashamed

Wy's mood: cutey cute!

Listening to: Clair De Lune

Mandatory Halloween Post!!

Wyatt's first Halloween, 2011. Sheesh, I think we've all forgotten how cute that baby was.

   We really blew it last year, and we know it. It's like, next thing we knew it was halloween and we didn't have a costume ready for Wyatt at all. We had thought about turning the baby into an adorable little crayon, but we dropped the ball. It was embarrassing and Cara was appropriately ashamed. I scrambled and we had that photo you see above, trying to be all artsy-fartsy and clever, but we weren't fooling anyone.
   Not this year. This year we came prepared. After having all the fun and set-up of Wyatt's Zelda themed-birthday party, just getting a bit of a costume to parade about town was as easy as a college girl dressed as a "bunny."

   In sticking with our general Wyatt looks like any blond character philosophy, we decided to dress him up as Calvin. We tracked down an appropriate enough hobbes, a red wagon, and pulled our transmogrifier out of the attic (cause we hadn't used it in years). I think it was a success!

   So what'd we do next!? Go visit people and show them how clever we were!!

   We saw grandpa:

   Grandma came out and played too. We went for a walk down to Joel and Nikki's house to meet their new baby girl, (who is doomed to have a crush on Wyatt forever), saw auntie Ashley and a few other friends too! Wyatt loved playing in his wagon and squeezing his tiger, and people could not stop commenting on how good I looked in my costume. ("what, this old thing?!" was my well rehearsed reply whenever someone said "you look like a movie star" or something similar).

   How can we top these wonderful birthday parties and costumes!? I really don't think we can. I think we've peaked. It's a shame, but it's good to know when to walk away. So next year, we'll dress wyatt up as a "cowboy" by purchasing a stupid, cheap costume at Toys R Us, and that'll be that. 

My mood: tired

Wyatt's mood: tire

Listening to: Everybody Talks by the Neon Trees

Positive Reinforcement

   I want to keep this forever so that we can always have proof for Wyatt that he was happy and we were good parents.

   Here's another probably-way-too-long video, but I post the whole thing because I know that my aunts read this. Also, holy crap is it cute and fun:

   If you'd like to nominate us for parents of the year, I don't know how to do that or if it's a thing. So, that's on you.

My mood: exhausted

Wyatt's mood: proud

Listening to: Brothers On A Hotel Bed (over and over) by Death Cab for Cutie

Running In Circles

   Here's a video that I totally didn't film while in my underwear. Things like this are getting more and more common in our household (Things in the movie, I mean. Not me filming in my underwear which I wasn't doing. Focus!):

   The kid will run in circles for minutes at a time. Literally just over and over and over. Sometimes the circles are big, sometimes he's basically spinning in place. We don't know why. He'll giggle the whole time, babble to himself, and often crack himself up. All it really takes is putting something on the floor for him to run around. Sheesh it's fun.

   Except for that it's sad. Is he trying to communicate with me?! Is he running in circles because he knows that I have been running in circles too, metaphorically!? My life is kind of stagnant right now. Every day it's the same thing: take care of the baby, think about things to blog about, check to see how many page hits I've gotten in the last four minutes, and read about college football. Yeah, there's some teaching and some picture taking in there, but it's all the same routine.

   Running in circles. How come I haven't become famous from this blog yet!? Is it my fault!? I feel like all it takes to be rich is to be on a reality or daytime talk show, and all of those people just get those jobs from having super interesting lives. I think I have proven that I have a super interesting life, based on the fact that my mom shares almost every single blog update on facebook. It must be worth reading!

   Running in circles. How does he know?! Are Cara and I running in circles? We are. I mean, literally, we chase each other and Wyatt around the house like all day long. Sometimes on all fours while we play "lions" (Which is such a stupid name. No one is roaring. No one is pouncing anywhere. We should call it "four-legged-mammals"). But also, not just literally. Non-literally. Sometimes it seems like all she does is work and never really cares that I walked Wyatt around the neighborhood four different times in one afternoon. 

   You're not here for text. Sorry. I got carried away there. Here's some random video I haven't even watched at all, so I don't know what's on it and can't be held responsible for its content.

My mood: obviously super happy!

Wyatt's mood: dizzy and silly!! What fun!

Listening to: KT Tunstall

Growing Older And Less Cuter

Have I used this picture already?! I don't know. But I do know this: overalls >  everything.

   We've had an especially cute couple of weeks here at My Kid Is Special. I mean, I've been my usual trend-setting self (just yesterday I was told I look "comfortable"!!) and Wyatt has been happy and playful and dressed to impress, but even Cara has done something with her hair or something!! We'll have to take family pictures soon.

   But, sadly, I've noticed that being adorable isn't an option for Wyatt forever. Let me show you what I mean.

   Here's what he's wearing these days:

So... pay no attention to my sock at the bottom there. I am a great photographer.

   Now, it's not super tiny and all "oh-look-he-thinks-he's-a-person" cute, which we've been known to pull off on occasion, but at least it's still small and sweet. But what the heck is this?!:

   It's gigantic!! It's over two feet long!? Are you able to get a feel for its size from the picture? Let me try another one:

I can't even hold it far enough from my body to get the whole thing in the camera.  Hopefully Wyatt gives some perspective as to how enormous this sleeper is.

 
   Gah!! Nothing cute about that! Is he going to be that big? I mean, I guess that's the goal, but, I just feel like having him run around in those clothes is going to be creepy. The tag said it was for 16 - 17.5 months, which I thought was a bit too specific, but who knows. Ugh.
   Still, I need to be ready with the camera for these few remaining months where he is pinchably cute. Like here, with his new tiger:

   Or here, with his favorite toilet in the background, playing in... my... hair.

Admit it. There was a moment there - just a split second - where you thought that dark stuff might be poo. Ew!! I would never post any of my pictures of him playing in poo, of which I have many.

   Yeah, okay that one's a bit creepy. I was cutting my hair (I cut my own hair, get over it) and he really wanted to put some on. He even tried to eat it, but aborted that idea pretty quick. We let him learn through doing.

It's tough being so happy all the time!!

   At least he'll grow up to be a looker like his dad. Maybe the awkward, not-cute-anymore-yet-not-handsome-yet phase will only last for 10 or 12 years for him. For me, I just got through that phase like four months ago.

My mood: proud of my genes and my jeans

Wyatt's mood: so excited!! We don't even know what for!

Listening to: Daft Punk

My Baby Can Double Fist, What Can Yours Do?!

   It's called My Kid Is Special, because I knew early on just how smart, talented, coordinated and perfect little Wyatt would be. I am basically writing these blog posts just so I can prove to the world how much better my kid is than yours, and how much better of a dad I am than all of you, um, mostly women who read this. (hi Joe!!)

   So, let's just put it this way. 12 months old, can your kid do this!?

   Of course your baby can't, that's just crazy! Did you see the part where he picked up his stuffed dog, Tyler, and then tried to play with all three?! Of course you did, because it was near the end and that video was frick'n gripping. That's determination on his part, trying to overcome his physical AND spatial limitations. We still aren't even sure if he's right or left handed, because he's so dang talented with both.

   And to answer your question: yes I do think I'm a wonderful dad for letting him have three wonderful push-roll soundmakers. It's probably why my kid is so special. 

   I also think this is evidence of his, um, specialness:

My mood: so proud!

Wy's mood: what more can I do?!

Listening to: Norah Jones

The Little Sinner!!

I've quickly learned that vests and overalls are just killer cute on babies.

   Oh man, guys. This stuff's getting real right about now. Wyatt clearly understands the words "no" and "no touch," and he is definitely aware that there are things he's not supposed to touch (like outlets and, ahem, candles, and me when I'm facebooking). But what's been pretty entertaining is watching him not touch those things.

   I'd like to start with a story, before I dive into this story. When I was in high school I volunteered at my church's 3rd and 4th grade Sunday School room. I did this because I am a truly wonderful person, inside and out, but that's not the point.

 There were these math toys to play with. I played with them every week, making designs like the following:

Important copyright information: My brother made this design a couple days ago, put it on facebook, and then I stole it. There, you can leave me alone now, Garrett.

     The designs are lots of fun to make, and also very easy to make. Unlike the shoddy work shown above, my designs were sure to have rotational symmetry and reflectional symmetry, so, yeah. You might not think of those shapes as a math toy, but they are because all toys are really math toys, so get over it.

   When I was volunteering at Sunday School, hogging these toys from the other kids, I would say very clearly and sternly: DO NOT TOUCH MY DESIGN. Again, they were about eight years old or so. What I found extremely interesting, and really it's always stuck with me, is that those kids would lay their heads down on the floor, stare at the shapes, and put their fingers as close to it as possible without touching it. They'd look at me, gauge my reaction, and move their fingers closer. As soon as they touched even a corner of a piece I would reprimand them, they'd back of, and then usually leave it alone. In fact, they often left at that point and played with some other volunteer who was actually fun.
   Those encounters happened several times. It's like two dynamics were at work: 1) They wanted to get as close to doing the bad thing as they possibly could without actually doing the bad thing, and 2) They wanted to test their limits. I knew if I let them touch the pieces ever so slightly, that'd turn into touching more pieces and then moving pieces and then probably doing drugs, so I had to draw the line.

   Story over. Now back to my story.
 

Oh Gosh Our Lives Just Got So Much Better!!

You can tell he's holding the bottle because I'm clearly holding the camera. Also, he wears that Kermit shirt a lot, we should talk to him about that,

   I've tried to be very consistent with how I portray myself, my son and my lazy wife. I like video games, he likes to hear himself make sounds, she wishes she'd married somebody else. We get it. But, one thing has to change, and this is a very good thing:

   Wyatt can hold his bottle.

   He could always hold his bottle, really, now he just chooses to. Like a big boy. But before we get to that, a little history:

   I've tried lots of things to get him to feed himself. We've used sippy cups, I've taped his hands to the bottle, I've refused to feed him while he cries, I bought a little cage feeder for a gerbil - none of these things worked. It all became exceedingly frustrating when I was playing nintendo discussing politics with a friend over the internet, and he had to be fed. As you know, you can't do the aforementioned activity without both of your hands, so we had to stop our informative dialog and shut down the skype session.

   I go to my parents house. The same tired old act plays out. Just watch:

   Have you ever seen anything more ridiculous!? No! You haven't!! Not unless you've seen this, of course. (Yeah, fine, you caught me. I googled "most ridiculous thing ever" and that was like the 5th option. Way to go, Columbo). Well, we kept on trying. Just a few moments after that video ends, I put him in my lap, opened up his hands, placed them on his bottle, and held them there for about 15 seconds. I was helping him hold his bottle. Then, as I slowly removed my hands from his, well...

   Ohmgosh. Not only did he hold his bottle, he drank from it, he moved his hands, he re-gripped it a couple of times. He'd open his hands and squeeze on it. He once dropped it and then picked it up again!! A whole new world has been opened up in terms of my free time!! The other day I was hanging up a new shelf in his nursery he never sleeps in, and he was super fussy. What'd I do!? I yelled at Cara!! She didn't do anything though, saying she was too busy "holding up that shelf I can't get level," so I ran to the kitchen, grabbed his bottle and some milk, ran back, put it in his hands and watched him go to town. He was feeding himself, I was working, Cara was just relaxing, leaning against a shelf. Typical. But wonderful. 

   It used to be I could only do one thing while Wyatt was hungry: feed him. Now, who knows what I can do!? Blog? Clean? Nap? Workout!? That's probably been the main reason I haven't been able to work out for the last few years, actually: Wyatt no holding his bottle.

My mood: so proud

Wyatt's mood: also pretty proud

Listening to: Neon Trees

Favorite Toy!!

   Oh man. You've heard about the big party. What you didn't know was, before the party, we simultaneously made Wyatt very very happy and very very sad. I'll show you what I mean.

   We headed to Fletcher's to buy a baby shower present for a friend (Fletcher's is the local baby store in town). While there, Wyatt was fairly interested in all the toys and clothes and everything, but when he got his hands on this thing, there was no turning back:

   In fact, when we tried to turn back, this happened:

   It's only like a three second video, but it happened over and over and over. He cried on our way out of the store. He cried the whole drive home. He cried at home, then found his fire truck and tried to make due:

   Sure, it looks like it could work, but we ended up wit this, just a few moments later.

   We weren't sure what to do. It was obvious he really enjoyed the wooden lawnmower thing, and wanted more time with it. We weren't sure if we should get it for him, as it wasn't cheap and we don't really want to spoil the kid after all. The last thing you want is a kid who gets whatever he wants when he cries. That's why sometimes I don't even feed him or change his diapers. STOP CRYING FIRST!!
 
   As you saw from the party, though, he got lots of presents. Two of those presents were just like his lawnmower!! In fact, one of them was a lawnmower!!

   Okay, no more videos. Thanks for putting up with all that. If you look in the background, you can also see a walking popper as well. The lawnmower was from Cara's grandma (Wy's Great-grandmother), and the popcorn popper was from my mom and dad (Wy's grandma and grandpa). Wy loves them both dearly and plays with them all the time. It's fun for me to mow the lawn while he's on the deck mowing the lawn. Thanks everyone!!

   Sometimes people think that having toys that make a lot of noise are going to be really annoying. I'm sure at some point they will be, but right now, I would much rather have a happy baby playing with a toy that clicks a lot, than have a baby who is fussy and wants my attention. Leave me alone! Also, it's great being able to hear where he is in the house, so that I can feel like I am watching him while I am watching 30 Rock reruns.

My mood: Go ducks!

Wyatt's mood: new toys!!

Listening to: Neon Trees

So Stinkin' Perfect!!

Someone said something offensive, and Wyatt fainted like a housewife from the 20's

   The best part about this picture? Cara was asleep on the couch, Wyatt crawled up on top of her, and fell asleep in that position. Everything about this picture sums up my wonderful, beautiful family.

My mood: the only awake one
Wyatt's mood: faint, obviously
Cara's mood: nappy
Listening to: nothing

I KNOW I KNOW I'M SORRY!!

   Over a week!? What was I thinking!? Well, you can stop your angry emails and glares when I see you at the store. I usually write a few blog posts on the weekend, and whenever else I can find time, but last weekend I was hunting with other manly men who don't drive minivans (yes, I drove the only manlyvan I saw all weekend). And no, I am not going to post pictures of the trip here, because it really isn't all that cute and adorable, that's what you're here for. Your here for stuff like this:

I'll always think that horse has a creepy face

   Why do I mostly write blog posts on weekends? Because the rest of the week is me time. Well, more specifically, it's me-and-Mario time. But I think we're all missing the big picture here. Sure, you can be frustrated with me, but what is my wife doing all this time!? Why am I the one who's solely responsible to provide the world with the blessing of Wyatt?! Is it really so important for her to "meal plan" (whatever that is, I don't even think it's real.)? Or to make and freeze a few dinners? Or even to make a delicious homemade pasta sauce from our garden tomatoes?! Sure, those are all great things. But, can we really claim that they are more important than this blog?! I don't think we can.

   Anyways, here's a fun video of Cara and Wyatt spinning on a chair to placate you.

   What fun!! I love spinning in chairs. I used to take my chair from my room into the back yard and spin it for minutes. I love being dizzy. It's important we bring the conversation back to me whenever possible.

My mood: "busy"
Wy's mood: dizzy
Listening to: Carole King