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.