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

Monday, February 9, 2015

Wyatt's Best Hero!!

We had our friend Betsey Jaskilka over at Framed Living take some photos of us. Here are Lincoln, Wyatt, Cara, Grant, and Grants' Chins.

   Guys, I am just in a really good place right now. It's a Tuesday night, and the kids and the wife are in Portland with Cara's family, planning a fun zoo day tomorrow. This isn't why I am in a good place, but it certainly helps. I, of course, am choosing to spend it with you, talking incessantly about myself. This is generally my move at parties, and everyone seems to love it and want to talk about nothing else, so we will just keep that trend moving forward.

   I teach math to high-school kids. This means that I can do things that they can't and it makes them think I am a genius. It helps that I teach a lot of freshmen, who know next to nothing, so whenever I factor or complete the square, their jaws drop. I get to spend most of my days telling people that I am smarter than them and that they need to listen to me, and they do!!

   I also have a three year old son who thinks I am the greatest thing to happen to humanity. I am starting to agree. One of Wyatt's most common phrases is "You my best hero, Dad!!" HIS BEST HERO, GUYS. There are other heroes out there, but I am by far the best. And if I help him beat a level of Mario - I mean, no, he's not playing Nintendo at our house, just reading and drawing and abunchofsticks in the back yard and nature and none of those electronicsohmygoshstupjudging me. Anyways, if I help him beat a level of Sticks, he is unbelievably impressed. He thinks I can fix anything, if "anything" means a light bulb and definitely not my car. (We have "Mom's car," "Dad's truck," and "Broke car.") And the other day, when I made a turn into a parking lot, he exclaimed "Nice turn, Dad!!" Seriously.

Look at these two little guys. Also, we have NO IDEA whose hands those are, and it's freaking us out. 

   So between the students that are in awe of me, my son who idolizes me, and my wife who hangs on my every word, action, and thought, I am pretty much the king of my little hill. Which is why I don't go to parties or interact with adults. For one, it breaks the illusion, and also I don't seem to get invited to parties anymore.

   I am untouchable. I coach kids in ultimate frisbee, a sport no one ever plays, so no one out there is better than me. I was once the a top-20 ranked player at Tetris on Facebook. Top 20, guys. Sure, the game had only been out for 4 hours, and within two days I wasn't in the top 10,000, but I don't think you can claim top-20 at anything, can you? I mean, I even ride my bike to work for crying out loud, so I can win any argument about global warming. But that's not why I bike to work. I bike to work because I saw my belly in the mirror one morning and thought "Oh gosh it's happening" and hopped on my bike, hoping that one ride would cancel out two whole packages of E.L.Fudge cookies that I consumed in one night. Hour. It was one hour.

   I mean, they say that fat weighs more than muscle, which is probably why I've gained a little weight in the last year or so. Also YESIKNOWFATWEIGHSLESSTHANMUSCLE why is it so important for you to always correct me on these things?

   With a free night and the world at my fingertips, a man-about-town like myself wants nothing more than to do some laundry, watch Zoolander for a record ninety-third time, write a quick note to his dozens and dozens of blog followers, and drink some tea. Well, dozen. I mean, hi mom. I'm great.

   I am not even 30, so clearly, "man in his prime" looks a lot like me.

My mood: just being honest and accurate.
Wyatt, mom, and Lincoln's moods: I have no idea but I can safely assume they are missing me terribly.
Listening to: all kinds of music with words we don't want Wyatt or mom to hear.