First Step!!

Well, I've stepped on my first baby.

(Don't worry, it wasn't one of mine)

Here's Wyatt, pining for some of his mom's attention. She's just happy to have some cuddles. Also, that couch is beautiful.

   Don't act so shocked, nor surprised. I know that all of you faithful readers really look up to me, thinking of me as the greatest father and person of the day. I am, probably, but the CDC estimates that 73% of people will step on at least one baby in their lifetime. The fact that it took me so long is a testament to my grace and concentration.

   So we're at Cara's parents house for Thanksgiving. I am running my traditional play (you know the one, say some hellos, eat some snacks, go to the spare room to watch tv/play ipad/nap for the next 6 hours. As I am walking in there are sleeping pads all over the floor. Not uncommon, people sleep on those floors a lot during the holidays. Usually me, really. I take a step, feel an odd softness/hard lump, and hear the baby start crying.

   I do what anyone would do: tell the baby to quiet down, throw the blanket over its head, and hope it fades. It doesn't. I check it to see if it's dying. It isn't. I decide to go tell an adult. I find dad and say "... um Baby's crying."

   Dad says "Yeah? She just went down. Everything okay?"

   "I think she got stepped on."

   *startled* "Really?"

   "Yeah. By me. I think I stepped on her. I did, actually. Yeah, it was me that stepped on her and that's why she's crying. She's under a blanket because I put her under it so you wouldn't hear the crying." (A few other people in the house rudely start eavesdropping and ruderly start judging. Him.

   We go, grab the baby (who is totally fine, just a little sweaty in the face), and he says "Mom shouldn't have put her right in front of the door." (She really was, though next to a bed. Horrible parenting.)

   Now, here's the good news: The above story is true, and happened about 4 years ago. Baby has grown up just fine, apart from that big bend in her leg that we think comes from wearing shoes on the wrong feet a couple times.

Something really cute and happy must be happening right now.

   Bad news: I stepped on my second baby yesterday. Mine.

   Now, Nielsen Ratings estimate that 93% of people step on at least two babies during their lifetimes. So if it hasn't happened to you yet, it will. Also, protip: If your made up stats don't end in 0, 5, or 2, they are much more believable.

   We were again at Cara's parents house. I was again playing games on my ipad, and was told Link needed a new diaper. I don't know why Cara didn't just change it herself, she was just watching a lifetime movie. Yeah, we get it, they had a kind of hard past and you're going to spend two hours showing them that they love each other. They'll probably buy a cute ornament FROM HALLMARK.

   Anyways, Link's on the floor. I see him, get up to grab him, and am still playing my game. I trip on a ski boot, but with my remarkable core strength and balance, I power through and keep walking, all while still pwning some noob. Well, Link moved mid-step and snuck into the path of my trip-step. My foot ended up right on the base of his neck at the spine.

   Remember!! Core strength!! I put very little weight on him, stepped off immediately, beat the game, then took care of him. All's good.

   I get that you read the title of this blog and probably thought I was going to talk about Link's excursions into the world of walking. It turns out he has no interest whatsoever in walking. He's been able to stand - on his own with no assistance - for months. He has great balance and stability, but realizes he can crawl way faster than walk. We've seen him take one-and-a-half steps several times, but then he calmly gets on the ground and crawls.

   It's funny, because Wyatt started walking just before 10 months, which makes him the earliest walker in recorded history despite all of you telling me that your nephew started earlier. But Link is too concerned with eating everything in sight and improving his bite location to really be concerned with bipedal movement.

My mood: ashamed
Wyatt's mood: alphabet
Lincoln's mood: Wants nothing more than to put his hands in the toilet
Cara's mood: 

Happy Birthday Lincoln!!

   Lincoln has made one whole trip around the sun. Seen all of its sides, knows what to expect. He turned one year old!!

One!! We decided to go with a Mike Tyson themed party because Lincoln has become a bit of a biter, with his 4 razor-sharp teeth. Actually, he only really bites if he thinks you are food, or if his brother has been laying on his back too long. Hasthagchampionshipbelt. Also, really well groomed.

   We had a big party for him. All of our friends and family and most of the important/beautiful people in town came. (Sorry you didn't get invited. Now you know you are none of the above things.)

Wyatt asked "Can we open presents now?!" no less than 68 times. We said yes four of those times.

Lincoln opening presents with all of his decapitated family.

   We bought 24 cinnabons for this shindig. Not the lame "minibons" either but the real deal. Our guests ate 7. Total. I ate 7. In 40 hours. It shortened my life span by roughly 8 months. Like, when I am dying, I'll think "was it worth those seven cinnabons? I could live until almost next year if I hadn't done that." We'll have to see. There's a chance my life is pretty lame at that point anyways. There's also a chance I'll lose another several months to cinnabon binges between now and then.

Uncle Garrett. I can't remember if this was during the party or four hours after. I also can't remember if all those plates were his or just three of them. What's he thinking about, anyways? Murder? A frustrating conversation? Lost?

Mom thought this was cute. Cute that we got him drunk and took a picture, I mean.

We had a friend give us a big inflatable bouncy house. It had no less then 15 holes. It turned into a great air-mattress that turns into a decent floor over time. Here's Wyatt all puckered out. (We were going to use it as a boxing ring, because, yknow, Mike Tyson themed, but we had to cut off all of the house-stuff because of all the holes. THANKS FRIENDS, for the holy bouncy house for free.

   No one was more excited about this than Wyatt, who loves Link so much it's stupid. You remember Wyatt's first birthday. We got him a candle and threw a huge Legend of Zelda party and I filmed while Cara burned his fingers.

   This time around, we decided I'd manage the sugar and Cara'd do the filming. I'd love to show it to you, but Cara actually didn't film it. Like, I was writing this blog post and she said "You know I don't have any video, right?" I'm pretty sure she took a couple selfies instead.

   So, when I record, she burns the kid, but we get it on film. When she records, everything goes great, but we don't get it on film. When I record AND do everything, it'll be the Lincoln's second birthday and she'll be in the corner. Where she belongs. For hours.

   Lincoln is way more fun at one year than he was at one month. Laughing all the time, always happy unless he's hungry, which he always is, following his brother around and pulling mom's hair. Can't wait for more birthdays with this guy. Any maybe without Cara.

My mood: sugar-high
Wyatt's mood: unsure how to handle the fact that Lincoln has his own toys now.
Lincoln's mood: unsure how to handle any of his own toys.
Cara's mood: blaming everything on the camera. "It was set to night-time!!"
Listening to: Christmas music.

The L-Word

Behold, and weep!! Witness before you the image of the world's perfect family!! Tremble at the awe you feel and the insecurity growing in your stomach over the inadequacies of your family!! Ignore the fact that Lincoln is actually crying and the only reason Wyatt is smiling is because I am tickling him!!(more thanks to Kaela May  https://www.facebook.com/kaelameyphoto/?fref=ts )

   We've done a lot of things right as parents. You can tell this is true by our perfect picture above. One of the best parent choices we've made is to name the second special kid something that starts with "L." Right up there with our choice to double-down on that bacon sale last month. Hearing Wyatt say "Baby Winkin" for the past 11 months has been nothing short of glorious.

   Sadly, it's past time that we start working on how clearly Wyatt talks. Lots of his friends were getting frustrated with him, not knowing what he was saying. (I kept trying to convince them that what he was saying wasn't actually that interesting, but they wouldn't listen. Little brats.) He struggles with his L's, Th's, and long division. I spent most of the summer saying "luh-luh-luh-luh-Lincoln," and showing Wy how I put my tongue on the top of my mouth. He would practice, starting with Wuh-wuh-wuh-wuh-Winkin." This quickly turned in to "Luh-luh-luh-luh-Winkin," which was a step in the right direction, but there wasn't any real improvement. Even words like "like," "love," "left", "three," "the," and "mom" are still said as "wike," "wove," "weft," "free," "da," and "the worst."

   It was a bit discouraging to work at these phonetics for so long and not see any real change. I was getting a little nervous, actually. Then, all of a sudden, one day Wyatt said "Llllincoln's poopy!!" I didn't notice at first, but Wyatt said the "L" very deliberately. I also didn't really notice that Lincoln was poopy, because I was busy recording my mixtape. But a little later, it was "Hey dad! Llllincoln lllikes this!" while dragging Link across the kitchen by his ankles.

There it was. Two deliberate, accomplished L-words in a row. We made it.

Wyatt teaching Winkin how to pick wocks at dad's work.

   It's pretty great to hear him try to say all L-words with that deliberate effort. But there is one word we haven't changed, and hopefully never do: "littlest."

   He has said "Yitterest" the whole time. Like, "Dad, Winkin is the yitterest baby!" or "Dad, how come you're muscles are the yitterest?!" or "Mom, you are home the yitterest and should have lots of guilt about that!!" It's amazing how articulate and cutting he can be. "Yitterest" is the best thing in our lives right now. Besides the X-Files, obviously.

   So, we're torn with helping him learn and grow as an almost-teenager (only 9 years away!), while trying to keep him cute and cuddly and also trying to get him to do the dishes. It's a tough balance, but as always, I'll handle it perfectly.

My mood: Sad that Wy is growin up
Wy's mood: He's not tired, but sleepy. He made this very clear to me as he crawled in bed for a nap.
Lincoln's mood: 3 teeth to cut!! We're all miserable!!
Cara's mood: Off to work.