Mobile Sandbox!!

   Whoa! This was unexpected!! I made a quick, kind-of-spontaneous trip to by some soil for our planter boxes and berry bushes, but wasn't able to lay the soil for a while. Guess what resulted?! That's right!! A giant sandbox on wheels!!

Well, it's not sand, obvs, because we aren't planting our veggies in sand, so don't freak out on me about my soil choice, but sheesh did Wyatt love playing in that dirt.

Nothing makes a man feel like a more accomplished father than having his son all dirty, smiley, and happy to play in the bed of his truck, while that man crushes Candy Crush and hums some bars of Frozen.

Who knew that spending 30-some bucks on dirt could feed our plants AND feed Wyatt's imagination?! I did, but you didn't so now you ... do ... wait...

Fertilizer?

That... that was fertilized dirt he was playing in. And then eating. And then licking me. Does that ...huh. So, I guess that means that I am still a really great dad and we shouldn't dwell on this anymore but just remember how happy he was and how awesome it was and goodbye.

My mood: not at all disgusted
Wyatt's mood: not at all clean
Listening to: not at all Frozen

An Ode To Keens

   Keens. These are the world's greatest shoes for a young walker. I haven't actually tried every shoe, but these are tough to beat. Let me tell you why:

• Go on super easy
• Stay on super well
• Protect the toes
• NO LACES
• Can get wet no problem
• No socks
• Super cute
• Little loopie things on the heels (those might seem like they are trivial, but pulling the heel of that shoe out as the foot goes in can be magical. Also, I felt like I needed more than seven things on the list)

   Cara found our first pair at a thrift store. Wyatt wore them for weeks, which is like years in baby time. Then we realized they were different sizes. After that, we scoured sales and thrift stores and garage sales and other people's closets when they weren't home. We have the pair you saw above, and are planning on buying every-other size for the rest of his life.

   They are literally the only shoes he has worn in the past 4 months. I don't even know if we have all the matching pairs with the rest of his shoes anymore.

   Now, let's make one thing clear: These shoes are not Chacos.

   

   Chacos are the world's best shoe, obvs. No self-respecting adult doesn't not wear any other shoe. One day he'll grow into his first pair, and, in a perfect world it would be his only pair. Because they are that great. They are the world's best shoe because:

• look at them
• no, seriously, have you seen them?
• and look at how little Wy's shoes are compared to mine?! What a cute little guy he is.
• Also, you'll note that I don't have a toe strap. This was a big decision on my part. I mean, when you get a pair of Chacos you are wearing them for life. Maybe not your whole life, but definitely the cool exciting parts of your life.
• I plan to die in these Chacos. I mean, like, seriously, I have planned my death and I will be wearing my Chacos. No, I'm not going to tell you the plan. Forget it.
• No! Really! Forget it!
• Okay I'll tell you this: flying squirrel suits.

• No. Wait, no. Not that. That's just an adorable kid's costume. In fact, I might get one of those. No, I am talking about the actual dudes that fly in those suits and aren't little girls:

• What is going on?!
• And where is her torso!?

• There. That's just a part of the plan. Not the whole thing, or even the exciting part, because that would be terrifying.
• Also I am obvs not wearing Chacos in this part of the plan.

   In conclusion, Keens are great for toddlers. In fact, I think they are my best piece of advice: If you have a toddler, you should get them Keens. (Do you remember my best baby advice? It was Netflix. I even updated my list of shows you should watch on there, because, when you have a baby you will be stuck in one position for hours, so make that position in front of a TV.)

My mood: dwelling on my mortality

Wyatt's mood: smells like sunscreen!!

Listening to: Jars of Clay

Everything A Guy Fears About Having Kids (And Some Things They Should)

   So you're a dude. You're a dude who is either single, in a relationship, or married without children. And you're stalling. Or you're afraid. Or you just think you don't want kids. Kids will take away your freedom and kill your fun. You're worried about your future because you are enjoying your present, and have enjoyed your past.

   I've seen the future. Let me tell you about it: it's terrifying.

   It was the 4th of July. 13 kids. All of them 8 or under. Two straight-up-babies. 4 nights. Boys and girls. A lake. A lakehouse. Explosives. Incomplete sentences. This is the setting of a dude's horror film.

   Now, luckily, the kids were well-behaved (except for Doug, who was the worst). But this weekend had everything that every future dad fears. In no particular order:

   Diapers. Bed Time. Seatbelts. Sunscreen. Meal Time. Messes. Other People's Kids. THE QUESTIONS. Safety. Clothes. Fussing. Never Sleeping. Let's get into it.

   Diapers
They really aren't that bad. Unless you can't handle the smell, or the idea, it's no big deal. You might have to change eight in one day and then one in eight days, and both of these will stress you out. You'll learn how to feed them food that makes the poo hard and you'll learn how to get your mom to change them when she's over. Diapers are not an issue. Get over it.
Your Fear Level: starts high and quickly plummets.

   Bed Time
This is not hard when your kid is a baby like mine. But wow. When there are several of them, and they "need" to brush their teeth (I say "need" in quotes, because I am pretty sure that brushing teeth is optional, but no dentist will ever tell you this), want a story, want a snack, and want to stall. I don't have kids plural, but I can tell that getting kids to bed will involve lots of threats and a whistle and then some marital counseling.
Your Fear Level: justified and accurate.

   Seat Belts
You know what I'm talking about. Having carseats and buckles and putting kids in and pulling them out. Belt buckles were seriously one of the most frustrating things about being in a van with 4 kids. The kids are always sitting on the part you need, it's always buried under carseats, and it's impossible to match the right buckle with the right strap. Goodness it is frustrating. But there's good news: If you can invent a system that never has the hookups underneath a kid's rump, you'll be a billionaire.
Your Fear Level: justified and accurate.

   Sunscreen
Ohmygosh run away. It is everywhere. It is sloppy and messy and runny. It doesn't work. You have to apply it every 6 minutes. If you don't someone dies. Make your kids wear the shirt, stay inside, and hope they love reading. Did you know that if a baby gets a bad burn in the first two years of its life, it's risk for cancer greatly increases? My wife told me this, so if I am wrong, as always, blame her. Gah I hate sunscreen.
Your Fear Level: You have no idea. A fear level of "Off the charts" suggests it was ever on the charts, and that would be misleading.

   Meal Time
So, this one. You've seen moms and dads have to prepare food, cut food, serve food, clean up food, and never actually eat any food themselves. Meal time is tiring and it is work, but, it is always preceded by fussiness or some sort of whining, so it is a great alternative. At some level, meal time is the part that is the most rewarding. It is hard and it is work, but it is worth it. So, yeah, be afraid of it, it's the worst, but it's also not that bad. There will be messes, it'll be okay.
Your Fear Level: Too high, calm down.

   Messes
Do those bother you already? They shouldn't. You're a dude, get over it.
Your Fear Level: it's nothing new.

   Other People's Kids
Hmmm. This one is a tough one. Do you ever punish or reprimand? Do you congratulate them for little things? Do you try to engage with them? What if they are too rough? Or too scared? What if they are annoying or disobedient? I don't know. Feel it out. You're on your own here.
Your Fear Level: It is too low. This is serious. You could screw something up, like, with real people.

   THE QUESTIONS
There are so many of them. Just so so many questions. So many, poorly phrased, slowly expressed, non-sensical questions. "oh, so, um, do you, do you, so, do you like to, so, um, do you like to go to school? Do you like to go to school?" When your brain eventually learns to tune in to just the last part, after all of the practice stuff, that's when you can begin to heal as a person. You will save your sanity for your later years when you really need it.

I cannot stress enough just how many questions are coming your way in your future. Just, think about putting Socrates on repeat on your walkman and you'll know what it's like. There's nothing to really fear, just know that it's coming and you'll need coping mechanisms. Preferably mechanisms that aren't alcohol-related, because that's a bad combination, coping and alcohol.
Your Fear Level: This is another one that you are accurately fearing. Just know it's coming.

   Safety
We were at a lake. The kids had to wear lifejackets if they wanted to approach the water. It was fine.
Kids aren't going to be safe. You have to let that go. Last night (this is totally a true story), Wyatt fell through the window. Like he was walking along the window sill, the screen broke off, and he fell through. It. Was. Terrifying. He might have hit his head on the planter box, or landed on his neck, or broken a bone, or had a great time and laughed. I had NO WAY OF KNOWING. Look at this picture I took while he was lying on the ground crying, right before I grabbed him:

Kidding! I'd grabbed him and consoled him and all that stuff first.

They aren't going to be safe all the time. Just do the best you can and relax. Try to train them well, and have the hospital on speed dial. Especially if you have boys.
Your Fear level: probably accurate, but you should still take it down a notch or two, wherever it is.

   Clothes
Not a big deal. Chill out. Once the kid starts putting his arms through the sleeves on his own, you're good.

   Fussing
Seriously? You're worried about this?! No. Sunscreen, man, sunscreen. That's what separates the men from the men.

   Never Sleeping
Do you sleep now? Aren't all you guys out clubbin' and playing video games and drinking and partying until the wee hours anyways? Sleep is overrated. Batman only sleeps like two hours a night on average. Not sleeping is not a big deal. In fact, I found having a baby gave me a great opportunity/excuse to watch a lot of TV and play a lot of video games when he was up, by him just laying on me or wanting to be held. The never-sleeping aspect of parenting is hard at times, but it's a great excuse for all the things you normally screw up anyways. Principal: "Grant, why did you just tell your students you don't care if they are late to your class or someone else's?!" Me: "Sorry coach, I haven't been sleeping. You know. The baby."
Your Fear Level: Way, way too high. Use this to your advantage.


   For What It's Worth, everything I listed above isn't a huge deal with just one kid. Especially with just one baby. Sure, I've floated the river less than 5 times in the last three years (and I once floated the river 5 times in three days), and I now watch more Word Girl than New Girl, but all of the above things were the potential cons to a list, with none of the pros. Having a kid is worth it and it's great.
   Did I miss anything? Any thoughts?! Comment and let me know!!

Dancing Kiddo!!

   Wyatt actually loves to dance. He gets from his daddy, who is widely regarded as one of the best closet-dances ever. If no one is around, I am able to bust some moves that I am pretty sure would make great youtube fodder. But, this isn't about me (though maybe it should be), it's about Wyatt, Ke$ha-with-a-dollar-sign, and Wreck It Ralph. Watch.

   Since pretty much every dance/rap song ever involves having hands in the air and/or expressing a lack of care, it is fitting that hands in the air is Wy's go-to dance move. In that video above, I edited about two minutes of him just watching the TV with his hands in the air, occasionally waving them around. It's pretty funny. Here's more.

   See! The hands in the air!! Did you see it!! For what it's worth, I think Wyatt's dancing is better than the stuff in the music videos to these songs. The Postal Service Owl City sings "When Can We Do This Again," and it features some of the creepiest faces, lean-ins and crooked smiles I can imagine in one place, from one person. It's like you watch it and think "Oh wow so you're like 40 and are unable to stop staring at that camera." Here, watch.

   Wasn't that simultaneously cute and creepy?? I can see the director of the video being like "Hey, Owl? Can we try another move? No? We can't. You just have the "lean one shoulder, stare and half smile?" Ok. Great stuff. Let's do that seven times in three minutes." Remember, I know about dancing because of my title as World's Greatest Closet Dancer Probably.

Let's do one more video, this time with a bit more wholesome music in the background.

   I don't know why I love Ke$ha so much. I can't get enough of her. She really does make the hipsters fall in love. Sometimes I am walking down the street and suddenly I think "oh what a shame that you came here with some-ooooonne" and then I think "why on earth is this song ALWAYS in my head, even if I haven't heard it for two  months!?" It's annoying, and I feel like there's some sort of government mind control going on.

   So, there you go. My son loves to dance, but it's really just marching around the room with his hands straight up. He does it all the time, whenever any sort of music is playing, and it makes my life much better.

My mood: tired from dancing
Wyatt's mood: tired from dancing
Listening to: Kesha...

Playing In The Sink!!

Look at him! He looks like a little man! A little man with.. a... lazy eye? Should I get that looked at?

   The four sinks in our house represent Wyatt's four favorite places in our house. He could spend hours flicking water, dumping and pouring water from one cup to another pot, splashing and dripping. And when I say "He could spend hours" what I really mean is "He spends hours."

   Why do I let him do this? Well, there are lots of reasons. The main reason is obviously "Because it's best for him," I am sure, for some reason. Don't ask me to justify that statement.
   But other reasons include "Why not?" and "It lets me nap on the floor" and "He's not doing any harm!" Now you could respond to each of those reasons in order by saying "It wastes water and costs money," "Wait, what?!" and "Yes he is! Your counters are water logged," and you'd probably be right. But let's look at some other pros:

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.

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!!

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. 

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.
 

Perfectly Legal Adventures

   We have a few heavy duty pieces of baby gear. Beyond just a crib and a Pack N Play and a manlyvan. No, I'm talking about the jogging stroller and the bike trailer.

   The jogging stroller is perfect for the active parent on the go. It turns quick, rolls away from you so you have to chase it, and can carry your mail! Wyatt and I go for runs probably nine times a week, and I can almost make it around the whole block now. Talk about some serious equipment.

But, it pales in comparison to the almighty bike trailer.

So... here's the thing about bike trailers and babies. Um, there's a big gray area, we'll call it. In the great state of Oregon (easily one of the top five states touching the Pacific Ocean, which is easily the best ocean), no one under the age of 16 can ride a bike without a helmet. This includes kids in bike trailers or in a bike basket or whatever.

BUT! Babies under the age of two (it doesn't apply to just babies - anyone under the age of two) can't wear a helmet. At least, that is what we've been told or heard. It's sort of like the "do you need a lifejacket if you are floating in a personal innertube" law that no one is really clear on and no one ever actually tries to look into. So he's too young to ride without a helmet, but also too young to wear a helmet. Hmm.

I think I've worked out a solution to the problem, however:

Parental Savior!!

   Oh man oh man oh man. I was taking Wy for a walk when we came across a garage sale. Like all good garage sales, this one had a "free" box, which basically means it's full of garbage they're hoping we'll grab out of pity. You know, it always has things like a single Reebok shoe, a few chewed up dog toys, and a VHS copy of She's All That or Goodburger or something.
   So, like I always do, I thumbed through the box of rejections. Then I came across the book I have been waiting for since, I dunno, maybe my whole life?!

   The heavens opened and I saw it. 101 Ways to be a Special Mom, by none other than Vicki Freaking Lansky. This is what I've needed. I feel like, at best, I've been a mundane, ordinary, not-at-all-special parent. I mean, I certainly haven't done anything super special to differentiate myself from all of those other parents out there, but with this book I knew I had the key, an advantage no one else had because they hadn't read this book.
   Before I even cracked it open, I had all kinds of questions: One hundred and one ways!! It's amazing there's that many, and that it lands on that perfect amount! I wonder if she had to cut some out to get such a cool number? Is there any possible way this could apply to dads too?! Are these things I would naturally do, or does this stuff only come natural to moms?! Is anything going to be kind of creepy?!

Safely Sleeping!!

   I've done it! I've invented a revolution in baby sleepification and safety!!

   (Look at how the cute little guy just sleeps in his stroller. Do you see that bottle of pills blending in with his onesie? He grabbed it off the counter a few days ago while I was holding him, and has held on to it as his rattle ever since. It has like four ibuprofen pills in it. Also, did you know his mom is a pharmacist?! Also! Look at how big he's getting!!)

   Like most babies, I assume, Wyatt falls asleep in carseats and strollers and things that strap him in. I'm sure he feels safe and secure, like when he was in the womb, only less wet. Well, I would always wake him up when I'd move him from the stroller or carseat to his queen sized bed crib! It was just the worst!!

   So I came up with a solution:

Baby in the carseat in the crib.

   This is the best of all worlds!! The baby is safe, secure, comfortable, and in his crib. If we were to have to hurry and get in the car, he'd be ready to go! And I try to leave the carseat's handle up to act as a roll bar. Boom.

   And yes, this does make me a fantastic father. For all time. No matter what happens from here on out, I can rest assured, knowing that I am a good dad, because I found a way for my little one to be safe from cars AT ALL TIMES.

My mood: satisfied and excited!!
Wyatt's mood: safe and sleepy!!
Listening to: The Killers

(sidenote: what on earth do you think the womb is like? Nevermind, I don't want to know what you think. I'll just tell you what I think. I think it's warm and moist and dark and cramped, so it pretty much involves the worst combination of words possible.)

Pro-tip: Leave Food On The Floor

     Ahh Cheerios. How I adore you and your bland, heart-healthy source of nourishment. I've been told by many other mothers that if I put some cheerios in one place, that the baby will be occupied picking and eating them for a good while. It's a great way to buy some time and feed the baby.

     Well, moms, let me show you what a man can do:

     Spread the cheerios all over the house!! In every nook and cranny! Now, wherever he goes, he'll be fed and occupied! For hours!! It's wonderful. I've even tested my theory and left the house to run some errands. Wyatt was content crawling around for almost the whole time! Only the last hour or so was he crying hysterically (I assume it was about an hour, I can't really know. I am just judging based on how hoarse his voice was, how tired he was, and the fact that he was out of tears). I don't limit myself to cheerios either, but any bread-like substance:

Crumbs of bread by the coach. Wy loves them!!

     Well, I've taken this idea and really Tim-the-tool-man-Taylor'ed it like a Binford Jigsaw Ultra 2000. It's not just cheerios anymore. I'll lay around bread of any sort, fruits and veggies, little piles of sugar - and then I had this great idea:

     Juice!!

     If I just pour some juice on the floor, he can find it whenever. On the vinyl, it pools up for him to drink like a cat. On carpet it gets naturally absorbed by the fibers, where he can find it and suck it whenever! He's able to feed himself! It's every dad's dream. And I made it happen. How resourceful I am.


     I am thinking about other things I can make for him, like a bottle that props on the carseat so he can drink while I drive, or a gerbil-style feeder for his crib. It's my goal to have as much un-interrupted Zelda time as possible, while teaching Wyatt self-reliance.

     (For the record, I have never left the baby alone at home, or anywhere else. I am afraid to leave him in the car when I pay for gas at the pump. In fact, since I am such a devoted parentm when I put him down for the night in his crib, I usually just stare over it until he wakes up. That's daddy-of-the-year stuff right there.)

My mood: dopey
Wyatt's mood: bashful
Listening to: Pink Martini

One Armed Daddy!!

     Well people, if you didn't know, I'm pretty broken. I had ACL surgery in March and shoulder surgery yesterday, both on my left side. I knew having a baby was hard on your body, but this?! So I am typing and living with one arm and 1.5 knees.

     Before my shoulder surgery I was practicing doing my chores with one arm. Making a bottle, picking up Wyatt, feeding him, changing his diapers, and dressing him. Some were more successful than others. I was actually real surprised with how well the diaper change went, but Wyatt was being uncharacteristically cooperative. Also, typing "uncharacteristically cooperative" with one hand takes like an hour.

Putting him to bed.

     I've actually been holding him like this for months. It gives me a free hand and he really enjoys it. It quickly turns into this:

It's fun up high!!

Or this:

It's fun swinging back and forth!!

Swinging back and forth or spinning in a circle always gives him a smile. I guess when you are a baby, pretty much all carnival rides can be accomplished by daddy!!

     Did you notice those purple socks? Who am I kidding, of course you did. They are put on pre-surgery and are pretty much all I wear around the house. They are thick and soft and have little grips on the bottom. I plan to wear this exact outfit when I go back to work.

     Let's close with a cute picture!!

Cute mommy and baby!

My mood: drugged
Wyatt's mood: happy!
Wife's mood: sleepy
Listening to: ipod on shuffle

Feeding Your Family

     People ask me all the time: How are you able to work, care for your baby, maintain the house, keep your fantastic style and make consistently delicious, wholesome meals? It must be a lot of work!!
     Well, I'll help you out. I've taken the time to show my general meal making process, and you can adapt to your own tastes and families! It's really just two or three simple steps!!!

     It all starts with carbs. Lots and lots of carbs. Either rice or noodles, take your pick.

Brown rice and noodles. One or the other every night!!

     Step two is the most important step. Find some sort of sauce, heat it up, and pour it over the cooked carbs.

Pesto (Costco), Yellow Curry Sauce (Trader Joe's), Spaghetti
Sauce (Safeway) and, um, Salsa? (Costco?) all make great carb toppings.

     Bang! Just like that, you've got a great meal! Nothing more is needed!

     BUT!! If you want more, you can always add chicken!

Roasted chicken (recommended), frozen chicken, or chicken of the sea (not pictured) are all great chicken options. 

     You might be thinking "I don't think chicken sounds good with spaghetti sauce or, um, salsa." I reply with "You never know unless you try! I haven't tried, though, because it sounds kind of gross."


     Now, if this seems like too much work, we can cut out a step:

Frozen orange chicken (Costco) or frozen bbq teriyaki chicken (TJ's) can
combine steps two and three!! And it tastes fantastic!

     You might be thinking "What about vegetables?! Doesn't your growing family need vegetables?!" I reply with "That's the beauty of those sauces! They throw all kinds of vegetables in there for taste and health so you can pretty much just drink the stuff and you're set!"

     And just like that, you have 7 or 8 meals in a row all planned out! You don't even need to pay for a meal plan!!

     Now, if you're family isn't at home with you and you need dinner (or any meal), well, I have one thing to say:

True story: I was given boxes of this cereal for birthdays and graduation presents in high school.

     Keep your eyes out for the release of my cookbook!! I've been working on it for years. I will take all recipes that come from the back and side panels of the foods and ingredients you buy in stores, and put them all in one place! So if you ever forget how to make a batch of Ghirardelli brownies, you'll be able to find the instructions!! Why hasn't anyone done this sooner!? (Don't steal my idea).


My mood: feeling accomplished
Wyatt's mood: stoic
Listening to: Tears for Fears

Raising Up Baby

     I am the first of my friends to have a kid. At least, the first of my friends in Eugene. I have several friends in Portland and elsewhere who have babies, but here in town Wyatt is a bit of a novelty. When my friends get to see him, they ask a lot of tough questions. What toys are you going to have him play with? Will you let him play video games? Will he play sports? Do you think you'll let him watch a lot of television? Are you going to teach him math? All of these questions have the central theme of wondering if the things I like, he will like, or if I will be a good parent.

     I've received some good advice a couple times: Work to not push your desires (and insecurities) onto your kid. So, if Wyatt wants to do the things that I do, great, but if not that's fine. I just know that when he is playing with toys, I want them to be creative at some level. So, blocks, LEGOs, lincoln logs, and train sets are all wonderful. If he just wants Ninja Turtles and GI Joes, and giant plasticy toys, we can find a nice balance.

     I don't think I'll get Wyatt video games for a long, long time. I didn't have any until 8th grade (and even then it was a plain old NES, when the 64 had been out for several years) A lot of video games have great puzzles and opportunities to be super creative, but most of them really do involve shooting people and stealing cars. We'll see. This means he'll just have to watch me play and I'll answer the question "When's it my turn?" with "In seven years."

     I find myself setting goals that are very unrealistic. Like that he won't ever eat fast food with us, won't watch too much TV, and will be in calculus by the age of 14. Months. But, if there's a 30Rock marathon on, we're watching HOURS of TV.



     Other questions my friends ask me: Is it stressful having a life in your control? Do you go a little crazy? Where do you find your inspiration to be such a brilliant writer? Do you think Wyatt will like math? Do you think he'll be good at sports? How did you master all forms of social media so effortlessly? Do you still have that TV for sale? Did you watch New Girl last night? What's it like being so many things to so many people?

     My answers? Well, they are humble of course, but they go like this (in order to your questions): What's new? How could I, when I have the internet? From within, and from out there. I doubt he'll like it as much as I do. He most certainly will not. It wasn't effortless. I do. Of course I did. It is what it is.

Parenting!!!

It's what televisions are for.

My Best Baby-Having Advice

     To all of you potential, soon-to-be first time moms out there like myself. Please, please heed this advice:

     Netflix Instant.

     It is the most valuable, important, life-and-sanity saving thing you can do to prepare for having a baby. Don't worry about diapers and cribs, or fomulas and bottles, or asking yourself "How early is too early to start spanking?" The answer is 4 months. Four months is too early.
     No, just make sure you have some sort of medium to entertain yourself without needing to change DVDs manually.

     You will spend so much time sitting in one place while you feed, rock, or just trying to keep that baby asleep while precariously perched on your still-not-flat belly that you can't move. And television is no good during the day. Even the internet requires too much mouse-moving.

     Get Netflix Instant.

     I have watched so much TV on Netflix in the past two years four months that I think I am a wonderful source of knowledge for shows that are worth watching. I thought I'd compile them in a list. I'll be adding to it and updating it as I find more, and feel free to suggest shows to me as well, but consider this your one stop for the best television on Netflix.

     It's posted over there. Under pages.

Crafts!!

     Those of you that know me know that I am super crafty. In fact, you're often offering to buy things from me at reasonable prices that I just sort of throw together. Well, now's your chance to fulfill that dream!! I figure I am home so much, supporting my family from the couch, that I might as well put my talents to work.

     I'd like to introduce you to Kute Krafts!! I wrote those words with K's because K's are so crazy krazy and unexpected!!

     The first craft is one very near and dear to my heart. When my siblings and I were born, we had Christmas ornaments made that were sleds. They had our name and the year written on them too. It was our favorite ornament to put on the tree every year. I thought I should make my son one as well.

     As with all manly, woodworking projects, it's best to start with a detailed plan, and to stay focused:

The original plan

      Then it's time to head to the hardware store and grab the necessary, manly materials.

Remember, power tools aren't toys, and should be taken seriously.

     including:
Popsicle sticks
scissors
glue
table saw
ruler
colored pencils/markers
gas mask
hammer
box cutter
compass
chainsaw (not pictured)

     I begin to assemble the top of the sled.

Calculus book and mouse are not required

And I make the rails of the sled, which is super hard. Let the glue set, make sure it looks good, and now for the stressful part. Painting. I find paint terrifying. You make one mistake, let one drop fall, and something is a different color forever. So here's my trick (and I don't know why more people don't do this): just dip the whole thing in the paint! It saves on cleaning brushes, makes sure you get every little edge and corner, and is kind of fun!

You'll notice the baby is being well observed and cared for in the mean time.

Aaaaand now I see why people don't do that. It's a mess to clean, and to get to dry in the right way, the whole thing is think and feels like a big glob of paint, and you can see my thumbprint on the bottom of it (I'll pretend like that was my signature years later). Ugh.

Not a missed edge - all painted in under four seconds!

Finally, I need to write the inscription on the top. Something like "Wyatt 2011" and "Baby's 1st Christmas" or "Wy loves daddy more than mommy." What do people use to write these things? I seriously have no idea. Glitter? Frosting? I figured I'd use glue and just let it harden. I also wanted to put little dots at all the corners of the letters like people always do.

Attempting to write with glue

All finished! What a cute little sled. If you are wondering why I chose the color I did, that blue is the same color as the baby's nursery. Isn't that adorable! I am so clever and cute!

Of course, when the wife comes home from work all she notices is that the baby is crying by himself, he's hungry, the house is a mess and I am still in my underwear, but come on! I spent 11 hours making a beautiful piece of art that will one day support our family financially. Back off!

If you'd like your own Christmas sled, just send me a note to let me know. They are $95 plus parts, and shipping isn't included. Make your checks out to Kute Krafts!!!

Wyatt's Mood: calm
My Mood: cabin fever!!
Listening to: James Taylor