Pretty Hungry!!

Lincoln was crying before this picture was taken, and Wy never knows what to do with that.
I knew: Stop everything, take a picture.

   There are things that people never tell you about parenting. Granted, these are precious, precious few things, because everyone and their butler has opinions to share with you. And they will share them with you, but seriously, some things you don't think about until it's too late.

   Here's a big one: Sharing your food with the children. Cara and I are horrible about this. There have been times we've taken the kids to a restaurant (still getting used to that term, "the kids." Like how my students have a tough time getting used to calling me "Overlord Gilchrist"), ordered food for just her and I, with the intention of sharing some with Wyatt. Then, seven minutes after the food has shown up, it's gone, and we realize that Wyatt hasn't even sniffed at a french fry.

   I hate sharing my food with Wyatt. I also hate making him food and not eating it myself. I loathe the idea of food existing and it not being for me. Are you eating right now?! STOP IT!! Put the food down and I will come over and eat it for you. No judgements.

   You have to understand. Growing up in the house I did, you had to eat your food fast and you had to claim it in a hurry. Not because there were a lot of kids, mind you. Not even because there wasn't enough food. It's because I wanted all of it and I would eat it all so my siblings and parents really had to get aggressive. Sometimes they'd even call me to dinner late so they could get a head start. Joke's on them, though, because whenever they did this I'd just go to the kitchen at night and eat most of the noodles dry so they wouldn't have any spaghetti the next day.

   Today, I made a meal that Wyatt and I were going to share. Screw Cara. He was outside playing with the boys, so I figured I'd eat my portion and then give him the rest. You have no idea how much self control it took for me to not eat the entire thing. Maybe you do have some idea, because you are thinking "Holy Crap, Grant, this isn't a big deal. You just don't eat some food. Stop acting like what you are talking about is important," to which I reply "Please don't say the 'crap' word around me."

You're thinking: "Awwww, that's so cute! Wyatt is giving Link a kiss!" No! He's just really hungry because there's never leftovers for him. I knew just what to do, though: Grab a snack and then take a picture. A very blurry picture.

   I saved him a Wyatt-sized portion. When he came back inside, it took some convincing, but he started to eat it. He ate freely and gladly. I started to panic. This meal was good. What if he wanted all of it?! What if Cara saw that I made some food and she wanted some?! I convinced Wyatt he'd had enough. He said "No dad, Wy still hungry!" Ugh, fine. Eat more.

   Parenting is hard.

   I only ended up with like two additional bites. Here I am, a full-grown man. A stinkin' lion, master of his pride, and I am down to counting bites and weighing portions with the little lion cubs. This is not how the jungle intends it. Or the savannah. Why on earth are lions called "the king of the jungle?!" That's clearly malaria. 

   There are other things that are hard, too. Letting your kid play your video games, which will totally ruin your stats. Watching the little brat build a Lego toy when yours would be so much cooler, or when he wants you to read him a book and all you want to do is not read him a book.

Wyatt blowing bubbles from the top of his car. Yes, I know: My pictures never match the theme of my posts. Get over it.

   See, this is the truth. Other mommy blogs out there might tell you that parenting is hard because you LOVE SO MUCH or because you are just SO EXHAUSTED FROM GIVING YOUR KID THE WHOLE WORLD but it's like "come on chill out and ease off the caps, lady." Parenting is hard because being awesome is hard, and adding a kid to that mix just makes it that much harder for me to be constantly awesome.

Wyatt's mood: skinned knees all the time
Lincoln's mood: aloof
My moodSOHUNGRY
Cara's mood: watching Hunger Games
Listening to: Third Eye Blind

Y'all Are Dropping The Ball!!

     With this being the time of Thanksgiving, I have a simple question to ask of those that know me: What the heck?!

     I don't know if there is any any polite or socially acceptable way to discuss this, but, how come no one has thrown me a second baby shower? I mean, that is a thing, right? Y'all gave us presents when Wyatt was coming, so, what, is this new one not good enough for you?

This is Wyatt's rendition of a Christmas Tree. You can even see it has presents at the base. It is his first true piece of art, and, sadly, is a little better than anything I have ever made. Clearly, he has a baby-shower on his mind.

     Sure, yeah, Cara had a bunch of girls throw her a shower, but she got things like gift cards and diapers and clothes for New Wyatt (still the working name of the baby). When do I get stuff? This new baby needs a dad that has Smash Bros! Do you really expect me to raise a child without the support of the community?! Or without night vision goggles?

     Now, I think I've been pretty patient up to this point, but the baby is due to come any minute now. The doctor recently described Cara as "Holy crap!" and this was at least three weeks before the due date. So when little Bruce Wayne shows up (the new working name of the baby!), I sure hope he's coming into a world where his dad has every season of Animaniacs on DVD.

Wyatt and Lil' Sebastian

     Please don't think I am trying to be selfish here, because, as always, I only want what's best for my growing family. It just seems like none of you have remembered the age old tradition of the second-baby-shower-for-dad that our culture has held dear for ages. You know, we play those classic everybody-hates-them shower games like "Who can eat the most ribs" or "Halo," tell stories about how great I am, and then open presents while the second round of food is being delivered (Please, no pizza, we aren't in college).

     I get it. You just thought that other person was going to be in charge of setting it up, haven't you. I've been there. It's like when I thought Justin Timberlake wanted my phone number so we could be friends, but then I realized he was talking to that girl directly in front of him and he didn't even know I was there. I still gave it to him. You're embarrassed because you think it's too late to throw me a party. It's not!! And it's okay if the party takes place during the baby's birth, even, because it is more important that this little guy know that his dad loves him so much he had to miss the big event to acquire some necessities like a cute little onesie for the baby or a cute little onesie for the daddy. It's worth it.

While Cara was taking this picture, I put my hands on my head.
Wyatt did the same, and I think we have a new tradition.

     So go ahead, take the initiative, throw me a party. It's not too late. Let's not make this a missed opportunity that we'll all regret but most of all you will regret.

They guy who took this picture started getting very, very uncomfortable.

It... it was me,.. I took the picture.

My mood: depressed without any new toys.
Wyatt's mood: depressed without dad having any new toys.
Cara's feeling: unable to sleep and always sore and totally uncomfortable but really excited to make me breakfast.
Listening to: "5000 Candles In The Wind (Bye Bye Lil' Sebastian)"

Big Boy Backfire!!

   When Wyatt turned three a couple weeks ago, he had a proclamation to make: He had entered the world of the big boys.

   "Wy three, Wy not two-half. Wy not little boy, Wy big boy." It was easily the longest story he had ever told with words. (You should have seen the story he told with his hands when his star balloon floated away. Tragic.) It was the closest thing he's come to a full sentence since that time he said "Why doesn't dad pay any attention to me when he's playing Nintendo, mom? It hurts my feelings." (Kidding!! He never said any of that stuff!! It was more like whine whine fuss fuss "dad pay me pease?" So there's no scarring of any sort going on in this home!)

   Well, I've been holding the "big boy" card over his head for a long time now. You see, his favorite people in the world are a pirate named Jake, a certain fire-truck driver named John (who he just calls "J" now, because they are on a nick-name level of friendship), and the four boys who live across the street. These boys are aged 5 - 13 or something, and I've talked about them before, so stop making me repeat myself over and over.

   Wyatt wants to play with them all the time, but when they are playing a real game of basketball or soccer or "throw the littlest one in a trash can," I tell him. "No, Wy, that's for big boys."

   Big boys. All he wants to be in the world is a big boy. So when he turned three, he was ready.

Big boys sleep with the sharks.

   But do you know what else big boys do? Poop in the potty. Eat their whole dinner. Go to bed without fussing. Grade daddy's papers. Pick up their toys. Make dinner. The list goes on and on.

   This worked for a while. Sure, he never once pooped in the potty for this reason, and he has no idea how to grade anything, let me tell you, but he went to bed well and put on his clothes and ate all his food and even made a decent roast.

   But now?! Oh no. The magic is gone. I asked him to take a bath, like a big boy, and he said "Wy not big boy, Wy little boy." It was horrible, Then, later we were at a two-year-old's birthday party, and everyone kept saying how the little punk was a Big Boy now, and Wyatt was kind of in shock. His eyes were all like "Wait, what, THAT'S a big boy? I was a big boy when I was two?! You've been lying to me this whole time. I still like you better than mommy, but this hurts." Shut up, eyes!!

   I had to do something. So you can imagine how awkward it was when I screamed "No! Jason is not a big boy! He's only two!! How can a two year old be a big boy!?" Jason wasn't really getting it, so I had to get down on his level and say into his face YOU. ARE. NOT. A. BIG. BOY. Then I turned and winked at Wyatt, grabbed some pizza, and left.

   Saved the day there.

Big boys take artsy photos. Wyatt grabbed his baby cow, put it on the couch, grabbed mom's phone, logged in with the password, opened up the camera app, took this picture. Big boy stuff. Cara still can't manage to get her thumb out of her iPhone pictures.

   Wyatt gets that the definition of "big boy" is very fluid. He's starting to use it to his advantage. He's very smart, which is a direct result of me sleeping with my head really close to his on most nights. It's going to be a problem, how smart he is. Because, if you haven't noticed, he's also really cute. So he gets pretty much whatever he wants, whenever he wants it. And he's also kind of spoiled by absolutely everyone who comes in contact with him. And he's just the best little thing in the whole world, so I guess there's no way this could turn bad.

See!! I wasn't kidding!!

   What do I tell him next year? That he's a super big boy? That he's a huge boy?! How many superlatives can I tack on to the front of the word "boy" to keep him maturing and growing as a person over the next 15 years?! This is going to be hard. Crazy, enormously, gargantuanly, insanely, immensely hard. Okay, maybe not that hard.

My mood: hoping I didn't ruin a pretty good friendship with Jason's parents. Or Jason.
Wyatt's mood: not wanting to poop like a big boy
Cara's feeling: bigger and pregnanter.
Listening to: Future Islands

New Skills!!

   Wyatt has been doing all kinds of fun new things lately. He still loves his walks and his cars and playing at the park and renaming all my files on the computer to "aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaasd", that hasn't changed, but this stuff is going on too:

   He's doing that fake-reading thing. Nick Miller once said "I'm not convinced I know how to read. I've just memorized a lot of words," and that's where we find our hero in this adorable little video:

   Ohmygosh that's adorable. Probably the cutest thing you've seen in days, right? Well, he also went to the dentist for the first time!! Since I am a great dad I don't miss important firsts like this, so I can tell you all about it.

Hanging out. Like a boss. You know how they say you are never more than eight feet from a spider? First: Gross. Second: Wyatt's never more than two feet from a car.

   We walked into the dentist's office at 6:00am and went up to the desk and said "Here we are!" and the dentist behind the desk was like "whoa okay great let's get right to it!" and Wyatt sat down in the chair and the dentist checked his ears and took his heartbeat and then brushed his teeth and then brushed Wyatt's teeth and gave him a shot of fluoride in the shoulder and wyatt didn't even cry! and then the dentist put on his dinosaur costume and made the "rawrr!" sound and Wyatt just loved that. Soon another dentist came in and was all "these are the best teeth I have ever seen on a kid." and I said "Well we brush them every week!" which probably isn't true and then they gave us our little ice-pick-for-your-teeth like they give everyone and OKAY FINE YOU CAUGHT ME I WASN'T THERE. YOU HAPPY!? I MISSED WYATT'S FIRST DENTIST APPOINTMENT BECAUSE I WAS TOO BUSY AT MY JOB WORKING FOR THE MAN. IT LOOKS LIKE I WILL NOT WIN "FATHER OF THE YEAR THIS YEAR" AND NOW I'LL NEVER HAVE A STORY TO SHARE ABOUT WY'S FIRST DENTIST TRIP. WHEN ALL THE OTHER DAD'S ARE LIKE "OH LITTLE AEDEN WAS SO BRAVE" OR WHATEVER I'LL JUST HAVE TO TRY AND MAKE SOMETHING UP AND WE CAN ALREADY SEE I AM NOT GOOD AT THAT AND I'LL PROBABLY JUST START YELLING LIKE I AM RIGHT NOW.

   So, yeah, Cara took him to the dentist. And Cara is the one he reads with. And Cara feeds him and does art projects with him. Great, Cara, we get it. You'll probably get a nomination for "Mother of the Month This Month" or something and we are all impressed. The worst part is, while she is collecting trophies, I still can't even get nominated for a "Best Mommy Blogger" award that I am sure is a real thing. They keep telling me I "don't have the right equipment to be a mommy blogger," and I'm like "what do I need an iPhone 4 or something?" Then they say "Grantina isn't even a real name - much less a girl's name - please leave us alone!"

   What else... what else. Oh, he loves to look for things he can't find, and walk around in circles saying "Oh no we went in a circle!!" Watch this boring video:

   There's one other skill that Wyatt has learned. For some unknown reason, Cara taught Wyatt to scream all his favorite noises in my face to wake me from my peaceful sleeps. It's the worst game ever, and yet it probably only endears her even more to the anti-dad voters on the board of Mom Of The Month This Month. Look:

 
   So there you go. That's my life, now. Getting screamed at and stepped on whenever I try to sleep at the wrong time, or in the wrong place. Now you know why I sleep during church. Or when I am driving. Or at work.

My mood: underappreciated and overworked!!
Wy's mood: don't let dad sleep!!
Cara's feeling: sore and cranky
Listening to: Red Hot Chili Peppers

Three!!

THIS. CUPCAKE. IS GETTING. MASSACRED.

   My special little kid just turned three years old, everyone!! This is huge news and will have a great impact on your day because of the importance that my child holds in the world!! I can already imagine how you are planning on incorporating this information into your plans for the near future!!

   You've seen how we really did up his first birthday, as well as the absolutely wonderful video that came with it. Then, last year we pretty much just gave him a doughnut (but it still produced a funny video). This year, since Wyatt is probably the most important kid who has a name that isn't a color or a plant or something, he's really had a birthweek instead of a birthday. Celebrations started on Friday with Cara's family (including the special little cousins).

Here's cousin Elsie with her pretty earrings, all ready to move in on Wyatt's present. It looks like ... is he getting a cuisinart?

   Festivities continued into Saturday, where my great friend and True American John took Wyatt and the cousins for a ride on his fire truck out at Camp Harlow.

Yes. Wyatt got to sit in John's lap and drive the firetruck, making Grant the best dad in the world and John the new favorite person in Wyatt's world. Yes, John kind of looks like Grant when they are both wearing the exact same shirt, but John is in his 30's so they are in super different stages of life.

Absolutely perfect.

   We were all set to go swimming at Amazon Pool. We'd fed the kids, changed them, and psyched them up for the slide, fountains and splashes at the pool. When we got there, however, it was closed because a pipe had burst. I really think this is code for "all the lifeguards were hungover," which is unsettling because they are like 16, but whatever. We were super depressed. Birthday ruined, right?! Wrong!! All-Around Hero and True American Grant said "Let's just go to the wave pool at Splash!" and the day was saved.

Wyatt's favorite thing at the pool is of course his dad. This is no surprise, because dad's the best. But his ACTUAL favorite thing is the slide. The whole way down, he laughs, smiles, says "oh whee fun" and then says "again?" before we even hit the water. It's such a blast.

   Wyatt was loving all the fun, attention, and presents, and a huge grin on all day. Cara and I gave him some little flashlights and a couple of cars. Whenever he gets a new car he says "Oh poop car!" because we give him cars when he goes poop, which is like twice a month. No, seriously.

   A few days later, we celebrated with my family.

Wyatt, Papa G, Ash and Kirk Beast. Wyatt's playing with the elevator that Ash and KB gave him

Wyatt, KB, Mama, Some Girl Who's Not Sure Why She's There, and Grmma. Uncle Bear was there too, but was offscreen playing with the lego set he gave to himself Wyatt.

   We're all sure blessed to have such great family around Wyatt. Wyatt's also blessed to have his birthday last for like six years. Wyatt and Mama get birthweeks instead of birthdays, and Dad gets a great birthhour.

   I will say, time hasn't "flown" over the last three years, and I don't think he's "grown up so fast," but already I can see that he's going to start really getting older fast. He's talking more, starting to fake read, like's to act things out in his imagination, and is learning new things all the time. He repeats whatever he hears and loves big kids. I think time is going to start flying now, so I'm going to try to hold on.

   I am sad that he's three, because things are free for kids that are under three at a lot of places. I wanted him to always say "twohalf" whenever he was asked his age. But alas, yesterday after successfully pooping in the toilet, he said "Dad! Two cars!! Two poop cars!! Wy not little boy, Wy big boy. Wy not twohalf Wy three." He then said "Hulk smash!" over and over.

   At least he's not yet too old to cuddle with his mama. He will be someday. I hope. Oh gosh what if he's always cuddling with his mama!?

My mood: happy and proud.
Wyatt's mood: will think it's his birthday every day, I fear.
Cara's feeling: like the little one in the belly is kicking too much and needs to nap more.

Track Star!!

This picture has nothing to do with the following text. In fact
you can ignore my stupid grin and just get going, if you'd like.

   Living in Eugene, Oregon, AKA Track Town USA, AKA Smells Like Pot has lots of wonderful things about it. One of those not-wonderful things is the fact that there's a marathon or 5K or half-marathon for pretty much every cause and every holiday every weekend.

   So, you have to do them. They are for a good cause. They fight hunger, or you walk for a cure, or you walk for heart disease. I've never really understood why anyone would be "for" heart disease but I am sure I am missing something. You can even shuffle for a truffle, which, I'm sure is something we should all support.

   Worse, everyone you know except for you has run a marathon. I can't tell you how sickening it is to see 100 status updates one morning that say something like "Can't believe I did it! Another one off the bucket list!" or "Wow am I tired but I sure feel good. Team Beat Insomnia did it!" (there's a half-marathon to fight insomnia. It starts at 2:00 am. I am lying.) or even "Just finished a marathon and I bet my ex Jordan is still on the couch getting fatter." (Get over it, Sam, you just look sad!) These people are running marathons and you're reading about it while eating cereal because you were too lazy to make pancakes. The only thing I've knocked off my bucket list lately is "spend a whole day in your underwear," which was actually kind of awkward because I had to take out the trash. I mean, how do you expect me to do a 5K!? Don't you know that it's five thousand!!

   Wyatt, however, that kid is going to run marathons, man.

   He can run, non stop, for hours. This is not an exaggeration. He's done it after church, running in circles around the gym, he's done it at this courtyard in town where we go to eat Fro-Yo, and just today he did it around the neighborhood.

   Sometimes we go to visit our friend, Marianne. She's not home a lot, but we stop by anyways. She lives at 1933 Roosevelt Street, which is exactly 0.8 miles from our house. Marianne, who has tons of nice stuff in her living room, wasn't there today around 9:15pm during our run, but that didn't matter to Wyatt because he wanted to go "pas," which is his adorable way of saying "fast." He says it all the time. "Mon da go pas!" (Come on dad go fast!) is easily his most used phrase, distantly followed by "oh car broke" (whenever he sees my broken down Buick Grandma which is for sale by the way only $6000), and "oh no ma wor oh no" (we are sad mom is at work). He turned around and ran home, which means he ran 1.6 miles tonight. Which means I ran 1.6 miles tonight. Which means heck yeah. Here, look at the Google Mapping I made:

Google Map of the route we took.

   His first sentence he ever said was "I gon ge goo!" which, loosely translated, means "I'm going to get you!" He yells it and then runs away from me, wanting me to chase him. He literally wants nothing more than to go pas all the time. When he's not going pas, he wants his cars to go pas or his choo choos to go pas. It's an obsession on par with Ricky Bobby.

   We decided to test out this need for speed, and took him to the last All Comers Meet at Historic Hayward Field. Since you might not live in a track-and-field-and-not-deodorant crazy town like I do, an All Comer's Meet is a track meet put on for anyone and everyone who wants to. A couple even have official enough time keeping to count towards things like national meets and Olympic Trial Qualifying.

   Wyatt went, and here's what happened:

We're in the middle of the screen. Wyatt's in the yellow-orange shirt, I am kneeling behind him giving him pointers. "Okay, now, it's a 40 meter race, so don't go too hard and wait for the other kids to get tired, then sprint hard at the end! If you *accidentally* trip another kid, that's all part of racing and winning and making dad proud."

The race has just started! You can tell because Cara put her finger in the screen a little.

What's the big hurry, kid in the red?! It's just for fun and we weren't even trying to win anyways.

   Just so you all know, I wasn't even going my fastest. If I'd wanted to win in that race I totally could've. It's just that my hamstring has been bothering me a bit lately.

   Once Wyatt really understood what a race was, he wanted to do it again, over and over. We would ready-set-go a few of these for him:

   There was also a long jump that Cara filmed. Well, "filmed" probably isn't the right term. It's more like she was "out looking for sasquatch" who is always in a blurry field.

   Thanks for that glorious, one-second video of Wyatt's first-ever-athletic venture, honey!

   He had a great time, and got a participation ribbon for all three of his events!! (Long jump, 40m dash, softball throw). I am usually totally against the whole "everyone gets a trophy" mentality, but I am all for the "Wyatt always gets a ribbon" craze that is sweeping the country. It will only make him tough and strong. Besides, winning isn't everything, if you lost. If you won, well, winning is obviously all that matters.


   Without really knowing it, I've actually been preparing him for races all along. I've spent the summer building up a little obstacle course in the back yard for Wyatt. It's really not much, it just has him running some loops and climbing some things, but he likes trying to do it faster and faster. Watch!

   My intention with this was actually to work on a few things: Counting (when he does the slalom at the start), shapes (I have him run around a circle, square, or triangle and say the shape each time), putting his face in the water (he's afraid to do it when in pools), climbing and jumping (he is hesitant if there are no cushions), and running under hammocks (self explanatory). There were other things I wanted us to do, like color or make animal sounds, but he just likes the "go pas" ones, so that's what it's turned into.

   Cara's always been afraid that Wyatt will love baseball, because she finds it so boring. I've always been afraid that he'll love math, because then he'll be so boring. Now we are wondering if he's just going to be one of those runners, who just runs all the time and doesn't really know how to throw a hatchet like all the other kids. Still, we're glad he's happy going pas and having fun.

My mood: Actually quite tired from that run. My hips kind of hurt. Ugh.
Wy's mood: Not at all tired from that run.
Cara's doing: Well. Not sleeping great, but that's mostly due to the fact that I am taking up the drums.
Listening to: Third Eye Blind

Big Announcement!!

   Yeah okay let's get this over with we're having another baby.

   I thought about mustering up some excitement and throwing down lots of my trademark double exclamation points!! and trying to build up some suspense or something, but that wasn't going to work. Let's face it: This new one isn't going to be our first one, and that means you aren't going to be as excited.
   My parents already have their first grandkid. My brother and sister already became an aunt and an uncle for the first time. Wyatt's cousins already have cousins. Now it's just more of the same old same old.

   But!! We can still make this exciting!! I'm talking about photos and updates and pinterest and fruit and all kinds of good things!! Here's what I mean.

   Spend half an hour on Pinterest (which my wife does like 6 times a day), and you'll see that pregnancy announcements and gender announcements are A HUGE DEAL. You have to let the world know how cute and artsy you are and how happy you are to be having a baby and also that you are going to be the best parents evar!! So, we've got that covered:

   These are 6 images that appeared on the first page of searching "Pregnancy Announcement" on Pinterest. Let's see what we've got:

Can't spell. Is that ring both an "o" and an "a"? Just trying way too hard here.

Whoa! I don't want to see people making out unless it's me and a steak. Also, walking around on those shoes must've been stressful.

Um, hmmm. Well, so, I guess anyone who can recognize those feet knows who this girl is and that she's pregnant. Angela?

Ah yes, the chalkboard with arrows and colors. Classic.

So, wait, boy + girl + tree = 3? I don't get the math on this one. Maybe it's boy tree girl plus sign three?

And this one!! Okay, actually that's really funny. You guys win.

   As you can see, there's a lot of pressure to pull this thing off right. People need to get excited for you and also know how wonderful you are, all at once. A while back, Cara and Wy and I were bored and decided we'd get a head start on this whole "baby announcement picture" thing. These were the results:

This is the creative process at work.

We realized people would take this the wrong way. WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU?!

True story: We had a friend take these photos. The friend is actually a photographer. The friend didn't want us to use his name because he didn't want anything to do with these things. Thanks, Jake!

We figured we'd make a few with some random dates, just hoping to get the due date right. Notice we didn't put down any years or anything.

What fun we were having.

Our try at the whole mathy thing. Because there'd be four of us. I guess I forgot to add a tree in there somewhere. During this photo-shoot, someone actually walked by and said "What does that even mean? Are you having a baby or something." I politely replied with "MIND YOUR OWN BUSINESS AND DON'T LET THAT DOG POOP ON MY LAWN!" (It wasn't my lawn.) (She didn't have a dog.)

It's not... you know, Cara ...  the baby's not going to be in my belly. Why are you doing this?! You know I've had body image issues ever since we were pregnant the first time around. It changes you.

What is with this belly obsession!?

Do you get it!? Cara drinks water, dad drinks whatever's in that bottle and we're not telling but it's probably just used for cooking anyways, and Wyatt LOVES milk.

Here, we gave Wyatt a bag of chips and said "spell out "I'ma big brother!" or something" and then came back a few hours later.

   So there you have it. The secret's out: Not only are we pregnant, but we aren't photogenic, clever or going to be featured on any pinterest boards.

   Now, I'm sure you have a ton of questions, so let me answer them for you.

   How did this happen?!

   That is not a question I am going to answer. This is a family blog. Well, it's a blog about a family. No, it's really a blog about a dad who needs attention. 

   Are you going to change the name of the blog?!

   To what? "My Kids Is Special!!?" That doesn't even make any sense. You should be embarassed for even suggesting that.

   You should be embarrassed that you can't spell "embarrassed" right. Those aren't my questions, Grant. I have questions like "When will-

   - "When will I get a new little plushy batman drawing for the new kid?" Great question. I probably need to update Wyatt's anyways to reflect his age and sensibilities. We don't know if the new kid is a boy or a girl yet, so the plushy image could be Link or Spider-Man if he's a boy, and Zelda or Samus if he's a girl.

   You are awful at this. At least you answered the question about the gender. When is the soon-to-be-forever-screwed-up-by-this-blog kid coming?

   The "doctor's" tell us it's coming in December, but I think I know my own body and have a good feeling about late August.

   Ugh. Are you going to find out the gender in advance?

   Probably. But not because of ultrasounds or anything. We have a neighbor who has visions about these sorts of things. He accurately predicted that Wyatt would be a boy and he'd be super cute and he'd grow up to be a rock star, so he's pretty reliable. He also knew in advance that Hillary was going to run for president.

   Ugh. How's mom doing?

   Yeah great fine who cares what else?

   Have you thought about names at all?

   Yes. If it's a boy, probably Link or Spider-Man. If it's a girl, um, can you trade those things in for boys?

   What, you don't want a baby girl?

   No no no, it's not that at all. I'd love a baby girl. I don't want a middle or high school girl. Those things are terrifying.

   Aren't you a teacher?

   Yes and if the girl's knew how scared I was of them and their drama they'd have all the control.

   Okay let's wrap this up.

   Well, I'm in charge of this blog. I ask the questions around here.

   No, seriously, I've been asking questions for like 15 minutes.

   Wait, what? Seriously?

   Yes!! That's been your whole gimmick!

   Are... are you sure that's right?

   Well, now I guess we've switched and you are asking stupid questions.

   How did you do this? Are you like a spy or something?

   You keep asking questions. And if I were a spy I obviously couldn't tell you.

   Okay. Got it. You can't tell me. I'll just have to do some digging on my own some other time. 

   I need to be moving on. I can't just sit here and entertain all day. I've got important things to do like mail a few more wedding thank-yous. Let's wrap this up.

My mood: ecstatic! Also, I can't believe any of you would read this far!!

Wyatt's mood: kind of understanding what's going on but not really!

Cara's mood: Sleeping okay these days!!

Listening to: The Shins.

Color Symmetry!!

   Hey guys! Listen up! Wyatt's starting to color coordinate things! Wow is it fun. I need to show you like a hundred pictures to prove it.

You're really glad we got these new, larger, high-quality photos here at MKIS so that you can really enjoy these blocks.

   He did this while we were at the aquariam in Monterey, California. Yeah that's right we went on a trip to the California Sunshine and I didn't even facebook or blog about it because whatever it's not like it's a big deal and I don't have to announce it to the world or anything. Also, Yeah, uh huh, while at the aquariam that had actual sharks, otters, and lots of pictures of jellyfish without actual jellyfish, we spent most of our time playing with blocks that we have at home. Still, this color action was new for him, I hadn't seen it yet.

   Full diclosure: I am not convinced this was Wyatt. There is a chance it was Cara, because this is about at her level of craftsmanship and (in)attention to detail. I think it was the special kid, though, so we'll go with that.

   Man, can you believe it?! Coordinating and symmetric with colors already!! Most kids aren't doing this until they are, I don't know, twelve? (No, seriously, I don't know. Fifteen? Judging by my freshman, it's probably after 15.) And my brother still doesn't quite get that YOU CAN'T WEAR GREY SWEATS WITH A GREY SWEATSHIRT TO OUR AWESOME DINNER PARTIES!! Heck, based on how the girl students at school point at me and laugh, and have even suggested a fashion tumblr for me to follow, it seems that Wyatt is really getting these color-matching skills without any help from his dad's side. Regarding that tumblr: I didn't follow it, but instead sent in a picture of myself and asked what I needed to work on.

 

And so you can really enjoy... whatever this is.

   They did not respond. There's only one way to interpret that: I have nothing to work on.

My mood: so proud Wyatt is inheriting my color-awareness genes (and jeans, if we're lucky)

Cara's mood: trying to stack the blocks higher than ever!!
Wyatt's mood: george george
Listening to: Magic Schoolbus Theme Song

Public Meltdown!!

   We all love watching a train wreck, right? People tune in to see Amanda Bynes break down over the last, what, twenty months? Or LiLo for the last, what, twenty years?! It's just so fun to sit on our couches in our perfect little lives and judge imperfect people.

   That's why a good facebook implosion makes for good blogging. I have a ... friend ... who experienced one of these recently. Now, we all know that raising a child can drive anyone crazy, even if that kid is perfect and, as parents, we too are perfect. Let's watch this one, which happens over the span of about nine hours. Names and pictures have been erased to protect the innocent bystanders.

    Oh, the poor parent. Unsure of how to proceed, and asking for a little bit of help and validation through facebook. Notice how the parent is trying to convince others as well as himself of his lack of fear. A few good friends chime in with some support and advice, but, this isn't looking good.

   Oh man. Not off to a good start here. Why not google these questions? When you ask the random population, someone is going to offer something like fish soap. Do fish need bathing these days? I wonder if he tried sugar, because, it seems like that would work.

   Oh, yeah, this is a clear sign that dad's breaking down. The rules and structure of the household are going out the window. Look at how tatted that little boy is now! And ink on the bed!? Will the madness continue forever!?
   What's that you say? Oh, yeah, I guess the facebook post does have the name "Wyatt" in it, but that doesn't mean it's me. There are a lot of Wyatt's out there. No, we have no idea who is having this humiliating public display, and we never will.

   Notice how abandoned Grant (Shoot! My name!!) is right now. No likes, no advice, no support. People aren't sure how to help, or what to do. He's breaking down!! It's so sad. Also, he's right, it's always coming.

   Whoa!! Where's this coming from!? There's some latent, repressed emotion spewing forth now!! This is like stage 6 of Public Breakdown Stages, and it's not pretty. And why on earth are people liking this?! People are often.

   Okay, what kind of a parent can't tell which sort of thermometer is present?! And when someone offers genuine help (not that jerk talking about taste, but the one who wants a picture), he's totally uncooperative!! He gets what's coming to him, that's for sure.

   Oh, how sad it is when someone has fallen so far that their accomplishments would still be the worst part of anyone's day. And who's the brat that finds all this entertaining!? And look at how Grant (the victim) is getting no support, whereas Wyatt (the perpetrator, the inflictor of harm upon Grant) is getting all the love. Makes me sick. Literally, I think I am getting what Wyatt has...

   WHO CAN YOU TRUST!? That's the main thought going through Grant's mind at this stage. People are exploiting him, mocking him, liking his failures and offering advice. What advice is good?! And look at that Jefferson Ray creep. I am actually including his name and his photo so that EVERYONE KNOWS TO AVOID THIS GUY. KEEP HIM AWAY FROM CHILDREN.

   Whew! A brief respite. Some time to recover and then inevitable relapse. It's so nice to have a break and really feel the healing begin.

 
   Relapse!! We all knew it was coming. There's always the fear of relapse, of never truly conquering one's demons. What a sad state for this once great man. Some kind soul offers some advice about watching football, and, is that other person making a racist comment?!

   So you're curious! (curious!) And that's marvelous (marvelous!) And that's you're reward: You're never bored!! If you're curious, like Curious George!

   Wait, is that Mick Jagger!? He's friends with Mick Jagger?! And Mick Jagger is taking the time to personally offer some words of wisdom, from experience?! That's amazing! This Grant guy must be really, super cool, because the above photo was clearly not doctored in any obvious way.
   But do you see what's happening!? Now people are abandoning him. He's become toxic. He can't be helped. What ever happened to commitment in marriage?! What ever happened to "For Better or For Worse?!" I am referring to the comic strip, which, it's like, what's up with that one?
 

   Did you know he writes a successful, hilarious blog?! You probably didn't. You should share it with all of your friends and like it and join and maybe send donations?! Wait, has this all been some publicity stunt?

   Ah, closure. The wife has returned and everything is okay. He's making amends with those he has harmed, which is a necessary step. And the wife offers her heartfelt sentiment that he never return to this dark time in his life. One person up-thumbs.

   23 people liked this!? 23!! That's more pageviews than I get in a day. Where were these people when I was falling apart?! Lost and insecure! Lying on the floor!! Where were you!? Why'd you have to wait!? Just a little late!!
   Ugh. As always, mom's the worst and I am on my own. No need to thank me, for getting our son through the day sick while you worked. I don't do it for the thanks. I do it for the reward of being miserable all day. That's all I need.

My mood: thinking about getting a drastic new haircut
Wy's mood: still not feeling great (sadface)
Listening to: Curious George and The Fray