Mother's Day 2013

   Wahoo!! Mothers are the best!! I think we can all agree that mothers are in fact the best. My baby Wyatt has a mom, her name is Cara and we spend all day telling her she's the best, even if it isn't Mother's Day (which, despite Cara's insistence, it turns out most days are not Mother's Day).

   So, I got Cara what any mother would want: Power Tools.

I guess I can't really call this "Power Tools" plural, when it's really Power Tool singular.

   That's right. It's the Ryobi 4-cycle gas engine string trimmer. It's even better than the Binford Gas Powered String Trimmer 2000 that was recently featured on Tool Time. The reason you can give your wife a power tool for Mother's Day is it's like saying "Here honey, I will do lots of yard work for a long time." Trust me, she'd like nothing better than for me to get her the attachment to my drill that lets me put recessed lighting in our ceiling. Well, that's not really true. She'd prefer it if I just paid someone to put lights in our living room and family room. And, over that she'd prefer a cruise somewhere. Let's not dwell on these things though because dad she got a gas powered weed whacker!
   Now I am ready to whack it up like crazy out in the yard.

Dodged A Bullet!!

(note: In case you aren't clear on this point: I'M NOT SERIOUS!!! LIKE, HARDLY EVER AM I BEING SERIOUS AND THIS IS A KEY EXAMPLE!!) 

Okay, I think we're in the clear. I feel safe to talk about this now that I don't think I can jinx it.

   I am so glad that Wyatt isn't a redhead.

*whew!* Not a lot of red in there!!

   Cara has kinda-red hair. It's not really red, and not as red as it was when she was younger, but it's there. I looooove redheaded girls (and thus felt a bit betrayed when I learned she was coloring her hair back when we started dating), but I just can't stand redheaded boys. I mean, can anyone? I think we're all in the same boat on this. Let's do a comparison:

My wife as a child holding up her little brother, Kip. Notice how
adorable she is and what a little punk he obviously must be.

   Red Headed Girls: sweet
   Red Headed Boys: the worst

   Red Headed Girls: cute
   Red Headed Boys: unathletic and awkward

   Red Headed Girls: charming
   Red Headed Boys: usually little brats

   Red Headed Girls: rare
   Red Headed Boys: need to be pushed further towards extinction.


   With Wy it was touch and go for a while there. He has a bit of red in his hair, but he is unequivocally blond at this point. For this I am thankful. If he ever does morph into a redhead, I will still love him almost as much, but it will be a challenge. My patience with him will be so much shorter, because whenever he does anything bratty I'll think "He's going to be this way forever because of that stupid hair," whereas when he behaves in a snotty manner with his hair this color, I'll just think it's cute and that he's entitled to it.
   Think about it. Do you know any redheaded boys that you are fond of?

My Wife Is The Best!!

This photo really has nothing to do with the following text.

   So it's 3:00. In the morning. My wife says to me "Go grab the baby." Her saying this wakes me up and, pretty much without thinking, I get up and start meandering to the baby's room. I didn't hear him cry or anything, but she usually is more sensitive to his crying at night. I've taken one step from the bed and she says something like "look out for the cleaner."
   Look out for the cleaner? I guess that makes sense. We'd rented a carpet cleaner that day and it was still in the house. Maybe there was something in the way? I don't know. Still, it's weird that Wyatt would need me so early in the morning, he'd been sleeping through the night lately. Something wasn't right.
   You know how, when you've just woken up and are all groggy, you can think like a million half-thoughts between each step? You have thoughts about your bearings and surroundings all while trying to decipher if the dreams you had were dreams or not? I was right there. Something wasn't right, but I wasn't yet awake enough to figure out what it was.
   Then she says, still laying in bed, "Make sure he gets through customs."


   ...


   Make sure he gets through customs?


   ...


   What? Ohgoshdangit she's asleep.


   SHE WOKE ME UP TO CHECK ON THE BABY IN HER SLEEP!!


   I promptly turned around and crawled back in bed, chuckling to myself while annoyed. I was starting to wake up and figured Cara must be dreaming she's on the run. Probably with Travis - you know, the one that got away. She and Travis and the baby were making their escape, looking out for the cleaning lady while trying to slip by customs. "Go grab the baby. Watch out for the cleaner. Make sure he gets through customs." It all makes sense. It all makes me sick.


   Sleep talking is one of Cara's more endearing traits. She did it quite often in our first couple years of marriage. Whenever she said something entertaining I would promptly go to the computer and write down whatever she said, so that I'd remember it the next morning. Then I'd usually email them to her old roommate, who also has great stories of Cara sleep talking. I have five recorded stories, but I don't want to write them all down right here, so I'll just share one encounter I had with sleeping Cara. Her words are regular, mine are in italics:

A Day With The Grandparents!!

   Were super fortunate in our household. Wyatt is surrounded by people that love him and want to play with him. While I've been hindered by the temporary loss of an arm, my mom and dad have been watching Wyatt more than usual. A few days ago he and I spent the whole day at their house!!


   Wyatt loves playing with his grandparents. With Grandpa, he tends to be much more grabby. Noses, glasses, eyeballs and shirts. Grandpa likes to make different sounds and poke different parts of Wy's belly.

 

     With grandma, the interactions are still playful, but of a much more cuddly variety. She's the one that changes diapers and clothes and feeds him and puts him to bed.

Wyatt's obviously never happy with his grandparents

   They watch a lot of Sesame Street, play with Beanie Babies and other toys, and take lots of naps. While I was over, I managed to get the cutest video since that baby panda sneezed:

   I like spending the day at my parents. They clean up Wyatt's sneezes, change his diapers, feed him, play with him, and offer me food - all while I sit on the couch. It's pretty great. I'll talk about Cara's parents someday, maybe when they stop talking about Travis. I get it. He makes more money, you liked him better. He probably has the use of both of his arms as well!! However, I doubt he has a killer blog like I do, that gets over twenty page views per post. Think about that.

My mood: I hate hearing my voice on camera!!
Wyatt's mood: wanting to climb on everything!!
Listening to: Mumford and Sons

Discipline

     As Wyatt has become more and more mobile, he's able to get himself into places we'd rather he not be. Into bathroom corners and the dishwasher and dirty laundry and near cans of uncapped spray paint are some classic examples, that I think all families deal with. His favorite naughty place is the outlet.

The object of Wyatt's affection

     The kid loves cords. He likes to wrap them around his body and neck and roll around and try to swallow the computer mouse. I encourage this behavior, because I think kids need to be free to explore and experience life without boundaries. I'm not some militant army dad!! My kid is going to like having me around to play with!!

     But then mom comes home. Can't you just hear her disapproval?! "Wyatt shouldn't be eating raw cookie dough!" she might shriek in her condescending tone, always judging me against Travis who her mom approved of. "Wyatt needs to know what the word "no" means!" Ok, lady, I get it.

     Cara seems to think that discipline should be consistent. Every time Wyatt goes near the outlet or starts to grab at it, we should say "no touch" (we don't just say "no," so that he knows specifically what we don't like, or something). After a couple "no touches," we give his hand a little spank and put him in his crib or something. I wasn't really listening because, as you just experienced, ohmygoshisitboring.

     Here's the thing about consistency: it establishes a system that can be manipulated. If Wyatt knows that every time he does something, there will be a specific and consistent response, he can learn how to twist those rules against us. Batman does that sort of thing all the time.

     Now, I didn't become a parent yesterday. I've been around the block more than once, just this morning. My better discipline philosophy can be summed up in one word: emotion based. I plan to discipline Wyatt based on how I am feeling at that given moment. So if Wyatt puts his face in the outlet, but I am watching 30 Rock, I don't care, no biggie. But if Wyatt looks at the outlets right after I stub my toe?! Spanking and no toys for an hour. If I am tired and he accidentally scratches me? Well, first of all, how do I really know it was an "accident"!? Exactly, I can't. He scratches me, fine, I'll scratch myself too. How does it feel to know that you caused me pain, and then caused me to cause myself pain?! I bet it feels pretty bad.

Oh, did you really want to watch The Dark Knight?! Is that why you grabbed that movie?! Well now we are going to watch Cinderalla, because we both hate it. Also, I'll post a blurry picture as punishment and not as an accident.

     I think the punishments, above all else, have to be random. Anything predictable can be predicted, and that's weakness. It's the same reason military personnel don't eat lunch at the same time every day. Keep the enemy guessing. Wyatt, are you not sharing with your cousin? I'm cutting down that tree! Did you lie to me about taking three more bites of vegetables? We are never going on vacay.

     My discipline philosophy is best summarized with the word "passive aggressive." I find confrontation causes pain and fear, and I don't want him to think of me as his prison warden. So, when he talks back to me for the first time, I don't plan to make a big deal about it. I'll just give all of his toys to charity. This accomplishes two things: teaching him a clear, valuable lesson AND educating him on the importance of being charitable.

He was placed in front of the outlet so I could get a good picture of his crime, but then I had to spank him because he was touching the outlet after I specifically said "no touch" a couple days ago. Parenting is hard.

     When your discipline structure is emotion based, random, and passive aggressive, your kid will never really know what is and isn't allowed. This gives you the upper hand. It teaches your kid not to experiment. He'll think to himself "I wonder if I clean my room without asking if I'll get in trouble?" which is exactly where  you want him to be.

     You might be wondering "why not put those child-safety covers on the outlets?" Because we're not wimps. That's why. Plus, I need to use like 5 outlets at a time (laptop, phone charge, Nitnendo DS charge, PS3 controller charge, ipod charge). I might be wondering why don't you mind your own business, but then I would remember that I am writing a blog for the world to see.

My mood: diabolical
Wyatt's mood: unaware
Listening to: U2 Rattle and Hum