The Keys of Parenting!!

   Guys, Wyatt is so cute!! Lately he's been hiding things and it's adorable and in no way disruptive. For example, I wasn't able to find my wallet for like two weeks. It turns out it was behind the shredder. Under a desk. Against a wall. Case solved!

This picture pretty much sums up our interactions lately. Thanks to Kaela Mey Photography.

   One day our remote was dead. I set it on the couch, figuring I'd change out the batteries once I found the strength to get up and walk over to the closet that might have the batteries. The next day, I noticed the remote wasn't in the living room at all. I asked Wyatt where the remote was. He said "I put it away because it doesn't work." I ask where he put it. He does something he does all the time: Put a finger on his chin, look off into the distance, and say "Hmmm, let me think," like he's young Sherlock Holmes or something. Don't get me wrong, he's smart enough to be Sherlock, just like his dad, but this is just a role he likes to play. He says, a few moments later "Oh! I know! It's under the couch!" He goes under the couch and grabs the remote, where it was safely stored because it was broken. "Here you go! I put it under the couch."

   He's the best.

   Well, it's been about 4 weeks, and I have no idea where my keys are. Like, none. I have torn the house to shreds, checked every drawer, box, cabinet, corner, and under every bed. I know they are in the house somewhere. Remember how bad Wyatt is at hide and seek? He's really good at Hide The Keys. Almost every day, I ask Wyatt if he knows where my keys are.
 
   Yesterday, when I inquired as to the location of my keys, he exclaims "I know!!" (I get excited). "Let me check my map!" (I groan). He grabs my hand and excitedly runs to the map of Africa in his room. Well, South Africa. Not the country, just, like, a map of not-all-of-Africa. It's the weirdest map. We got it for super cheap at an Oregon State University warehouse sale, when Cara was on a "let's decorate our house with maps of very specific geographical regions that we've never been to" kick. He runs to the map, points to a few places, and says "Here it is!" (Mopepi, Botswana). "Let's go there dad!" We then run to the Mopepi part of the house. It's not there.

This map of Central/Southern Africa hangs above Wyatt's bed. Crookedly, apparently. We're preparing him for that big geography test on the region that he'll take some day, hopefully.

    He says "Oh I need my finder machine." He runs to his DUPLOs and builds a finder machine. It is a bunch of bricks with a window on top, I think supposed to be like a magnifying glass. He says "This will help us find it! (Lincoln is totally enthralled and following us everywhere). "Finding machine says letter "e," Gad!" (He still calls me "Gad" and this will last forever).

Finder Machine 3.0

   If you're struggling to keep up, he built a finder machine that spits out letters. He built a weejee board. Because that's how you spell that.

   He asks "What's "e" start with?!" This is how he asks "What words start with the letter "e?"" I do a good job of parenting and say "KEYS." "Kuh-EEEEEEES." He says "Oh we need Yittle Red Car!" Little Red Car is his favorite car this hour. He grabs Little Red Car. It may or may not be a blue car. Little Red Car drives along the couch and does a few flips. I ask him where my keys are. He says "Wait dad, Yittle Red Car is still doing tricks."

   When the pretty-awesome tricks are done, I ask where my keys are. He decides we need help from "The Pups." The pups are his imaginary puppies that run everything in this household. I have to open the trunk when we hop in the car so they have space. Sometimes, one of them sits on my lap when we drive. Often, they need to be fed or rescued or are tired or are not tired or do something funny.
   The pups are no help. Keys are not found. Spare Keys are starting to become Only Keys.

Here's a picture of Lincoln in his Halloween costume. He was a dragon, Wyatt was a knight. Who didn't want to wear armor or have a shield or a helmet. Wyatt was a kid with a sword. Who had his mom hold the sword. Wyatt was a kid who got candy.

Although, from this angle, it sort of looks like Sarah from the purple dinosaur show. That was her name, right, Sarah? No I will not google this,

   The other day, Cara jokes and says "I am going to change the locks on the house while you are at work." I said "Actually, all you have to do is just lock the doors right now. I don't have any keys. You could even come home, walk past me on the porch, unlock the door, go inside, and lock the door. No need to waste our money on new locks." She considered this at length.

My mood: So very irritated (while waiting for Cara to come home and let me in)
Wyatt's mood: Excited about everything
Lincoln: Thinking hard about taking a step.
Cara's mood: Thinking hard about upgrading at husband.

Dancing Wyatt!!

Wyatt is holding his grandma's brush/mirror thing. He calls it "rocket" and pretends it's a rocket. Lincoln is very unhappy. Note: If you put the two of them together, you have a whole outfit!!

     Cara and I are losers. I need to make this very clear, from the start. Now, I know this comes as a shock to you, because you've been reading this blog for the last 18 years and have seen nothing but cool, cooler, and awesome, but it's true. One way that we are losers is that we have always thrown dance parties at our house, without inviting anyone. We'll turn off the lights, put on some kickin' Big Willie Style, and go nuts. When little Wyatt was a baby, we'd put him on the floor and dance around him. Sometimes we'd do this to African Dance music, other times we would sing our own dance music. Like, from our mouths. He liked it, but could also tell that we were losers and had fear in his eyes for his future social engagements.
   Well, it's caught on. This is one of my top 4 Wyatt videos, where you get to see what happens in our house nearly every day: (In case you were wondering, here are the other three)

     Oh gosh, where to begin?! Obviously, we begin with that shirt, amirite?! And that awesome somersault that wasn't! Did you see him not step on Lincoln?! Nice work, Wy! What about the fact that he was laying down to avoid going poop go to sleep, hears the music, and without any prompting, speaking, or indication of any kind, immediately stands up and starts dancing?! That's outrageous!! He does this all the time. He can be anywhere in the house, I'll turn on music, and he'll walk into the room, clean off the couch, and start dancing on the couch. Without saying a word. Ever. It's like the music takes control of him.
     I suppose the song I play tends to say "everybody, move your feet and rock your body," so maybe he is just following orders?
     He's not bad!! I noticed once that when he dances, it's all arms. No feet or hip involvement, just arms and spins, just like I taught him. So lately, during our dance parties, I've been working at using my feet a lot more, just to get him to move. But that gorilla thing he did at the beginning, that's all him.
   Cara isn't so much a dancer as she is a Marching Band Conductor. She pretty much just marches and moves one arm in the air, like its a baton and like she thinks she is wearing one of those top hats with the feather in it like the generals in my Stratego game.

   I know that Link hasn't gotten a lot of press around here lately, but he doesn't do anything. He eats a ton, is super happy all the time, loves his brother, and puts things in his mouth. He can scoot around the house pretty well, and is starting to stretch his vocal chords by making sounds like that of a velociraptor announcing it's ready to mate. But he's still pretty darn cute.

It says "Little Dude," not "Little Nude" or "Little Rude" or Little Vude." That last one doesn't even make sense.

There you have it folks. Come back soon for updates on our trip to Glacier National Park, Uncle Garrett's Wedding, and Wyatt's potty schedule.

My mood: glad to be free

Wy's mood: stress dancing

Link's mood: falling over a bit

Cara's mood: wants to sleep through the night

Listening to: Junior Senior

Hide And Seek!!

   Wyatt has been all about playing hide and seek lately.

   He's awful at it.

   Here he is hiding behind the curb:

Not sure if he's hiding, crying, praying, or counting. Either way, my parenting style is of the kind that says "quick go in the street but also hide so cars can't see you!!"

   I also have pictures of him hiding behind the world's thinnest tree, shortly after exclaiming "I'm going to go hide behind the tree, dad!!" Our games go a lot like this:

   After a few rounds of this, I told him to stop telling me where he's hiding. He'd respond with. "Oh. Sorry dad!! I'ma go hide behind the tree now."

   He only hid behind the curb, the tree, and his bike.

    When we play inside, it doesn't get much better. He's way more excited to have me find him than to actually hide well, but gets upset if I don't make enough of a game out of it. He did find this little gem of a corner, however:

This is honestly his best hiding spot ever. The blankets in the corner behind the couch. His tactic of saying "I'm here, dad!!" as I walk by is still less than ideal.

   Sometimes he hides in our hall walk-in closet. He likes it because there's a door. On this same, magical day of hide and seek, he decided to hide while I was feeding Lincoln. I realized he had been eerily quiet the whole time. I checked in on the closet, to find this:

He said "I'm feeding my animals." Yeah, Wyatt, because animals just love dry rice. Stupid.

   I wasn't really mad, I had never told him not to play with the rice. I let him keep the rice he already had, and put the bag away. When I finished, he performed the most devious act of his young life: He walked up to me with a rope. He wrapped it around my feet a couple times, then around a chair a couple of times. He said "You tied up now, dad! You can't move!!" Thinking he wasn't allowed to play with the rice, he tiptoed backwards, staring at me the whole time, towards the closet. "You can't move!!" He stepped into the closet, then poked his head out one last time. "You can't move, dad, you tied up!!"

   I don't think I've ever laughed so hard at something he's done, and I've seen him pee on his mom when he was a baby.

I let him play for a while. He eventually broke two of the glasses. Parenting is hard.

My mood: exhausted from finding the hider so often

Wyatt's mood: sad about the glasses and rice

Lincoln's mood: he was just chilling, watching Wyatt hide worse than a bike rider in traffic.

Cara's mood: needs sleep

Listening to: Blink 182

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

Baby Cow Mama!!

   As any good parent knows, it's helpful to get a child who is about to become an older sibling some sort of doll, so that they can show their affection towards the new baby and mimic the parents. All good parents do this.

   Cara is not a good parent. Recently, Wyatt took the initiative to adopt a baby cow, because someone who is Wyatt's mom gave him no baby human.

Blurry Baby Bump

   Wyatt is... an unorthodox parent. He loves his baby cow very much. He likes to take care of it when we are all sick, he likes to hang it upside down from the crane truck and laugh hysterically, and he likes to put it in his shirt to keep it ... warm? Safe? Or is that his womb? I don't know. He'll place it gently in a shopping cart to ride through the store, and he'll throw it across the table to get my attention.

Some of Wy's best parenting. There's a lot I could learn from this kid. Note
the koala comfortably driving. Note the still-terrifying "M-is-for-Monster."

   He wants to sing lots of baby cow songs to his baby cow. He doesn't know any baby cow songs. He'll ask me, over and over and over "Sing the baby cow mom song!!" So I'll make up a song about a baby cow mom. It goes like this "Baby cow mom, baby cow mom, this is the song of the baby cow mom," only the tune to it is way better than however you just heard it in your head.

   The problem, however, is I'm singing the wrong baby cow mom song. He gets very upset and whines at me that it's the wrong one, to sing the other one. Please remember, there is no actual baby cow mom song. Much like Atlas or Hercules or some Greek character I am not going to bother to look up, I am stuck pushing a boulder up a hill, and as soon as I am about to reach the top, the boulder starts screaming that I should push a different boulder that isn't real and sounds totally different. Xena? I am pretty sure that one is Xena.

   Wyatt likes to say that I am the baby cow's dad, he is the baby cow's mom, and the wolf is the baby cow's mom. I am terrified to ask what the wolf actually is, but otherwise I think this makes pretty good sense.

He really wanted to take some family photos, so here we go (wolf mom not pictured, because we are in a fight).

Wyatt really wanted his arm around me in this picture. And he REALLY wanted my knee to
 play a large role. He also thought Cara should be in it so she dangled some hair in the corner.

   Wyatt loves to put the baby cow between his legs, lightly shake it back and forth and say with great excitement "Baby Cow is hatching!!" You might think it's weird that he thinks a mammal is hatching, when that's only for spiders, but it makes sense. When we told Wyatt where babies come from, we made a cute little medley of the classic stories: The stork, some eggs hatching, God knitting in the mommy's belly, and any Twilight werewolf references that seemed to fit. The whole time, Wyatt was like "Why are you telling me this I never asked I'm barely three," so it worked out great.

   One day Wyatt will outgrow the baby cow. We are hoping it is tonight, because I had to steal it from him while he was sleeping to get that crane picture above, and now I have no idea where it is. But whenever that day comes, I feel like this is something we will forget all about in 10 years. That's the main reason I write this blog: To have lots of ammo to use against him when he is in his formative, highly embarrassable years.

My mood: very amused by all of this
Wyatt's mood: very paternal and maternal at the same time
Cara's mood: glad Link is sleeping better and feeding less frequently
Link's mood: starting to smile!!
Listening to: Andalucia by Pink Martini

Wyatt's Best Hero!!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Uncle Bear is Engaged AKA We Have A New Babysitter!!

Wyatt and Uncle Garrett. Wy calls him "Unk Bear," and here they are hunting Christmas Trees

   Well, America, we've been adding family members left and right and upside-down over here. First, Auntie Ashley got married to Kirk, which lead to the cutest set of pictures in the history of Western Civilization. Then our precious little Lincoln was born, which lead to the greatest picture ever taken in the history of instagram (scroll down a few). And now, my brother, Uncle Garrett is engaged!! To an actual girl this time!!

   We haven't talked about Garrett much over here at My Kid Is Special, because, well, he's never really done anything before. My fiancee-in-law is named Faith, and she is sure excited to watch my kids whenever I want, all the time, for free!! Here is a really, really good picture of her that proves she's real.

She's the girl on the left. Not the one holding her hair. The one in the black-and-white striped, old-timey prison uniform. No, not that one, the other one. The one who is looking at me like "When is the earliest I can kill you?!" She's super great, though.

   We like Faith because she's not afraid to scare the living coconuts out of small children.

This was Faith's rendition of "M is for Monster" and also sweet dreams Wyatt!!

   Seriously, that's messed up. You can see that Cara tried to add some pink and some hearts and rainbows and MyLittlePonies and stuff to make the whole "M-Is-For-Monster" thing a little less terrifying, but it wasn't too effective. And, it's not like we can take it down, that was Faith's first piece of art!! It belongs on the wall of letters!!

   Here's a picture Wyatt took himself, so we at least we can safely assume that it's not seeping into his pysche or anything and OHMYGOSHTHAT'STERRIFYING

Why would you even go with "M is for Monster" in the first place?!

   It comes as a part of our wall of the alphabet. When Wyatt walks by, we'll often ask him to name each letter. Look!!

   As our more astute readers have noticed, the letter "E" doesn't belong on the wall of letters. We were Entertaining some Energetic Elementary-aged kids and "E" was Eviscerated, so for now Wyatt reads "A, B, C, D, there should be an E here, F, G ..." only he doesn't actually do the part with the E. We don't think he is going to be too screwed up by this.

   Yes, you read that correctly. My ThrEE year old can say the letters up through N, gets read to almost every month, and likes to color and play with Play-Dough that we make ourselves. He likes to help make coffee, can't sing ANY songs, and only eats chocolate and cookies for food. It's pretty clear who the world's greatest parents are. In case it's not clear, it's me and also sometimes Cara.

   That isn't even all of the family art up in the house!! The big thing in the middle was done by yours truly. No, not truly. It was done by Cara, which is weird because it is so geometric which makes you think it's be done by me. The two on the right are some of Wyatt's adventures in water-painting (there are two more on the left, but I couldn't get them all in one shot without having horrible glare. And not in the cool Michael Bay ways).

Art on the walls by Cara and Wyatt. But don't feel bad for me, I have some art that is prominently on display in the trash can. If I were to be honest, that's where it belongs.

  Also here's a picture of our other special kid while sleeping.

Good skin day for Lincoln.

My mood: proud of my brother and a little concerned for his fiancee!!
Wyatt's mood: not wanting to eat anything
Lincoln's mood: wanting to only eat everything all the time
Cara's appetite: making lots of great food for us to eat and also lots of chicken nuggets and fries!!
Listening to: James Taylor

Bedtime Stories!!

Wyatt feeding Lincoln while ... prepping ... for the dentist?

   Guys, we're reading to Wyatt all the time. It's because we are truly superb parents. And, as absolutely wonderful as kids' books are, they can be absolutely awful.

   I am talking about plot, of course. Why, oh why, would any children's book ever try to have a plot?! When I sit down to read a story, I don't want there to be paragraphs, or developing characters, or feelings or anything. I want people hopping on pop and counting fish and eating moldy eggs. But when there is a farmer trying to make it to town and back, with obstacles and funny interactions, ugh. Too many words and pages and too much time. Whenever Wyatt wants to read something about Paddington, or even a thorough George, my heart sinks. I just want it to rhyme and move fast.

   I feel the same way about kids' shows. The less plot, the better. Wyatt has recently gotten back into Jake and the Neverland Pirates. (Funny story, I hope: Wyatt reconnected with the show because he had a dream about it. He has been telling us about his dreams, but it took us a while to figure out that's what was going on. "Dad, I was a could, and the cloud was James, and then, and then, and then I went to school and you were there and mom was not there and you were not there." It's super fun.) One day, after he came to me and said "Dad I watch Jake when I close my eyes!" I told him we weren't going to watch any Jake today. He go sad, but then went to his bed and closed his eyes and hoped to watch more. He was disappointed when it didn't work.

Cara eating Link's cheeks. A pretty common occurrence round these parts.

   Anyways, Jake initially didn't have any of that awful plot stuff. Sure, Jake and his puny pirate friends to save the treasure from Captain Hook and Smee, but the "treasure" was always things like "friendship" or "learning" or "vegetables." The show might've even tried to have some puzzles or counting exercises or something. But they gave up on that pretty quick, and the "treasure" was pretty much just "treasure" and they tried to have some of that stupid plot. They introduced new characters and had story lines that reoccurred and it was horrible. They even gave Captain Hook a mother, for crying out loud!! Now, I just recently saw Hook for the first time, and I can assure you that mothers in Neverland is NOT CANON.

   Plot is the worst. Sing a funny song that doesn't get stuck in my head, have good music and good voice acting, and get on with it. (On that note, you should try watching Justin Time). Still, Wyatt's new favorite thing is for me to be Captain Hook and him to be Jake. I chase him around the house with my finger curled like a hook, yelling things like "I'll get you Jake, if it's the last thing I do!!" or "Come back with me treasure, you puny pirates!!" or "Smee!!!!" or "Blast you, scurvy scallawags!!" or okay you caught me I really like this game.

My mood: not as sleepying as like as I'd much to be
Wyatt's mood: counting gold doubloons.
Lincoln's mood: might not like dairy that much:
Cara's mood: might have to not consume dairy that much (and no more happiness!!)
Listening to: the Friends theme song while watching Friends over and over.

Some Big Changes!!

   Well, guys, we are now a family of four. This means I've got street cred. No more do other parents see me and offer unsolicited adviceslashjudgement. None of this "Oh we only gave Bradley breast milk from Tibetan monks, but it's good you give your newborn so much Yoohoo..." because I am legit. Now, instead, parents look at me and nod with that grim look of admiration and "You're one of us now!!" with just a hint of "Darn he's handsome."

   So, yeah, there are some changes. As you've seen by now, I had my buddy Sean Lee whip up some new art to reflect my growing family. (If you'd like so see some of his work, it's found at http://shalbro.tumblr.com/tagged/original-art).

Not at all creepy, Wyatt!!

   The first place our family of four went was to the store to buy beer. This is not a lie. Wyatt really likes it!! That is a lie. Anyways, we showed up at Wal-Mart (holy crap the first time Lincoln left the house was to go to Wal-Mart to buy beer I should go to jail), and I thought "How... How do we do this?! There are two of them!! When Wy was born it took 11 bags and 45 pounds of gear to go anywhere, and now there are two of them!!" I am pretty sure that this is uncharted parenting territory, that we are the first to ever take two kids to the store at the same time. Pioneers.

   The real big change - apart from, you know, the new person in the world with us - is seeing the changes in Wyatt. We worked hard to make him excited about the new baby. Never blaming anything on him, always talking about how much fun they would have, even buying Wyatt presents from Lincoln. But when Link came, well, this was our first captured memory:

Link with his dad, Uncle Bear, Auntie Ashley, and brother Wyatt. 

   Wyatt didn't say a word to me, or anyone, when he first met his new brother. You have to understand, from the time we realized Link was coming, to the time he actually came, only a little over two hours passed. Wyatt went from hanging out at home with Ash, Mom and Dad, to having Ash take him to the hospital where a new person was out in the world.

   He was carried in by Ashley and was completely silent, still, and expressionless, except for his wide open eyes. I asked if he wanted to meet his brother ("No"), say hi to the baby ("No"), or kiss the baby (nothing). That was his first night.

   He spent the night with Ash, and asked if mom and the baby were okay all night. He was excited to come see us the next day, but was again overwhelmed by the new reality.

   But it didn't take long for him to warm up!! He spent the next few days asking about the baby, saying hi, wanting to pet and hold and kiss it, and say "Baby winkin" all the time. The best thing that happened was, of course, done by me: I meant to tell Wyatt "I have to go change your baby brother's diaper," but instead said "I have to go change your baby's diaper."

   He perked up at this, and had a huge, wondrous smile. "Oh!! It's my baby?"
I wasn't sure what to do. "Well, no, not really ... it ... um ..."
"It's not mom's baby it's my baby!"
"Sure, Wy, it's your baby."

   Since that moment, when Link was 4 days old, Wy has called him "my baby" ever since. "Daddy my baby's crying. Mommy, my baby's hungry." It is absurdly precious. He even wants us to go back to the hospital to pick up three more babies.

Wyatt's first time with mom and Lincoln. Dad's first time trying to manually focus a camera.

   (Quick little side story: Wyatt's biggest fear is being bored. When we are going to get in the car and run lots of errands, as we are climbing into the carseat he'll often exclaim "Oh no, I'm bout to be bored!!" with a lot of fear in his voice. So, when baby Link is crying, he'll say calmly "Baby sad," and when the baby is feeding or sleeping, he calmly says "Baby sleeping," but when Link is awake and still and quiet, this is when Wy freaks out. "Oh no, baby is getting bored!!" Also absurdly precious.

   In all honesty, before Lincoln was born, Wyatt was a good kid. But since he's become a big brother, he has become an outstanding kid. I mean it. He is obedient, helpful, happy, eager to do things for us, and loves to love his brother. We are going to have 12 more kids just to make him really perfect.

My mood: up all night, sleep all day
Wyatt's mood: fussy
Link's mood: sleeping a bit more at night
Cara's mood: wants to take a bath (we all want this)
Listening to: James Taylor, New Moon Shine  

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)"

Poop It Out, Little Man!!

This little guy loves leaves but bashes bathrooms. I am a good writer.

   Guys, here's the deal: Wyatt hates pooping. It is easily his least favorite thing about being a person. He hates it so much he'll postpone it as long has he can. I've talked about this a little, but let's really delve deep into the issues here.

   One of the best things about having a little kid is how freely and often you get to talk about these sorts of things. When you are in middle school or college and want to make fart jokes, there best not be an adult or mom around. But now?! Talking about a toddler?! It's all fair game again!!

This is the face Wyatt makes when we tell him he'll be happy if he just poops.
I love that I get to write the word "poop" so much.

   When Wyatt was a little baby, he had a couple of big hard poops. I had to help them out, actually, pinching through the diaper. This taught him that pooping is scary and painful and he has avoided it as much as he can. He holds it in. His record is 13 days. I am not kidding. It made local news as "Wyatt Watch 2014" and they had one of those graphic calendars that started counting on day 9. He spends days in constant motion, even just rocking side-to-side, because he knows once he stops moving he'll be in pain and need to poop. He doesn't like to poop.

   Which is crazy, right? If I were to ask you (which I would), I'd bet you'd list pooping as one of the best parts of your day, if you really stopped to think about it. Which you now are. Thinking about it. Gross. And little boys potty-train so easy. Wyatt LOVES going #1 outside. He rightly knows that is one of the best things about being a guy. We'll be 5 feet from the bathroom, he'll have to go pee, and scream "Wy go pee!" and run outside. One time at Costco he had to go, so we just dropped his shorts by some Arborvitae bushes that were for sale and let him go. Then we bought some other ones for our fence. Pee is no problems. Poo is the problem. (My lawyers are telling me that I should put in a disclaimer: That Costco story is not true. But one day, it will be.)

   We've given him laxatives and lots of juice, we've fed him the right foods and kept him moving. Nothing. So please don't call me with your advice for how to get a kid to poop. Call Cara. She loves that stuff.

Wyatt sleeping while watching George on the Kindle. He gets to play on Dad's iPad when he ... you know ... does that thing. When he doesn't he has to play on a Kindle like a sucker.

   Well, go back to September. Wyatt got a star-balloon for his birthday. It was a balloon in the shape of a star. He loved it and slept with it and took it everywhere and wouldn't let us help him hold it on walks. One day he and I were walking and it got caught on a light-pole and pulled out of his grasp. He yelled, I lunged for it, then scaled the light pole to the top, then jumped from the top to grab it. It was just beyond my reach. I fell softly to the ground with only a bird in my hand to show for my efforts. None of this is true except that he lost his balloon to a light-pole.

   He cried for days. And weeks later, he'd ask me to go driving around, looking for his star balloon. I mean, this was his first real loss, yknow?! Well, that and he's lost every time we've ever raced. But when he'd ask for a star-balloon, he knew in the back of his mind he could get a new one if he'd just go poop in the potty. (The whole "in the potty" part is quite critical, really.)

   I'd say "Wy, do you know how you can get a new star balloon?" He'd stop crying and pause, then sigh and say "Yeah, Wy poop in potty. Wy no want star balloon." His love of the balloon was outweighed by his fear of the poop. This was in the midst of his 13-day marathon.

   When he finally went, all tired and shaking and red and crying and scared, he sat on the potty traumatized. Then he stopped, got brief glimmer of hope in his eye, and weakly said "Star balloon?!"

   We've made a lot of progress since then. Now he goes about once every three or four days, no longer holds it in to the point he gets streaks in his underwear (wish he'd teach me this trick), and doesn't fight it and cry when the dirty deed is starting. We have hope that we can get this thing nailed down before New Wyatt comes in a month. That's the baby's name, we think. New Wyatt.

Wyatt and mom, both happy to have pooped. I mean... wait, what?

Wyatt's mood: bit of an earache *sadface*
My mood: can't wait for a 4-day weekend.
Cara's mood: "I was walking today and I thought the baby was just going to fall out."
Listening to: More Than Just A Dream like a million times.

Big House Project!!

   We lost a beloved member of our household last winter. Our 20+ year old pellet stove, that we'd been using for 20+ months finally died. Its burn pot cracked beyond repair. After much weeping and introspection, I hauled it out to the garage, and started to look for a replacement.

When you walked into our house, there was kind of this shrine to the ancient pellet stove. As it should be.

   The Wife really wanted a gas fireplace instead of another pellet stove. The Man Of The House wanted more of that hot, dry heat that the wood burning stove provided. After a long, thorough, spirited discussion, The Wife won. So not only did I have to get a new fireplace, I had a project to do.

   I've done little projects around the house. Flooring in the kitchen and bathrooms, building planter boxes in the yard, mounting a TV and hiding the cords in the wall, and helping Wyatt draw on the walls. These are all pretty simple and just require following some basic instructions. The project I had before me was a whole new beast. Luckily, it required cutting lots and lots of wood with fun saws.

He really wanted to play in the sawdust. For some reason, he really wanted his shirt off, too.

Mission Accomplished.

Now let's see how this sawdust tastes!

Ahh!!! Dad's running a saw!! I need to shut my eyes to completely keep the sound out!!

Oh good, dad's done. Dad's the best.

   The above pictures remind me of one of my favorite Wyatt moments ever. Whenever I was about to run a saw, I'd let him know and he'd try to hide from the noise. A couple times, as I was ready to turn the loud suckers on, I'd warn him and he'd run to a box of pellets and bury his head in them. He'd hide his head in the pellets until I was done cutting, then go about playing. This happened three times. I never got a picture of him ostriching, but sheesh it was cute.

   Speaking of "Sheesh that's cute," here's some videos of Wyatt helping us build, starting with his paint job:

   Here he does some critical measurements, and you get a good look at daddy's tramp-stamp (which - I'm pretty sure that's why you are here in the first place). Hurry! Watch it before my wife makes me take it down!

   Wyatt measuring things is really no surprise. This was taken back when he was just learning to walk (so, I don't know, he was maybe 9 days old?). It's from an early blog post, but I've gained like 8 new readers since then (up to 15!), so I'll share it again:

What a stud. Also, this picture was taken with what appears to be one of those cameras you make in a high school Intro To Photography class.

   And here's Wyatt working with Papa G.

   With all the construction and finish work done, it looks like this:

This isn't a DIY blog, so don't expect a bunch of perfect pictures of clean houses, okay. We still need to paint it, and by "we" I of course mean "not me." Painting is hard.

   If you look closely, you can see that the inner, decorative walls are falling over. We can't get them to stay up. I've tried Silly Putty and gum and even a whole roll of Scotch tape, but nothing works!! You'll notice we wasted absolutely no time cluttering that mantle shelf. And we still need to find the right picture to place in the white space above,. Probably an oil painting of me with my chin resting on my fist. That I'll paint myself. I'll be looking right at you as you come in to my house. Saying "I'm here and this is kind of creepy, so check yourself."

   I couldn't have done this project without my dad doing some last-minute electrical and wood cutting heroics, Cara's dad helping with all sorts of little things, and all the tools that both of those men have given me over the years or loaned me for this project. Thanks so much. I also couldn't have done it without Cara screaming at me "If you don't get this done I will throw all of your Nintendoses in the lake!" It was too bad that her pronunciation of "Nintendos" as "Nintendozzes" kind of ruined her moment, but she had a point. Although, in my defense, summers are for napping or playing and nothing more.

My mood: proud and relieved and also kinda gassy
Wyatt's mood: wanting me to play with him ALL THE TIME
Cara's mood: got bit by a spider, so, she's about ready to call the National Guard on our drive to the hospital.
Listening to: Sam Cooke