A few pictures from the trip:
==================
December 28, 2008
MAX to ZooDooLand
The Oregon Zoo tosses a bone to the po' folk on occasion, hosting a $2 Tuesday once each month. Seeing as I'd been cooped up in the house for way too long, I convinced Young Old and Aunt T to accompany me to gawk at some caged critters. As we headed west on the MAX towards the Rose Garden stop, I became increasingly excited about exposing Young Old to some animals of the non-stuffed variety for the first time (Frisco the Cat just doesn't count...she sleeps under the bed 98.7% of the day). The excitement was well warranted once we stepped foot into the Northwest habitat segment; Young Old couldn't take his eyes off the big black bear, the lazy cougars, and the obese salmon, cooing and waving his arms with unbridled joy. However, about 30 minutes into the excursion Young Old burst into tears, driving us into the nearby restaurant for a diaper change and a bottle, after which he fell fast asleep, not to awake until we had checked out the rest of the zoo and were well on our way home. Oh well, I guess you just can't hold onto expectations. Don't worry, Young Old, we'll be making a return trip soon.
A few pictures from the trip:
==================
A few pictures from the trip:
==================
December 27, 2008
I'm Tired So You Get Pictures Vol. 17
My apologies, folks. I've got family in town right now (seven!), so pictures for the next few days will have to suffice.
========================
Young Old and Aunt T beefing up their napping skills.
Auntie Squirt and GrandPops taking a break from stuffing their faces, to give Young Old some lovin'.
The Young One actually enjoys tummy time now, opting for smiles over screams.
Young Old and Mr. Blue Bear, deep in telepathic conversation.
You fill in the caption...
Young Old's been looking a little chunky lately, and since Mama K and I failed miserably at our "Post Move-in Diet," we thought we'd encourage him to give it a spin.
========================
Young Old and Aunt T beefing up their napping skills.
Auntie Squirt and GrandPops taking a break from stuffing their faces, to give Young Old some lovin'.
The Young One actually enjoys tummy time now, opting for smiles over screams.
Young Old and Mr. Blue Bear, deep in telepathic conversation.
You fill in the caption...
Young Old's been looking a little chunky lately, and since Mama K and I failed miserably at our "Post Move-in Diet," we thought we'd encourage him to give it a spin.
December 24, 2008
Holiday Cheer
Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, Joyous Kwanzaa, etc., from us to you.
"Thanks (Great) Auntie Mo, I love my stocking. Now can you guys please take me out of it and fill it with candy and gifts?"
"Thanks (Great) Auntie Mo, I love my stocking. Now can you guys please take me out of it and fill it with candy and gifts?"
December 23, 2008
December 22, 2008
Young Old, The Movie VII
Shaken, not stirred.
While Young Old is certainly enjoying himself, Mama K is far and away having the most fun here. Listen to that unbridled laughter...I love you, K.
While Young Old is certainly enjoying himself, Mama K is far and away having the most fun here. Listen to that unbridled laughter...I love you, K.
December 20, 2008
The Fam's Been Elfed
This is exceptionally nerdy, and the link is only good for a few weeks, but just thought you'd all get a roundhouse kick out of it.
Peep it:
http://elfyourself.jibjab.com/view/APrZSozlopbFkCeh6ief
Young Old's face is damn near priceless.
Peep it:
http://elfyourself.jibjab.com/view/APrZSozlopbFkCeh6ief
Young Old's face is damn near priceless.
December 19, 2008
Lunar Cycle No. 4
I've only now realized that I missed Young Old's third month photo post. Um...sorry?
At four months, Young Old has been hard at work developing his repertoire of cute moves guaranteed to create smiles from all the doting adults that ooh and aah at him around the clock. He's cackling like a witch, cooing like a pigeon, and has recently tossed the gurgling by the wayside, opting instead for a deep-throated monotone breath-grunt. Hooohn hooohn hooohn...ad nauseum. It's creepy, but cute. Holding his head up ain't no thing. He's not only grabbing onto whatever brushes his sweaty little fists, but he's been actively grabbing for anything in his field of vision. Young Old has graduated from simply listening to music (underground rap still being his tunage of choice) to now grabbing rattles and attempting to shake them to the beat. He can stand up, straight and steady, with minimal assistance, and awkwardly walks, zombie style, if you drag his feet along the ground. He's certainly recognizing faces, and seems to be developing preferences, mostly for me, of course. He can do push ups when doing his tummy time sessions, and endless crunches when on his back...we're still working on jump squats, which I think are only another week or two away. Just last night, he rolled over from his stomach to his back, then repeated the trick four more times. I guess no more leaving him unattended on top of the lit fireplace, right? Just kidding, Mom, I make sure the fire's out. He's feeding less often (but not by much), sleeping a little bit longer at night (but again, not by much), and has been shitting a good deal less often, but a good deal more when the urge strikes, sometimes going through three or four diapers...in succession. My Ma said I did the same thing as a babe...like father, like son. His fingernails grow close to an inch every other day; we're on untrimmed-week #7 and I think we'll soon be able to submit our measurement to the good old Guinness Book.
And that's pretty much it. He's as cute as the day he was born, but our love keeps growing. At first, it was all about love at first sight, but now, it's that kind of mature love that comes with invested energy, shared frustrations, and a growing attachment. This kid is the world to us, and my thanks go out to everyone who reads this blog for caring about the little guy, too.
Young Old says..."Whoooo ACKKKKK hruuuuuuuumgh eaaaaaaah." That means: "Where the titty at?"
Young Old at four months:
At four months, Young Old has been hard at work developing his repertoire of cute moves guaranteed to create smiles from all the doting adults that ooh and aah at him around the clock. He's cackling like a witch, cooing like a pigeon, and has recently tossed the gurgling by the wayside, opting instead for a deep-throated monotone breath-grunt. Hooohn hooohn hooohn...ad nauseum. It's creepy, but cute. Holding his head up ain't no thing. He's not only grabbing onto whatever brushes his sweaty little fists, but he's been actively grabbing for anything in his field of vision. Young Old has graduated from simply listening to music (underground rap still being his tunage of choice) to now grabbing rattles and attempting to shake them to the beat. He can stand up, straight and steady, with minimal assistance, and awkwardly walks, zombie style, if you drag his feet along the ground. He's certainly recognizing faces, and seems to be developing preferences, mostly for me, of course. He can do push ups when doing his tummy time sessions, and endless crunches when on his back...we're still working on jump squats, which I think are only another week or two away. Just last night, he rolled over from his stomach to his back, then repeated the trick four more times. I guess no more leaving him unattended on top of the lit fireplace, right? Just kidding, Mom, I make sure the fire's out. He's feeding less often (but not by much), sleeping a little bit longer at night (but again, not by much), and has been shitting a good deal less often, but a good deal more when the urge strikes, sometimes going through three or four diapers...in succession. My Ma said I did the same thing as a babe...like father, like son. His fingernails grow close to an inch every other day; we're on untrimmed-week #7 and I think we'll soon be able to submit our measurement to the good old Guinness Book.
And that's pretty much it. He's as cute as the day he was born, but our love keeps growing. At first, it was all about love at first sight, but now, it's that kind of mature love that comes with invested energy, shared frustrations, and a growing attachment. This kid is the world to us, and my thanks go out to everyone who reads this blog for caring about the little guy, too.
Young Old says..."Whoooo ACKKKKK hruuuuuuuumgh eaaaaaaah." That means: "Where the titty at?"
Young Old at four months:
December 18, 2008
A Day in the Life...Photos & Video
Keep in mind, these images of Young Old are well over a month old at this point, taken back when he was much less interesting. I kid, son.
=================
Young Old generally, and instantly, nods off into dreamland upon being strapped into his baby conveyor.
I can only imagine what the office worker looking out from inside this building is thinking. "What a couple of geeks!"
Young Old hanging out in the Square all by his lonesome.
"Um, Dad. This is fucked up. Can I please have my bottle now?"
The Boy loves riding the MAX train...not sure whether it's the vibrations, sights, smells or sounds, but I'm sure the crazies on board have something to do with it.
A few videos. Young Old soaking up drum beats. Young Old riding over the Steel Bridge.
=================
Young Old generally, and instantly, nods off into dreamland upon being strapped into his baby conveyor.
I can only imagine what the office worker looking out from inside this building is thinking. "What a couple of geeks!"
Young Old hanging out in the Square all by his lonesome.
"Um, Dad. This is fucked up. Can I please have my bottle now?"
The Boy loves riding the MAX train...not sure whether it's the vibrations, sights, smells or sounds, but I'm sure the crazies on board have something to do with it.
A few videos. Young Old soaking up drum beats. Young Old riding over the Steel Bridge.
December 17, 2008
A Day in the Life
Wiping up the accumulated nine inches of vomit from the computer desk today, I discovered a stack of damp and moldy notes from well over a month ago, in which I detailed to the minute a day in the life of Young Old and Papa Old, to give folks a little flavor of just what this whole experience is like.
This will likely be completely uninteresting to most of you, but for the OCD, anal-retentive, and borderline autistic crowd, enjoy.
Pictures to follow tomorrow.
--------------------------
1:50am - Finally able to go to bed.
4:30am - Up for diaper change.
6:30am - Grumbled a goodbye to Mama K on her way out for work.
8:00am - Young Old up, Insta-Scream style. Ran downstairs and warmed up a bottle.
8:10am - Diaper change. Listened to Quasimoto...screaming quelled.
8:15am - Fed Young Old his bottle.
8:17am - Young Old takes massive dump.
8:18am - Massive cleanup. Listened to DJ Honda Mixtape.
8:30am - Resumed feeding. Burped. Vomited. Cleaned up.
8:45am - Young Old asleep. Whew.
8:47am - Jumped in the shower.
9:15am - Began packing up the house for the move.
9:45am - Started making a spot of tea and a crumpet or two.
9:47am - Young Old awake and grunting.
9:50am - Sat Young Old in his baby bouncy bubble music chair.
10:00am - Young Old back pacified with his, um, pacifier. Asleep.
10:05am - Resumed packing.
10:30am - Remembered now cold tea and burned crumpets.
10:32am - Scrapped off crumpets and choked them down with the iced tea while catching up on the newspaper.
10:45am - Young Old awake. Played (i.e. I danced around like a fool, made odd faces, busted out the lip music, poked and prodded him). Sung songs. Listened to the radio.
10:55am - Prepared the laundry.
11:05am - Did the dishes.
11:06am - Young Old decides to cry.
11:07am - Diaper change and music.
11:15am - Organized baby bag, unfolded the stroller and installed a coffee cup holder on said stroller.
11:25am - Diaper change.
11:30am - Warmed up a bottle for Young Old and some pizza for myself. Young Old begins to scream.
11:35am - Fed The Boy. Burped. Vomited. Back rub.
11:50am - Diaper change. Bundled Young Old up.
12:00pm - Snuggled with Young Old on the bed while he fussed grumpily from the previous day's vaccine shot.
12:18pm - Young Old asleep.
12:20pm - Got ready for the day's excursion.
12:35pm - Swooped up Young Old, put him in the stroller, draped with bottle bag, and baby bag. I carried backpack full of books, and black plastic bag of clothes to sell. Out the door.
12:45am - Hit up the Post Office.
1:00pm - Boarded the train towards downtown.
1:20pm - Stopped by Red Light Clothing to sell off the bag of clothes. Apparently Mama K and I aren't hip enough, seeing as they didn't take a single item. Punk music woke up Young Old, but in a good way, oi.
1:30pm - Stopped by Buffalo Exchange, who also sneered at the clothes I laid out before them. Threw the whole lot in their donation box to offload some weight.
1:35pm - Stopped by Powell's Books to sell my backpack full of previously read novels. Apparently my good tastes lie more in the literary realm, as they purchased everything I'd offered. Young Old loves the sights and sounds of Powell's. I swear he's making mental lists of books he'd like to read when he learns how to do so.
1:45pm - Stopped at the Ace Hotel's Stumptown Coffee for a latte. Chatted with the barista about being a stay-at-home pops. Young Old back asleep, likely due to the boring hipster noise coming out of the speakers. Wandered around the hotel lobby for a few minutes.
1:55pm - Titos II food cart for tacos al pastor and cidral mundet.
2:15pm - Young Old up and screaming. Strolled over to Pioneer Courthouse Square for a flat surface.
2:20pm - Diaper change.
2:25pm - Fed the little man a bottle.
2:45pm - Hung out and people watched with we both digested.
2:55pm - Paused on our way back to the train to listen to a street drummer. Young Old enthralled.
3:00pm - Caught the train back to the eastside.
3:15pm - Off the train.
3:30pm- Home.
3:45pm - Young Old asleep. Caught up on emails from four months ago.
4:20pm - Mama K home. Young Old awake and smiling.
4:30pm - Diaper change. Changed him out of his vomit encrusted former outfit.
4:40pm - The three of us out the door, squeezing into the car for errands.
4:45pm - Stuck in serious traffic.
4:47pm - Called baby store to ask if they could wait to close up for a few minutes until we arrived.
5:03pm - Arrived at Mother's Nature for a new natural rubber pacifier, a wooden teething ring, and new burp cloths (new parents...make sure you stock up on dozens of these fuckers. You'll use every one of them).
5:15pm - Walked across the street to Piccolina's. Placed a few of Young Old's gently used items on consignment, picked up our credit from previous sales, and purchased a few new cold weather outfits.
6:00pm - Walked to Sub Rosa for a nice dinner with Mama K and the now sleeping Young Old.
6:15pm - Young Old awake. Mama K took him to the car to change and feed him, leaving me with my first bit of alone time since waking up.
6:30pm - Glanced outside to see Mama K walking back towards the restaurant holding a screaming baby.
6:35pm - All of us back inside. Fed Mama K food while she continued to comfort Young Old.
6:37pm - Young Old screaming. My turn to take him outside. Walked around the block a time or two.
6:42pm - Back inside. Briefly nibbled now-cold food.
6:43pm - Young Old screaming. Check please!
6:50pm - Back in the car to head home.
7:05pm - Stopped by Goodwill to make a donation drop off.
7:07pm - Home sweet home.
7:10pm - Mama K changed Young Old's drawers, while I unloaded the car and cleaned up a bit.
7:20pm - Young Old playtime.
7:50pm - Mama K titty fed the Guppy. I continued to pack up our belongings.
8:10pm - Mama K tackled the dishes. I gave Frisco the Neglected Cat dinner and some much needed playtime.
8:17pm - Young Old screaming. Took him from Mama K to rock and soothe him.
8:26pm - Saw that I never got the laundry in. Mama K took over and finally got Young Old to sleep. Started the laundry.
8:45pm - Read Mama K her emails while she prepared for work the next day.
9:15pm - Sat on the couch with Mama K, ate ice cream sandwiches, and did nothing.
9:25pm - Mama K to bed.
9:30pm - Laundry.
9:40pm - Wrote the day's From Old to Young blog entry.
10:20pm - Began writing a submission for a local Portland storybook.
11:00pm - Finished up the laundry.
11:10pm - Sat down to watch Le Boucher.
11:12pm - Mama K yelled down to me that Young Old was awake.
11:13pm - Began warming up a bottle. Diaper change.
11:20pm - Fed Young Old. Burped. Vomited. Wiped clean (-ish).
11:50pm - Laid Young Old down on the couch. Young Old asleep.
12:00am - Gave up on watching a movie. Resumed packing.
12:40am - Young Old up and fussy. Rocked and snuggled him to sleep.
12:45am - Watched a bit of Oregon Public Broadcasting.
2:00am - Young Old up. Diaper change. Put him back to sleep.
2:15am - Finally dragged my tired ass into bed and did the same.
(Several diaper changes followed. Up again at 7:00am the next morning for another day of fun.)
No matter what you read, or the advice people give you, nothing, nothing, prepares you for the sheer amount of work involved in caring for a baby. It's absolutely worth it, but prepare to be more tired to the very core of your being than you could previously possibly imagine.
Nap time for Daddy.
This will likely be completely uninteresting to most of you, but for the OCD, anal-retentive, and borderline autistic crowd, enjoy.
Pictures to follow tomorrow.
--------------------------
1:50am - Finally able to go to bed.
4:30am - Up for diaper change.
6:30am - Grumbled a goodbye to Mama K on her way out for work.
8:00am - Young Old up, Insta-Scream style. Ran downstairs and warmed up a bottle.
8:10am - Diaper change. Listened to Quasimoto...screaming quelled.
8:15am - Fed Young Old his bottle.
8:17am - Young Old takes massive dump.
8:18am - Massive cleanup. Listened to DJ Honda Mixtape.
8:30am - Resumed feeding. Burped. Vomited. Cleaned up.
8:45am - Young Old asleep. Whew.
8:47am - Jumped in the shower.
9:15am - Began packing up the house for the move.
9:45am - Started making a spot of tea and a crumpet or two.
9:47am - Young Old awake and grunting.
9:50am - Sat Young Old in his baby bouncy bubble music chair.
10:00am - Young Old back pacified with his, um, pacifier. Asleep.
10:05am - Resumed packing.
10:30am - Remembered now cold tea and burned crumpets.
10:32am - Scrapped off crumpets and choked them down with the iced tea while catching up on the newspaper.
10:45am - Young Old awake. Played (i.e. I danced around like a fool, made odd faces, busted out the lip music, poked and prodded him). Sung songs. Listened to the radio.
10:55am - Prepared the laundry.
11:05am - Did the dishes.
11:06am - Young Old decides to cry.
11:07am - Diaper change and music.
11:15am - Organized baby bag, unfolded the stroller and installed a coffee cup holder on said stroller.
11:25am - Diaper change.
11:30am - Warmed up a bottle for Young Old and some pizza for myself. Young Old begins to scream.
11:35am - Fed The Boy. Burped. Vomited. Back rub.
11:50am - Diaper change. Bundled Young Old up.
12:00pm - Snuggled with Young Old on the bed while he fussed grumpily from the previous day's vaccine shot.
12:18pm - Young Old asleep.
12:20pm - Got ready for the day's excursion.
12:35pm - Swooped up Young Old, put him in the stroller, draped with bottle bag, and baby bag. I carried backpack full of books, and black plastic bag of clothes to sell. Out the door.
12:45am - Hit up the Post Office.
1:00pm - Boarded the train towards downtown.
1:20pm - Stopped by Red Light Clothing to sell off the bag of clothes. Apparently Mama K and I aren't hip enough, seeing as they didn't take a single item. Punk music woke up Young Old, but in a good way, oi.
1:30pm - Stopped by Buffalo Exchange, who also sneered at the clothes I laid out before them. Threw the whole lot in their donation box to offload some weight.
1:35pm - Stopped by Powell's Books to sell my backpack full of previously read novels. Apparently my good tastes lie more in the literary realm, as they purchased everything I'd offered. Young Old loves the sights and sounds of Powell's. I swear he's making mental lists of books he'd like to read when he learns how to do so.
1:45pm - Stopped at the Ace Hotel's Stumptown Coffee for a latte. Chatted with the barista about being a stay-at-home pops. Young Old back asleep, likely due to the boring hipster noise coming out of the speakers. Wandered around the hotel lobby for a few minutes.
1:55pm - Titos II food cart for tacos al pastor and cidral mundet.
2:15pm - Young Old up and screaming. Strolled over to Pioneer Courthouse Square for a flat surface.
2:20pm - Diaper change.
2:25pm - Fed the little man a bottle.
2:45pm - Hung out and people watched with we both digested.
2:55pm - Paused on our way back to the train to listen to a street drummer. Young Old enthralled.
3:00pm - Caught the train back to the eastside.
3:15pm - Off the train.
3:30pm- Home.
3:45pm - Young Old asleep. Caught up on emails from four months ago.
4:20pm - Mama K home. Young Old awake and smiling.
4:30pm - Diaper change. Changed him out of his vomit encrusted former outfit.
4:40pm - The three of us out the door, squeezing into the car for errands.
4:45pm - Stuck in serious traffic.
4:47pm - Called baby store to ask if they could wait to close up for a few minutes until we arrived.
5:03pm - Arrived at Mother's Nature for a new natural rubber pacifier, a wooden teething ring, and new burp cloths (new parents...make sure you stock up on dozens of these fuckers. You'll use every one of them).
5:15pm - Walked across the street to Piccolina's. Placed a few of Young Old's gently used items on consignment, picked up our credit from previous sales, and purchased a few new cold weather outfits.
6:00pm - Walked to Sub Rosa for a nice dinner with Mama K and the now sleeping Young Old.
6:15pm - Young Old awake. Mama K took him to the car to change and feed him, leaving me with my first bit of alone time since waking up.
6:30pm - Glanced outside to see Mama K walking back towards the restaurant holding a screaming baby.
6:35pm - All of us back inside. Fed Mama K food while she continued to comfort Young Old.
6:37pm - Young Old screaming. My turn to take him outside. Walked around the block a time or two.
6:42pm - Back inside. Briefly nibbled now-cold food.
6:43pm - Young Old screaming. Check please!
6:50pm - Back in the car to head home.
7:05pm - Stopped by Goodwill to make a donation drop off.
7:07pm - Home sweet home.
7:10pm - Mama K changed Young Old's drawers, while I unloaded the car and cleaned up a bit.
7:20pm - Young Old playtime.
7:50pm - Mama K titty fed the Guppy. I continued to pack up our belongings.
8:10pm - Mama K tackled the dishes. I gave Frisco the Neglected Cat dinner and some much needed playtime.
8:17pm - Young Old screaming. Took him from Mama K to rock and soothe him.
8:26pm - Saw that I never got the laundry in. Mama K took over and finally got Young Old to sleep. Started the laundry.
8:45pm - Read Mama K her emails while she prepared for work the next day.
9:15pm - Sat on the couch with Mama K, ate ice cream sandwiches, and did nothing.
9:25pm - Mama K to bed.
9:30pm - Laundry.
9:40pm - Wrote the day's From Old to Young blog entry.
10:20pm - Began writing a submission for a local Portland storybook.
11:00pm - Finished up the laundry.
11:10pm - Sat down to watch Le Boucher.
11:12pm - Mama K yelled down to me that Young Old was awake.
11:13pm - Began warming up a bottle. Diaper change.
11:20pm - Fed Young Old. Burped. Vomited. Wiped clean (-ish).
11:50pm - Laid Young Old down on the couch. Young Old asleep.
12:00am - Gave up on watching a movie. Resumed packing.
12:40am - Young Old up and fussy. Rocked and snuggled him to sleep.
12:45am - Watched a bit of Oregon Public Broadcasting.
2:00am - Young Old up. Diaper change. Put him back to sleep.
2:15am - Finally dragged my tired ass into bed and did the same.
(Several diaper changes followed. Up again at 7:00am the next morning for another day of fun.)
No matter what you read, or the advice people give you, nothing, nothing, prepares you for the sheer amount of work involved in caring for a baby. It's absolutely worth it, but prepare to be more tired to the very core of your being than you could previously possibly imagine.
Nap time for Daddy.
December 15, 2008
Young Old in The Oregonian
A month or so ago, our local daily, The Oregonian, ran an article about tax abatement programs in Portland. I know, fucking snore snore. Having just purchased our home from the local not-for-profit housing company HOST (Home-Ownership One Street at a Time), which came with a 10-year reduction of property taxes, the journalist contacted me for his story and asked if we wanted to have our pictures taken for the newspaper. Hell yes.
Peep Young Old, already famous and not even a year old:
That's not our actual house, but the model home for the development. I'd post the link to the article, but I'm falling asleep just thinking about it, so I'll be skipping it to save you the mental boredom. You're welcome.
Peep Young Old, already famous and not even a year old:
That's not our actual house, but the model home for the development. I'd post the link to the article, but I'm falling asleep just thinking about it, so I'll be skipping it to save you the mental boredom. You're welcome.
December 13, 2008
December 11, 2008
I'm Tired So You Get Pictures Vol. 16
Sooooo...you gonna pull out that titty, or what?
Hey folks, whatcha doing?
Young Old relaxing with Grandma A at Auntie Ren's salon in Seattle.
The cheering section for Auntie Ren at her post-Thanksgiving marathon.
The Boy in the Bubble. It's supposed to keep the rain off the tadpole, but it just creeps me out. I just don't want to have that whole "Sorry, Son. I was only trying to keep you dry and didn't realize the lack of oxygen would eventually shave 76 points off of your IQ" conversation.
For some reason, this picture makes me want to shed a tear or two. He just looks so soul-weary and sad for humanity. Sniff...
Despite full knowledge of Young Old's vomit issues, Mama K opts to play with fire.
Heeere's Joooohnny! Mental note, keep Young Old away from the Timberline Lodge.
Hey folks, whatcha doing?
Young Old relaxing with Grandma A at Auntie Ren's salon in Seattle.
The cheering section for Auntie Ren at her post-Thanksgiving marathon.
The Boy in the Bubble. It's supposed to keep the rain off the tadpole, but it just creeps me out. I just don't want to have that whole "Sorry, Son. I was only trying to keep you dry and didn't realize the lack of oxygen would eventually shave 76 points off of your IQ" conversation.
For some reason, this picture makes me want to shed a tear or two. He just looks so soul-weary and sad for humanity. Sniff...
Despite full knowledge of Young Old's vomit issues, Mama K opts to play with fire.
Heeere's Joooohnny! Mental note, keep Young Old away from the Timberline Lodge.
December 10, 2008
Young Old's First Turkey Day
I'm drooling all over again. Young Old never stopped.
We broke in the pad with a wild bunch of nine (well, ten including the babe). Seen here: Auntie Ren, Grandma A, Great Aunt B, and GrandPops.
Continuing around the room: Uncle Railroad, Auntie Squirt, and some baboon in the rear. Mama K and AuntT are lurking elsewhere.
Post-feast games and beer. An unfuckwittable combination. Young Old didn't do so hot at Scattergories, probably because he didn't play.
Young Old went a little nuts with the cider, forcing Mama K to hook him up with some much needed burp time.
Even when everyone started dropping like flies, my boy was still knocking back drumsticks.
Spoke...too...soon...too...much...tryptophaZzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz...
We broke in the pad with a wild bunch of nine (well, ten including the babe). Seen here: Auntie Ren, Grandma A, Great Aunt B, and GrandPops.
Continuing around the room: Uncle Railroad, Auntie Squirt, and some baboon in the rear. Mama K and AuntT are lurking elsewhere.
Post-feast games and beer. An unfuckwittable combination. Young Old didn't do so hot at Scattergories, probably because he didn't play.
Young Old went a little nuts with the cider, forcing Mama K to hook him up with some much needed burp time.
Even when everyone started dropping like flies, my boy was still knocking back drumsticks.
Spoke...too...soon...too...much...tryptophaZzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz...
December 9, 2008
The Stress Reliever
Regarding yesterday...
A look like this certainly helps to melt away any and all frustrations.
Thanks for being so patient with me, Young Bud.
A look like this certainly helps to melt away any and all frustrations.
Thanks for being so patient with me, Young Bud.
December 8, 2008
Absentia
Though I'm sure you're all more than a little tired of the frequent bouts of ill communication on my part, believe me, the lack of postings hurts me more than it hurts you.
You see, things have been rough lately in DaDaLand. Don't get me wrong, I'm still loving this experience of loving Young Old, this watching and influencing the growth of a human soul. It's a powerful thing.
But more and more often, ever since the move and the onset of the holiday season, I've been finding myself stretched ever more thinly. My man Bilbo Baggins mentioned something about too little butter over too much bread, or something to that tune. It seems that wherever I look, there's another task to be done around the house to make it more livable; whether it's hanging up that painting, unpacking that last few boxes that have lain dormant in the middle of our bedroom for the last four weeks, hooking up phone service, etc. it all needs doing. Errands and chores stack up on lists a lifetime long. Young Old trumps all that, right? I guess...that is until the black fungus rising up from the bowels of our toilet begins to get frisky, forcing The Boy to fend for himself for a few minutes. Fine, no big deal. The problem arises when all these bits of life catch up to me, and I'm forced to leave him to his own designs for an hour or two at a time. That's when the guilt sets in, the "I'm a bad father" or "I'm neglecting my son" routine.
I'm not sure where I'm going with this. The fact of the matter is, this parenting thing, let alone this stay-at-home-pops act, is the single most difficult challenge I've yet faced in my twenty-eight years. For one thing, it's made me realize how much alone time I've needed in the past to sustain and nurture my own being, and how that sort of time is now fleeting, at best. As I mentioned earlier, meals and hygiene have taken a back seat to caring for the Young One, and old pastimes like reading and writing have become distant memories. These days, I'm not even sure what it feels like to hang out with a friend, irresponsibly free.
I know things will get easier when we've completed the transition to a new household and once the holidays, with all of their obligations and time commitments, have passed. Right now, though, the days feel needlessly complex and stress-filled, and not just on my end. Mama K has been struggling with not seeing Young Old much during the work week, let alone spending much time alone or with friends. We've had a few long talks about how our roles in the relationship have changed, and how we both feel like we're at opposite sides of the fence, both jealous of one another's chosen pasture. It's a sad feeling for the both of us, and one we've only now begun to reconcile and come to terms with.
Despite all these frustrations, we both want to let you know that we love you dearly, Young Old, and we hold no grudges. You are joy incarnate. Your delight in the world and in us is the sustenance that gives us life and strengthens our will to do right by you, to raise you as well as we know how.
We just need to find out how to not lose ourselves in the process, for all our sakes.
You see, things have been rough lately in DaDaLand. Don't get me wrong, I'm still loving this experience of loving Young Old, this watching and influencing the growth of a human soul. It's a powerful thing.
But more and more often, ever since the move and the onset of the holiday season, I've been finding myself stretched ever more thinly. My man Bilbo Baggins mentioned something about too little butter over too much bread, or something to that tune. It seems that wherever I look, there's another task to be done around the house to make it more livable; whether it's hanging up that painting, unpacking that last few boxes that have lain dormant in the middle of our bedroom for the last four weeks, hooking up phone service, etc. it all needs doing. Errands and chores stack up on lists a lifetime long. Young Old trumps all that, right? I guess...that is until the black fungus rising up from the bowels of our toilet begins to get frisky, forcing The Boy to fend for himself for a few minutes. Fine, no big deal. The problem arises when all these bits of life catch up to me, and I'm forced to leave him to his own designs for an hour or two at a time. That's when the guilt sets in, the "I'm a bad father" or "I'm neglecting my son" routine.
I'm not sure where I'm going with this. The fact of the matter is, this parenting thing, let alone this stay-at-home-pops act, is the single most difficult challenge I've yet faced in my twenty-eight years. For one thing, it's made me realize how much alone time I've needed in the past to sustain and nurture my own being, and how that sort of time is now fleeting, at best. As I mentioned earlier, meals and hygiene have taken a back seat to caring for the Young One, and old pastimes like reading and writing have become distant memories. These days, I'm not even sure what it feels like to hang out with a friend, irresponsibly free.
I know things will get easier when we've completed the transition to a new household and once the holidays, with all of their obligations and time commitments, have passed. Right now, though, the days feel needlessly complex and stress-filled, and not just on my end. Mama K has been struggling with not seeing Young Old much during the work week, let alone spending much time alone or with friends. We've had a few long talks about how our roles in the relationship have changed, and how we both feel like we're at opposite sides of the fence, both jealous of one another's chosen pasture. It's a sad feeling for the both of us, and one we've only now begun to reconcile and come to terms with.
Despite all these frustrations, we both want to let you know that we love you dearly, Young Old, and we hold no grudges. You are joy incarnate. Your delight in the world and in us is the sustenance that gives us life and strengthens our will to do right by you, to raise you as well as we know how.
We just need to find out how to not lose ourselves in the process, for all our sakes.
December 4, 2008
I'm Tired So You Get Pictures Vol. 15
The last few flicks from our current batch. More interesting shit to follow soon.
That is, if I'm not too tired. Young Old's had mega-gas issues lately, keeping him up all night, due to some completely awesome Mexican food Mama K recently ingested at our local taco truck (two blocks away, in a gas station parking lot. I love our new neighborhood), which, due to the magical wonders of her stomach contents affecting her breast milk, has Young Old practically begging for relief from the near-constant barrage of butt blasts.
His first words came today: "Helloooo. How 'bout some Beano over here."
==================
Strolling around in the new 'hood.
Aunt T and Young Old posing in front of our home. It's actually really nice inside.
Not an especially cute picture of the little bugger, but our sponsor requires that we get in a product placement shot once in a while. When diaper rash comes a knockin', choosy babies choose Boudreaux's! Number One in the Butt Business...Boudreaux's Butt Paste! [Sell out. -Ed.]
While most people watch TV after work, we mostly hang out as a family and cultivate our narcissism.
That is, if I'm not too tired. Young Old's had mega-gas issues lately, keeping him up all night, due to some completely awesome Mexican food Mama K recently ingested at our local taco truck (two blocks away, in a gas station parking lot. I love our new neighborhood), which, due to the magical wonders of her stomach contents affecting her breast milk, has Young Old practically begging for relief from the near-constant barrage of butt blasts.
His first words came today: "Helloooo. How 'bout some Beano over here."
==================
Strolling around in the new 'hood.
Aunt T and Young Old posing in front of our home. It's actually really nice inside.
Not an especially cute picture of the little bugger, but our sponsor requires that we get in a product placement shot once in a while. When diaper rash comes a knockin', choosy babies choose Boudreaux's! Number One in the Butt Business...Boudreaux's Butt Paste! [Sell out. -Ed.]
While most people watch TV after work, we mostly hang out as a family and cultivate our narcissism.
December 3, 2008
Announcing: Young Old
Yes, yes, a few months too late, but hell, thought I'd share these birth announcements our dear friend Porksie created a while back for us. No, we haven't sent them out to anyone, and at this point, not sure we'll even get around to it. As you can see, we're a little behind in the "Get Shit Done" department. Life just has a way of slipping past you once a little one joins the party. I used to pride myself on being on top of bills, appointments, errands, chores, paperwork, anniversaries, birthdays...the responsibilities of an adult. Now I'm lucky if I eat my first meal before 2:00pm or take a shower before I collapse into bed for the night (if one is to be taken at all).
Well.
=============
Hey everyone, we had a baby! Here's your announcement(s)!
Thanks, Pork. They're beautiful.
Well.
=============
Hey everyone, we had a baby! Here's your announcement(s)!
Thanks, Pork. They're beautiful.
December 1, 2008
I'm Tired So You Get Pictures Vol. 14
You know the drill...
===============
Our first day in the new home, and all I could think about was putting Young Old to sleep so I could get to unpacking. Mission Accomplished.
God help us if you ever see this photo, my son. Yes, you are terrifyingly adorable, sitting up in your chair with that cute baby look on your face. And yes, unfortunately, you are still wearing that god-awful pumpkin outfit well beyond the 24-hour holiday period you agreed to. I am so, so, sorry, my man. Let's just blame it on mommy, okay?
The Boys enjoying a lazy Sunday morning, taking the chill off and catching up on the news over a warm cup o' joe.
Is it just me, or could Young Old fit inside Mama K's face? That's awesome.
Teasing Young Old is hilariously, especially when he's hooked into his Krang cart and is unable to exact revenge.
Young Old the Mall Rat lazily conversing over a steaming cafe au lait maternel.
===============
Our first day in the new home, and all I could think about was putting Young Old to sleep so I could get to unpacking. Mission Accomplished.
God help us if you ever see this photo, my son. Yes, you are terrifyingly adorable, sitting up in your chair with that cute baby look on your face. And yes, unfortunately, you are still wearing that god-awful pumpkin outfit well beyond the 24-hour holiday period you agreed to. I am so, so, sorry, my man. Let's just blame it on mommy, okay?
The Boys enjoying a lazy Sunday morning, taking the chill off and catching up on the news over a warm cup o' joe.
Is it just me, or could Young Old fit inside Mama K's face? That's awesome.
Teasing Young Old is hilariously, especially when he's hooked into his Krang cart and is unable to exact revenge.
Young Old the Mall Rat lazily conversing over a steaming cafe au lait maternel.
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