Young Old, The Movie XII

Shake shake shake...
Shake shake shake...
Shaken baby syyyyndrome.

Lunar Cycle No. 6

Feeling crummy again today, but really wanted to celebrate Young Old's Six Months of Life (yes, late again! Let's just pretend it's February 19th.).

As the creative juices simply are not flowing today, we're going to do this bullet-point stylie:

• Young Old has found his voice, and is wielding it in wildly variate fashions, transitioning from grunts into shrill cries into ghostly howls into raspberries into Wookie gurgles into something resembling human speech. Pretty exciting shit, as I'm a little tired of the whole googoogaagaa act, which has caused my IQ to plummet into the double digits.
• BANG BANG BANG BANGING is the new game around these here parts. Hands smacking the table, rattles smashing into my glasses, spoons crashing into mugs, it's a percussion concert most days. It must have been all that hip hop, and he's just making some beats.
• Young Old has picked up cause and effect. Smack that hand on the water in the bath, and you get all sorts of wonderful results...cries of surprise from Mama K, water flying into the air and all over the bathroom floor, a comatose Papa Old when he slips on the spillage, fun fun fun. Toss that toy on the ground and watch the Folks pick it up and hand it back, repeat ad nauseum. Scream shrilly and, !voila!, expressions of concern. Laugh maniacally and repeat after giving the Handlers a few minutes to recover.
  
• Dude is sitting completely unsupported now. Sit him in front of some toys or a mirror = hands-free parenting! Now this is more like it.
• He's mastered passing objects back and forth between his hands, rotating them to look at them from all angles, but continues to attempt to shove everything that touches his slimy Gollum fingers completely into his mouth cavern.
• He's ticklish. Finally. He has the most wonderful laugh.
• He's acquiring a taste for tantrums. This, friends, is not a welcome development.
• Young Old seems to recognize his name, but more often than not chooses to ignore us, as he has much more important things to do like shoving his pacifier into his ear canal.
• A tentative, yet caring, bond is developing between Young Old and Frisco the Cat. She comes up to him for hair pulling and eye gouging several times a day, and Young Old tells her all about the mysteries of the universe.
• Young Old is obsessed with his Jumperoo, which is basically a Flintstone conveyance attached to gigantic rubber bands. He will jump in this thing for an hour at a time, "whooooooo"-ing the whole time, then emerge from it's restraints with a disturbingly fast heart rate. Young Old, age six months, three massive heart attacks. Seriously though, this is his favorite form of entertainment, and a must buy for all those mentally ill individuals contemplating contraception-free intercourse.
• No crawling yet, but we've been working on his break dancing abilities, and he's now got the 360 degree head spins down pat.
  

Young Old at six months:

I'm Tired So You Get Pictures, Vol. 20

Still sick, but the Visigoths are tearing at the gates, so...

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Grandma A's been coming over once a week for some quality time with Young Old, giving me a day to myself, which usually involves an hour or two at the pub or a coffee shop, catching up on the world, then running a ridiculous number of errands. It really keeps me going, so my deepest thanks, Grandma A!

Auntie Ren, hooking up the Youngling with a nice juicy cellie-induced brain tumor.

Frisco the Cat's way of protesting our lack of attention. Poor, poor kitty.

Grandma A knit these bad ass booties. Young Old thinks they have a delicious flavor.

Young Old, getting his craft on.

Young Old's face displays exactly what he thinks about Ms. Stewart. I concur, little buddy.

Contact either Young Old or myself if you'd like to be jumped into the Cardigan Mobb. Bring your loafers, mayne.

The Official Diagnosis

At the doctor's office the other day for a baby wellness visit, while she was checking out Young Old's vitals, Dr. Perm Puff, obviously enamored with the Little One's shining display of personality, turned to us and proclaimed:

"He is sooooooooo NOT autistic!"

Whew. That's a relief.

[Apologies. The trip to Illinois a week ago, away in Hood River last weekend, arriving back home with a horrible cold...these things have conspired against my sincere desire to keep you all updated with the little hobgoblin. -Ed.]

Young Old's First Camping Trip

A few weeks back, Young Old, Mama K, Aunt T and I headed out west to the coastal Ft. Stevens State Park for an overnight camping trip, The Boy's first. We were to stay in a yurt, a less rustic, and certainly less nomadic, version of the Mongol Horde's choice of sleep shelter. As a lifelong backpacker, used to spending the night outdoors in nothing but a sleeping bag, this was the ultimate form of wilderness luxury...solid raised floor, waterproof canvas walls and roofing, electric lights, comfortable beds, locking front door, table and chairs, and even a small space heater...oh, the excess of it all! We had chosen this form of accommodation so as to best transition Young Old into the world of nature from his previous world of solely experiencing an urban environment. The experiment was a resounding adventure-filled success, complete with ancient shipwrecks, raccoon-like Mongol invaders, crumbling Civil War/WWI/WWII forts, magnificent sunsets, and most importantly, the glowing smile of a young child in the thrall of utter wonder and delight.

A few photos:

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The price is certainly right, and with the proper curtains...

On second thought, it is a bit dreary...

Finally, some time to myself.

Well, I don't think we have to worry about Young Old enlisting when he comes of age...

Baby Khan in his proper element.

"Thanks, Parental Unit, let's do this again sometime!"

Chico Comes to Portland

Young Old's Auntie Brin and Uncle Kev recently headed north from Chico for a weekend visit.

Obviously, they instantly fell in love with our little super zygote:

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"Okay, we can be friends."

As a courtesy to our friends who haven't previously become acquainted with Young Old's prodigious vomiting abilities, we often equip the young'n with a puke sponge so as not to scare away the newcomers. You're welcome, Kevin!

Keeping warm in front of the fireplace with the So-Cali girl.
"You guys were fun...come back soon!"

MacGyver Parenting

Parenting is all about the art of improvisation. Diapers don't come cheap, so when the damned sticky tab rips off into your hand, it's time to break out the duct tape (a good solution to many of life's problems).

Here's Young Old inspecting my work:

Loading Up That Bag of Tricks

A few of the new skills Young Old has been steady working away at lately:

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Making my job a whole lot easier.

Dude loves creating his own Yoga poses. This is Backwards Monkey Fingers.

Yep, that's Young Old sitting up unsupported, a feat which he has yet to master, but which lasts a few seconds longer every day. Before I know it, he'll be able to sit on his own barstool when we hit the pub after a long day's work.

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We're off to Illinois to visit Mama K's family until early next week.

See you then.

I'm Tired So You Get Pictures, Vol. 19

Young Old marveling at the sheer dorkiness of Papa Old, seen here working the system by making free phone calls on his xBox. Take that Verizon!

The Wee One enjoying an Aunt T back rub.

The Married with Children/Al Bundy transformation is now complete. Take this as a warning to would-be stay at home dads.

While we've managed to stave off the brunt of Young Old's vomit issues with some mild baby antacids, he still sports a semi-permanent spit-up pattern on each and every article of clothing attached to him. What a lovely smell you have, my boy.

Mama K getting in some much needed playtime with Old Man Young after a long day at work. We're already counting down the days until her summer break, when she can spend more than a few hours with him before the day is done.

Educating Young Old on the wonders of beer in preparation for the formation of a father-son brewing operation later this year. Keep your eyes peeled for our first release, the hoptastic Infant Pale Ale.

Bed Heads

The seven o`clock wake-up hairdo.

The Many Faces of Young Old

The facial varietals of Young Old, spanning a two-minute period.
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A Stink Eye, if I've ever seen one.

Demonic possession, or unloading the milk supply, who knows?

Young Old dishing out his James Dean imitation.

Enjoying the love.

The Two Stooges in action.

Young Old mean-mugging for the cover photo of his debut LP, Puke, Milk, and Shit: The Life and Times of MC Young Old Vol. 5 Months.

Five bucks says, he's one happy baby.

Uncle Danpa, thanks for the wonderful photos.

Young Old, The Movie XI

Young Old wilin' out.

We're not nearly well enough prepared for the temper tantrums to begin. I bid you farewell, last crumbling measure of sanity.

Young Old, The Movie X

Our plan to reintroduce Young Old into the wild is progressing nicely, as this week we taught him how to speak Owlish.

I feel like I haven't spoken a single English word in five months now.