From Old to Young

Afterword Final Postscript Epilogue

2011-10-30T17:45:00.000-07:00

This is the end, folks.

It's taken me well over a year to come to terms with the idea that I would no longer have the time to write regularly about Young Old and his maturation, despite not having put fingers to keypad towards this end since September, 2010. I blame it on 9-11 "anniversaries", I blame it on my thinning hair and expanding waistline, I blame it on the current NBA lockout, I blame it GOP-induced depression, and I blame it on writer's cramps. But mostly I blame it on the newest addition to our family, Youngest Old, who arrived this last June [Please stop reading this now, and head immediately over to my dear wife's blog http://thegiftofjune.blogspot.com, where Aram's adventures are currently being chronicled]. What with all the pre-game financial finger-biting, the timed jackrabbit bed-sporting, an eternal incubation period, and the resultant bundle of living, breathing, palpable joy, time has just sneakily slipped past my ambitions to fully document the second and third years of Young Old.

Yet I refuse to play catch up. Aside from this final briefing, Young Old and his little brother are too disturbingly awesome to waste precious hours each week on cutesy "posts" and "photo journeys." I just want to absorb every moment with them, to savor every movement, every spoken thought, every misdeed and triumph, no matter how trivial or momentous they may be to myself and others at the time. I intensely love Mama K in ways I'll never fully understand, but with my children, I know why I love them. At first, I must admit, it was a mystery, seeing these crumpled little bloody man-wizards bursting out of my wife, and feeling a seemingly undeserved intensity of love for them. But now I understand. I love them because they are me, because they are my wife, because they are independent beings that simultaneously need me and want nothing to do with me, because they can viciously hate me one moment but unquestionably love me the next, because they are something I will never own or understand, because they are my future and my demise, because they take life from me and replace it with feelings of fatherhood. How can you fail to know a love that has such power to scramble your very notion of self? I no longer reside in a cogito ergo sum understanding of being, but one more aligned with they think, therefore I am. I am their's, and the feeling is exhilarating.

And exhausting. I more fully understand why parents oftentimes seem aloof, distant, disconnected, depressed, and distracted. Their bodies and minds have been willingly invaded and put to a use that doesn't serve self. They are at the whims of their new student-masters, and though often feel a reminiscing regret for pre-child past lives, the vast majority wouldn't consider giving up on the lifelong experiment.

...and, boy, aren't there some trade-offs. Sleep, friendships, careers, creative pursuits, drugs, sex...name something you love, and be prepared to leave it by the wayside. It might be waiting there when you come back for it, or it might be lost forever.

But look at what you gain for your proffered offerings:

[Click here]

If that didn't stir something in you, either life has been unkind (for which, truly, you have my deepest sympathy), or you're under 25, and haven't yet lost your inherent lust for risk of self. Or my kids aren't as cute as I think, which I can live with. However the time will come when the longing will hit you to give away everything in service to another [see: Earth's population = ~Seven Billion]. I'm not saying it's the right thing [see: Earth's climate = fucked], but it's an amazing thing.

When it comes down to it, it's about lowered expectations, something that clearly doesn't jive well with current trains of thought, i.e. capitalism, meritocracy, and the guided evolution of the individual. You have to let go. Coming into parenthood, we still fully expected to maintain our pre-child life and the attached hopes and dreams. There was no way this "thing" was going to derail my madcap booze-fueled adventures, trips to exotic locales, plans for becoming a "writer," or come between my wife and I. Once Young Old arrived, there was no way we were going to offer a pacifier, use disposable diapers, give vaccines, allow plastic toys, use non-organic clothing, serve anything but homemade baby food, place our child in a playpen, or utilize a television. Well, welcome to fucking reality. Agree or disagree, but pacifiers made him happy, disposable diapers were easier and allowed us to spend more time with our child and less time scraping shit into the toilet and doing three loads of laundry a day (oh, and we tried, believe that), plastic swords are fucking awesome to a three-year old and cause significantly less pain than their sustainably-harvested wooden cousins, they don't make organic versions of San Francisco Giants World Series Championship hoodies, most homemade baby food is disgusting, playpens are better developmentally and psychologically than closets and Tabasco sauce, and you can't watch RoboCop on a book. Vaccines still scare the shit out of me, but scientific reasoning can sometimes be persuasive.

Really, though, the kind of lowered expectations I'm thinking of are those I place on Young Old. At the end of my life, am I going to want to fret over whether he became financially successful, pursued an important and powerful career, leaned towards my side of the political spectrum, read and watched the novels and films I found choicest, devoured my every culinary treat, or shared my love of '90s gangster rap?

No, son, I will not. What I am going to fret over is this...

Did I live up to your expectations?

Jasper, my friend, I'll never stop trying.

From Then 'Til Now

2011-10-30T16:47:00.000-07:00

May, 2010 - September, 2011
Click for larger pictures, and please, enjoy:

Let's walk this road together, son. Much love.

Y2-D2

2010-09-29T16:33:00.000-07:00

The constant exposure to advanced technology has certainly changed the way young brains develop. Young Old has long since graduated from updating his Facebook page and Tweeting his recent bowel activity; his latest hobby is coding the latest Droid applications, substantially lessening the financial hit to our budget from my decision to be a stay-at-home. Before turning two, I've vague recollections of struggling to keep my clothes on and my vomit in my mouth, never mind mastering mouse-scrolling and the unlocking of cell phones:

Young Handyman

2010-09-23T16:00:00.000-07:00

Young Old recently helped me construct several raised garden beds. Here's the master craftsman at work:

Familial Visit

2010-09-23T13:37:00.000-07:00

[Damn near forgot about updating this blog. The Boy is insanely busy right now. 100% required interaction during his waking moments, and his nap times have become my nap times. Doesn't leave much time for writing...-Ed.]

Nana, Sir Bruce, and Uncle Briguy came to The Stump a few months back. Here are a few of the highlights:

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The Motley Crue, sans umlauts:

Young Old, The Movie v.40

2010-07-30T17:05:00.000-07:00

[We've been very busy this month, people. Here's a little somethin' somethin' to tide you over until I get back on track next week. Also, a heads up...this blog will be coming to an end sometime around Young Old's second life anniversary near the end of August. More on that later. -Ed.]

Young Old, The Movie v.39

2010-07-08T13:28:00.000-07:00

You have to respect the innovation.
The keytar at work.

I'm Tired So You Get Pictures, Vol. 40

2010-07-05T11:22:00.000-07:00

Young Brando. [Thanks for not punching my face in, Mr. Biker. -Ed.]

Face snuggles with Auntie Ren-Ren.

He insisted on keeping his water bottle cold with my favorite koozie. Go 'Merica.

Shake those money makers, son.

Doctor J schoolin' Uncle J in some one-on-one.

Tut-tut, Young Robin.

The Young One and his pal Dixon "smiling" for the camera. Well done, gents.

Our boy rode this firetruck around for three days straight, refused to walk, shouting wee-ouuu wee-ouuu in an upper register scream the entire time. The joke's on us, Grandma Alaska.

Potty Time! Excellent!

2010-06-20T19:06:00.000-07:00

It's funny, these milestones we choose to place upon pedestals.

Take baby's first real shit.

Well, folks, the moment is here, the plane has arrived.

Drum-roll please...
Nice shot, my man. You've officially graduated from "Wipe my Ass, Daddy" Academy and are now ready for the University of "Wipe your Own Ass."

One of many test runs:

I'm so proud of you, Young Old. More than you'll ever remember...

Roll Call

2010-06-17T10:47:00.000-07:00

I've got mixed feelings about this. While Big Boy (or Big Boi for those familiar with my musical leanings) is a wonderful nickname, and a self-endowed one at that, I'm still holding out in my heart that he'll adopt Young Old as his own. Time will tell...

Young Old, The Movie v.38

2010-06-16T14:47:00.000-07:00

Coach T schooling Doctor J in the basics:

I'm Tired So You Get Pictures, Vol. 39

2010-06-15T13:01:00.000-07:00

A pensive Young Old, waxing philosophical at the local playground. When bringing up the aretaic turn to his fellow 'groundlings, they've taken to tossing bark chunks at him. Get used to it, son; we're surrounded by idiots.

The album cover to Young Old's first rap album, appearing in stores near you sometime in 2026.

Mama K trying out the whole "two kids" idea. Someone, please get that other kid away from her before she's infected. [Just kidding, Lilly-Goat. We love you. -Ed.]

Modeling for The Thinker. Little known fact: Rodin was a time-traveler.

Go 'Blazers. Better luck next year.

Young Old can't hardly wait to attend school. You and me both, buddy.

I've been wrong before, but something is telling me that he's ready for his nap.

Noodles + Book = Best babysitter ever.

Sir Young enjoying a spot of tea with Lord Old. Rice cakes subbing for crumpets.

Lilly-Goat and Young Old getting so fresh and so clean clean.

Young Old, Lunar Cycle No. 21

2010-06-05T11:10:00.000-07:00

Our little Womb-bat at twenty-one months:

Young Old, Lunar Cycle No. 20

2010-05-31T22:45:00.000-07:00

Young Buckethead at twenty moons:

Whoa, I Know Kung-Fu

2010-05-28T13:05:00.000-07:00

Whether this is precious behavior or bad parenting is your call, but we sure had a blast recreating scenes from Shaolin and Wu-Tang.

Daddy Raps-A-Lot

2010-05-19T10:40:00.000-07:00

This is just embarrassing on so many levels, but needed to be shared, if not only to highlight the difficulty of listening to my favorite genre of music when in the company of my dear son. Thank goodness for Pandora.com; we've been working extremely hard on our "Young Old Friendly" radio station. Sorry, Dre Dog, you will not be making an appearance in the rotation for at least another few years.

Grindin'

2010-05-17T17:55:00.000-07:00

Making a pot of coffee with Young Old is easily my favorite part of our morning ritual. He's almost got the entire process down; the french press is up next. And no worries, Mama K...he refuses to drink the stuff, no matter how often it's offered.

PCP Playtime

2010-05-14T13:08:00.000-07:00

The interaction between Young Old and his toys is often so surreal I sometimes find that I have to pinch myself to confirm that I'm not, in fact, hallucinating images of dwarves awkwardly riding gelatinous ponies.

Young Old, The Movie v.37

2010-05-13T12:16:00.000-07:00

Please don't report me to CPS. It's all about new experiences. Thanks.

Young Old, The Movie v.36

2010-05-10T11:40:00.000-07:00

A sound only a parent could love, I'm sure.

I'm Tired So You Get Pictures, Vol. 38

2010-04-28T10:55:00.000-07:00

Parkour expert Young Old practicing l'art du déplacement.

This dude is a true carbaholic. Anyone know of a 12-step program for bread addiction? Google wasn't much help on this one...

Mama K expressing her love on Valentine's Day, after reading the sweet note that Young Old sent her in the Portland Mercury.

My days are filled with moments like these. Life is good.

The Fam.
Taking a stroll at the Whitaker Ponds near our house. Young Old giggled the whole time with delight at all noisy avian residents. Quack, honk, chirp, laugh. Repeat.

Playing a game of Spot the Three-Eyed Fish in the toxic sludge that is the Columbia Slough.

Well, Young Old's got the whole walking stick thing down. It's amazing what he picks up from his very brief observations. Picking his nose and flipping off cops, though...not so amazing.

Show us yer meth teeth, Young Trailer Park Boy.

Young Che gearing up for the revolution.

Young Old the Biker

2010-04-27T11:27:00.000-07:00

GrandPops recently gifted to Young Old his first bicycle (well, technically it's a quadricycle). They had a great time taking it out for a spin:

Save his time sleeping, Young Old rarely parted from this red beauty for the better part of two weeks.
Exhibit A:
Thanks for the thoughtful gift!

I'm Tired So You Get Pictures, Vol. 37

2010-04-19T12:25:00.000-07:00

I think this is a competitive sport somewhere in Arkansas. Anyway, Young Old's pretty good at it.

Young Country getting his twang on. [For the record, we don't listen to country music and neither should you. -Ed.]

The Boy must have inherited my genetic proclivity towards neatness, as lately he's been obsessed with wiping down every surface in the house. Good thing, too, because since he's come into the picture, we haven't properly cleaned the house a single time.

See what I mean? Adorable or OCD? I guess we'll find out. By the way, he insisted on his sleeves being rolled up. Amazing what they pick up from simple observation.

I came into the bedroom one day after hearing Young Old wake up from his morning nap, to find him laughing hysterically at having put this hat on all by himself. It was pretty funny, though I'd imagine you had to be there.

Communing with his [1/64 Cherokee, at this point, I think. -Ed.] ancestors up at Pork & Mike's Country House. Bang them yams, one.

"Yet another escape foiled by that damn waist strap. Sheeee-oooot." And don't knock the "pants tucked into the socks"-look Young Old has going on. Only parents will understand.

This picture is awesome in so many ways as to be mostly indescribable.

A very sick Mama K and Young Old...

...equals a very sick Papa Old and the continuing sickness of Young Old. Nasty flu insectoid knocked us out of commission for damn-near an entire week. There's nothing quite like the personal hell of three family members performing simultaneous projectile vomiting. We had to shit our drawers in shifts, it got so bad. Yuck, is right.

Young Old, The Movie v.35

2010-04-14T11:01:00.000-07:00

Please excuse the dorky parents and watch for that booty shake. Obviously, we've been listening to a lot of James Brown lately.

Young Hippy's Drum Circle

2010-04-13T12:20:00.000-07:00

Something you should have learned by now, GrandPops. This dude marches to the beat of his own drum, and no other's. Thank goodness.

Weddin' Crashin' '09

2010-04-09T12:20:00.000-07:00

As further proof of the insane number of weddings we attended last year, here are a few more photos that folks have sent us in the time since:

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The crusty appetizer is really ruining this touching moment, bud.

The Crew remains mostly childless, but we're working hard at spreading the infection.

Distant Cousin Alexis and Young Old running game on the dance floor.

Cover of GQ magazine, October 2009. [That's the Geriatric Quotient, FYI. -Ed.]

My ingenious method of keeping Young Old silent and immobile during his Auntie Ren's ceremony consisted mainly of a steady stream of previously sequestered salted-pretzel sticks. Feel free to bite this style.

No need to wait till age 21 to have an intellectual conversation with your son over a frothy brew AKA Dada Juice.

Mama K and Young Old get on the Good Foot.

Young G's by the 1, 2, 3s

2010-04-08T13:38:00.000-07:00

We didn't even have to work on this one. Coming from my genetic pool, it was instinctual.

Young Old, Lunar Cycle No. 19

2010-04-03T00:35:00.000-07:00

Young Crapper at nineteen months:

Astute readers will notice the mini-toilet. Yes, that's right, potty training is now underway. More on that in a later post.

I'm Tired So You Get Pictures, Vol. 36

2010-04-02T01:25:00.000-07:00

I wish I knew what he's thinking, how his design process works, why he picks one color over another and utilizes this line here and that curve there. Us simpletons will never fully grasp the mind of genius. Regardless, more fodder for the baby book.

Nessa Bug indoctrinating Young Old in the ways of the video game addict. Welcome to the club, little buddy.

Auntie Annie and King Richard participating in a very unorthodox version of musical chairs. Obviously, you all lose.

I have to admit, I'm a bit jealous. I'd sure like a ride in the dump truck.

Young Old has turned into a voracious reader. There is no satiation for his literary cravings. He'll ask you to read the same crummy kid's book 487 times in a row, then look morally offended if you decline to participate in the 488th recital. Glancing around, he often spies his next victim, then bombards that individual with boundless cute and undying irritation until they succumb to his wordy desires. It's all a bit out of control. We find ourselves running at the site of a book in Young Old's greedy paws, friends have stopped visiting, and the UPS gal won't even deliver to our home any longer after getting sucked into a marathon reading session a few weeks back. But being overjoyed at the prospect of some verbal relief, we're more than happy to play dumb when unknowing victims stumble into our humble abode. Auntie Annie, tag your it. Our apologies, but better you than us.

All aboard the Flying Suppository, aka Portland's aerial tram. It was a good hang, guys. Come again soon. Seriously.

Monster mash. Graveyard smash.

My two favorite people. BFF for reels.

Originally, we'd intended to disguise Young Old's given name on this weblog, but if you've been watching any of the videos, we've spoiled that plan a hundred times over. The name's Jasper, but he'll forever be a Young Old. [Thanks to the Bellingham crew for the beautiful table and chair set. Easily Jasper's, I mean, Young Old's most used and cherished belonging. -Ed.]

Frisco the Cat has been taking things surprisingly well lately. She still won't give Young Old the time of day, but at least incidents of hissing and clawpawing have dropped significantly since she lost that ocular sphere of hers. Maybe it's age, but since the surgery, she's mellowed out a great deal. This, of course, hasn't stopped Young Old from doing all in his power to molest and harass her on a near constant basis, relentlessly chasing her around the house, creeping up on her blind side, and attempting to shove any object he lays hands on into her empty socket. Frisco, you're a true champ.

Ho. Ho. Ho. Round 2.

2010-04-01T14:23:00.000-07:00

Seeing as Young Old's previous experience with Christmas consisted mainly of being stuffed in a giant sock, we thought we'd give it a proper go this time around. As you can see in the following images, he met the barrage of symbols, lights, and gifts with almost a detached boredom, as if he were saying, "This is OK, but next time I think I'd rather just skip the big to-do, lay low, run around naked, and drink bottled beverages." Yep, he's taking after his father already.

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Neither Mama K or myself had ever done the whole Macy's WinterwonderlandsitonSanta'slap-thing. We'd heard from other parents that it is THE Christmas event. They practically prepare for it year-round...and almost had us convinced, too. We arrived, bathed in all the intricate light displays, and cued up to get some one-on-one time with Santa (I needed to let the Big Guy know to put a laptop on my list). Then we got to talking with the other folks in line; apparently, the wait can take up to five hours (FIVE!), and the photos cost, at minimum, the same amount as a kidney replacement. Um, fuck you, Santa. Young Old looked frightened anyway, so we bounced. Don't think this shall become part of the tradition going forth...

Our cute little tree. Don't mind the naked gnome blocking your view.

Thanks for the milk and cookies, bud. The orange was a nice treat, performing double duty in preventing scurvy during the long journey, and helping to trigger diabetic attacks. I love those. The note needs work, though, pal. -Santa [Click on the image to get a bigger, more readable image, if interested. -Ed.]

That "Ho, ho, ho" is pretty terrifying, kid. I probably shouldn't have let him watch Silent Night, Deadly Night.

This book wasn't nearly as good as I remember.

Away in the manger. [One of my favorite photos of the two of us. Thanks, Renze, for gifting this to Young Old. -Ed.]

Props to Santa for being ecologically-minded with the recycled plastic, BPA-free place settings, though I'm sure it was mandated by some agency to offset the methane output of your reindeer squad. Thanks, anyway; he loves them.

"I think I'm getting the hang of this. Here, let me open all of your gifts, too, Mom."

The three Magi (Auntie Ren, Uncle Train and Grandma Alaska) arrived to shower The Boy with gifts. He wasn't too sure what to make of all that frankincense and myrrh, but thought it best to deposit the gold in a college savings account.

Okay, okay, okay. So maybe he did have a good time. Cleaning up, that is. We've trained him well.

I'm Tired So You Get Pictures, Vol. 35

2010-03-27T14:36:00.000-07:00

GWAR! GWAR! GWAR!

Young Old recruited my assistance in building his Radio Flyer wagon, cementing his reputation as an effective overseer. Thanks go out to the Cali crew for this wonderful gift.

The Young Don Juan flirting with our friend Ina...

...then turning around and directing his efforts at her daughter, Coco. Scandalous, Son, scandalous.

Young Old treated his pal Nessa Bug to a fine dining experience comprised of frozen peas and tater-tot casserole. Truly classy.

What beautiful people. I'm a lucky man.

This reminds me of those childhood photos of serial killers that, in hindsight, probably should have clued in their parents to the future that lay ahead.

Naked hang out is Young Old's favorite activity these days. We're prepping him for our summer trip to the Olive Dell Ranch. [Seriously kidding. Nudists are fucking creepy. -Ed.]

Reminds me of that scene from A Christmas Story.
Randy: I can't put my arms down!
Mother: Well... put your arms down when you get to school.

Young Old's first snowman/-woman/-person. He had a blast eating it's abdomen, then spent the next week whining about his frostbitten lips. Can't have it all, kiddo.

Take a Walk in My Shoes

2010-03-20T16:00:00.000-07:00

Or don't...
I'll totally support you, Son, in following your own footsteps, if such a thing becomes possible. I think you need to, um, time travel, or something.

Our Little Earbud

2010-03-17T13:17:00.000-07:00

Let's just hope the perfect parenting he's showered with on a near-constant basis counteracts this brief exposure to old school Triple 6 Mafia.

Buhloone Mindstate

2010-03-14T22:57:00.000-07:00

"it might blow up but it won't go pop" -De La Soul, one of Young Old's favorite groups.

Young Old, Lunar Cycle No. 18

2010-03-11T22:55:00.000-08:00

Prince Valiant at eighteen months:

Young Old, Lunar Cycle No. 17

2010-03-09T17:36:00.000-08:00

Young Old looking absolutely money at seventeen months:

The Pocket Dance

2010-03-06T22:36:00.000-08:00

The latest dance sensation to sweep the nation.

Don't hesitate, just gyrate.

Auntie Ren's Wedding

2010-03-03T11:56:00.001-08:00

So far, this is my favorite photo of Young Old. Perfectly captures the ancient soul lurking beneath his drooling, mumbling, yet utterly adorable facade.

Auntie Ren calming a furious Young Old after the photographer's assistant made a disparaging remark about the Little Folk. Easy there, buddy.

To cut down on costs, Auntie Ren and Uncle Train hosted their wedding at the nearby train tracks. Young Old kept yelling "Choooooo chooooooooo!!!" throughout the entire ceremony. It was hilarious. Seriously though, it was a beautiful wedding, you two. Congrats.

"Step on a leaf, loosen your Daddy's teeth. Man, this is going to be hard..."

Our familial unit getting our photo snuggle on.

Priceless.

Before the big event, Young Old took the opportunity to push crusty food-laden carts around the parking lot and make automobile noises. Dude, this isn't Arkansas.

A dashing Young Old (shirking his duties as ring bearer) escorting his radiant Mama K down the aisle.

The Debonair One charming the ladies. Seriously, parents, please keep an eye on your daughters when Young Old is visiting. We're not looking to be grandparents anytime soon.

Bedtime, Mama.

I'm Tired So You Get Pictures, Vol. 34

2010-03-01T12:27:00.000-08:00

Young Old went through a phase where he was devouring his books. If the old adage is true, he's either going to be a literary genius, or a fish.

Young Old is showing an increasing proclivity for Evel Knievel-like stunts. If we can keep him away from motorcycles and man-rockets, he should be fine.

Enjoying some time out on the back deck. No matter the weather, this dude hates being cooped up inside.

Young Old very carefully decorating a letter to Grandma Alaska.

Getting some quality time in with Uncle Danpa.

Our very own whirling dervish hipster.

Young Old soaking in the sights at the Japanese Garden in Portland with his Auntie Marie. We subsequently had to "rescue" him from his very intentional dive into the koi pond.

Young Old loves him some basketball, or baball as he's taken to calling it. Go 'Zers.

Nerd match. I won.

Papa Old and Mama K celebrating some much-needed baby-free time at a friend's murder mystery birthday party. Thanks to Uncle Scott and Aunt Ali for the assist.

The Inevitable Fart Video

2010-02-28T11:03:00.000-08:00

We worked on this for weeks. I'm so proud.

Thanksgiving Visit to GrandPops'

2010-02-27T12:53:00.000-08:00

Young Old and GrandPops spent most of the weekend bonding aboard a lawnmower tractor. I think John Deere owes us some money for this one.

Watch for the look of pure joy near the end. Priceless.

Bad picture, but the only one taken of Young Old presiding over his second Thanksgiving feast. Let's just pretend that his eyes are drooping out of sheer anticipation for the inevitable tryptophan overload.

Post-feast entertainment provided by Young Old, performing his hit song, "Don't Clap While I'm Clapping, Michael and GrandPops".

Mama K getting all artsy-fartsy. Columbia Sportswear owes us money for this one, too, I'd imagine.

The "boy" archetype, if I've ever seen one. Unidentifiable slimy brown object in hand? Check. Unidentifiable slimy brown substance smeared on face? Check.

Learning the Way of the Pyro with Professor GrandPops.

Young Old enjoying some time at the beach in Northern Cali with Mama K. The two of them are easily the most beautiful scenery for hundreds of miles, forcing the redwoods into a distant second place.

Young Astronaut taking small steps on the moon.

Good visit, Pops. Sorry it took so long to post these...

Young Old Tricks for Treats

2010-02-26T13:42:00.000-08:00

Wait, that doesn't sound right...
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This Halloween, Young Old decided to go as an aristocrat. Boy, he's sure got his finger on the economic pulse of our nation. Those pretzels are probably coated in edible gold foil.

With the mustache in place, the transformation was complete, and Young Moneybags was ready to hit the town for free candy, despite having a personal net worth of over $8.34 billion. Typical.

"Oooooh, Daddy, please get this pooooor person away from me. She's wrinkling my Armani silk wool."

Speaking of tricks, Mama K dressed up like a dead 82nd St. hooker. Portland reference. We joke, because we live it.

Papa Old repped his Sabotage gear, Beastie Boys-style.

Grandpa Alaska decided against dressing up.

One day, he'll hate us, I'm sure of it.

"I knew I should have brought my man-servant to knock on these peasant's doors. Egad, I'd hate to get their poor all over my hands."

"What, no caviar-studded peanut butter cups? No truffle essence chocolate slivers? No squid ink licorice? I doth protest, this is too much to bear."

I'm Tired So You Get Pictures, Vol. 33

2010-02-25T13:01:00.000-08:00

I'm having difficulty recognizing my own son in these photos, they're that old. Ah, such is the life...
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Young Old has been incessantly pestering us for a ride on the Portland Aerial Tram. Seeing as we're fairly broke, we were certainly grateful when his Aunt T came through with a bit of improvisation.

Young Old's typical socialization ritual. His Aunt Luci rolls in to town, bearing friends, and he's off in his own world pumping air into invisible bike tires.

Like I said, his own world.

This "joke" managed to crack him up for months. It was pretty hilarious until he came down with a nasty case of Athlete's Foot on his little paws. The memory of Tinactin is still strong in our noses.

Talk about some "baby blues." Those eyes are already making women around the world swoon.

Grandpa Alaska spent the greater part of a visit teaching Young Old how to attach a halibut hook to a ganion. Several Frisco trips to the vet ensued.

Ah, the younger generation. When not setting hooks, Young Old spent his time coaching Grandpa Alaska on the proper way to text. Unfortunately, Grandpa Alaska now thinks it's acceptable to send us emails filled with phrases like "TLK 2 U L8R!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" Wonderful.

When Mr. Sandman began knocking on Young Old's eyelids, he took to dropping us the hint that bedtime was rapidly approaching by grabbing his blanket and miming his needs. Adorable.

Young Old, The Movie v.34

2010-02-15T21:23:00.000-08:00

[This post is mostly a test to see if Blogger videos are working again. Over a month of broken posts damn near took all my motivation away, but good thing I'm a persistant father. Look for a swarm of posts over the next few weeks. -Ed.]

Our very own Famoro Dioubate:

And, yes, I do need to grow up.

Apologies

2010-02-03T10:43:00.000-08:00

Sorry, folks.
Blogger has been experiencing some technical hiccups the past few weeks, mostly surrounding the plethora of videos that are "Temporarily Unavailable." They're working on it, and when the issue is resolved, we'll jump right back into things.
Thanks,
Papa Old

Young Old, Lunar Cycle No. 16

2010-01-27T13:07:00.000-08:00

GQ Young striking a pose at sixteen months:

Young Old, Lunar Cycle No. 15

2010-01-25T12:27:00.000-08:00

Shoooot, almost forgot about these. Will get ch'all caught up soon. Scout's honor.
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Our terrifying midget at fifteen months:

Wu-Banger Books

2010-01-21T10:17:00.000-08:00

He drove his ATV (thanks, Auntie Seren!) as close as possible to the speakers, so as to get maximum ear damage from the Wu-Tang Clan while pouring over his favorite book.

That's my boy.

I'm Tired So You Get Pictures, Vol. 32

2010-01-20T17:04:00.000-08:00

Young Old truly enjoying the world's biggest apple, given to him by the good folks at the Oasis Project, a local traveling farmers market that hung out near our home this last fall. We went every weekend, and the farmers gradually fell in love with him, earning him a spot on their website.

Young Old loves bath time so much, sometimes he simply can't be bothered with getting undressed for the occasion.

Aunt Chabecita, who traveled all the way to Portland from Chile, ended up spending most of her week here reading to Young Old. He'll appreciate it one day, I'm sure.

Young Old played the part of the tour guide, dragging Aunt Chabecita all over town to show off his favorite sites. For some reason, we spent a lot of time in bars. Might be time for a talk, my boy.

Go Blazers.

I can't thank the Trailblazers organization enough. Their baby-containment devices are ingenious.

The obligatory Multnomah Falls flick. Aunt Chabecita was obviously impressed. Young Old, after his 4,920th visit, was not.

Our adorable little toy glutton at work.

The Adventures of Captain Awesome

2010-01-17T15:26:00.000-08:00

Hear ye, hear ye, my tale-starved brethren. For you must bear witness to the danger-laden adventures of the man, the myth, Caaaaptaaaaain Aweeeeesoooooome.

Fearlessly, he did dodge into traffic, free of the bonds imposed upon him by his Auntie Ali.

With great strength and vigor did Captain Awesome attempt to bury his father beneath the burning sands blanketing the coast of Oregon.

[Insert adorable snapshot of Mama K and the Boy at the beach here, which, sadly, our hateful computer maliciously decided to single out and destroy. -Ed.]

Ravenous wasps of doom failed to strike terror into the iron heart of our intrepid adventurer.

Captain Awesome, creeper peeper extraordinaire.

Woe to the beasts that roam the land. Beware ye of the mighty blows that do rain from The Captain's fists, for he will smite ye with little provocation.

Still, Captain Awesome is but a man, and thusly, requires sustenance to fuel his engines of discovery and might. Ice cream, as always, does fit the bill.

Satiated by the day's accomplishments and advancements, our hero did settle down with an ancient friend, hoping to soothe his racing imagination, which already prepared for the morrow's exploits and endeavors.

And so another episode ends, good readers. Fear not, though, for Caaaaaptaaaaaain Aweeeeesooooome shall return!

Shoot the Cute

2010-01-09T16:19:00.000-08:00

In a rare moment of photogenic temperament, Young Old graced me with the following stills, leaving me to choose between perfection and perfection. It couldn't be done, so here's the whole photo shoot.
==============

I'm with you, parents like me are gag-inducing. But no apologies for the syrup. Imma keep it pouring.

I'm Tired So You Get Pictures, Vol. 31

2010-01-08T20:01:00.000-08:00

Truly, I swear the blog is not yet dead. Blame the holidays, folks.

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Young Old, esta disfrutando el Grito del Delores con Mama K, Jennifer y Taylor. !Viva Mexico!

Blackmail #192.

"What do we want? Milk! When do we want it? Now!" Young Old obviously agrees.

The grand artist at work. Let's just hope there are no severed ears on the horizon.

Aunt Liza holding a wedding-weary Young Old (his eighth of the year!). Congrats, Auntie Megan, it was ab fab.

This kid's capacity to chill is much appreciated.

"Hey Dad, can we snap a photo of me at the top of the slide, like I'm about to head on down, despite the fact that there's no way in hell I'll actually follow through?" Sure, son.

I'd make some sort of inappropriate Barney joke here, but I'm still reeling from the trauma of my own childhood exposure.

Young Old's Annual Holiday Card

2009-12-27T13:22:00.001-08:00

Make a Smilebox greeting

Young Old, The Movie v.33

2009-12-16T18:46:00.000-08:00

Our adorable little handyman:

A few minutes later, we found him outside pouring a concrete patio. Thanks, son.

Young Old, The Movie v.32

2009-12-09T11:15:00.000-08:00

In defense of procreation, Exhibit A:

Young Old, The Movie v.31

2009-12-08T11:27:00.000-08:00

Young Old and Mama K celebrating El Grito at Pioneer Courthouse Square:

Viva Mexico!

Young Old, Lunar Cycle No. 14

2009-11-29T21:07:00.000-08:00

The product of our twinkling eyes at fourteen months:
Hanging out with his GrandPops at the best bagelry West of NYC, Kettlemen Bagels.

Young Old, Lunar Cycle No. 13

2009-11-25T14:03:00.000-08:00

Our little Gerber Gremlin at thirteen months:

In light of his recent Sesame Street obsession, I'm thinking it might be time to retire this shirt.
Or not...

From Old to Young: Changes

2009-11-24T20:33:00.001-08:00

An important announcement, gang:

Starting today, From Old to Young will switch to an infrequently-updated blog. This may come as a sad surprise to all of our loyal readers, but I can't say my lack of frequent posting lately hasn't well prepared you for the "changes" to come. What the blog will look like from here on out is mostly what you've become accustomed to these last few months. I had at one time hoped to keep this thing rolling until Young Old left the coop for his preschool adventures, but at the same time always semi-unconsciously felt that I'd be hard-pressed to continue much past his first birthday, certainly putting in my resignation papers by the time he began toddling around, trailing chaos along behind him.

Not to worry (too much), I'll still be dropping by at least a few times each month to post my favorite photos of the little rugger rodent, along with the occasional video or two. Other than that, I plan to focus on a few non-baby projects that have been brewing about in my cranial cauldron, as well as, continue tossing my sanity into the wind as a stay-at-home-dad.

It's been a wonderful ride, friends. Thanks for reading.

Young Old and Mama K in the News...Again

2009-11-18T13:18:00.000-08:00

View Mama K and Young Old's 4 seconds of fame here. Scroll ahead to just past the 11-minute marker.

Young Old was caught picking his nose. Like father, like son.

Young Old, The Movie v.30

2009-11-16T17:48:00.000-08:00

As a follow-up to yesterday's post, here is Young Old doing more of the same, yet with an assurance and confidence that continues to amaze us.

[Astute readers might notice the change in the numbering scheme for videos of Young Old. Writing "Young Old, The Movie XXX" seemed a bit awkward, and I wouldn't want to be attracting the wrong fan base via our friends over at Google. So, yeah, we'll be keeping it G-rated for all of you folks checking the blog at work. -Ed.]

Young Old, The Movie XXIX

2009-11-15T20:13:00.000-08:00

Having been ran ragged with the reality of Young Old's walking ability, I have only now realized that many of you have yet to see him taking those first few steps. Here's a clip I dredged up from the annals of his toddler history. It makes me realize how far he's developed in the last month or two...he hasn't changed much physically, but his skill set has expanded exponentially. Going back and watching this video is like viewing his twin brother who was repeatedly dropped on his head. Yeah, the one we keep in the basement, and who won't be getting his own blog anytime soon.

Enjoy.

Young Old, Year One

2009-11-04T14:26:00.000-08:00

The moment you've all been waiting for...for almost three months, that is.

Despite being burdened with parents like us and defying all expectations, Young Old has slogged on through and completed his first year of life.

The big ONE. Major accomplishment, bud. Henceforth, we declare this year as 1 A.B. (After Birth...wait, that's just wrong).

Party time...

========================

...Excellent!

Man, Young Old turns one, and he's already scooping in more honeys than his old man ever did. Just stay strapped with the diaper, yo.

Young Old's been pestering us for a pony for the past six months, so hats off to you, Great Aunt Betty Lou, and Cousin Doug, too.

Since Young Old had no clue as to what the fuss was all about, we took it upon ourselves to provide the excited faces. Auntie Nico getting the party started.

Auntie Ali keeps it rolling...Young Old begins to feel the vibe.

Papa Old's excitement seals the deal. Young Old officially lets his hair down...or up.

"Not sure why I'm being showered with gifts, but today is freaking awesome." By the way, that monkey toy is totally flipping the bird. Bad monkey.

Neighbor Lois and Young Old puzzling over where to best extract the milk. Buddy, I'm pretty sure you won't have any luck with that trach tube.

Uncle Green and Aunt Vicious spreading the birthday cheer.

This dog-car was a pretty cool gift, but also confusion inducing. Whenever he plays with it, he makes repeated barking sounds. How do you explain to your one-year-old that the vehicle isn't a canine? I'm just hoping his madness doesn't spread to making vroooom sounds whenever a dog waltzes by.

The always glowing Mama K, carrot cake-maker extraordinaire. Bravo, dear.

The moment of truth. Young Old - 1, Fire - 0.

Having his cake and eating it, too. This was Young Old's first time experimenting with the pure form of the drug we all know and can't resist, that hated bastard named Sugar.

...which is apparently a gateway drug, as he quickly moved on to booze. Thanks for being an excellent role model, Uncle Bobbito.

With the party dying down (and at close to midnight, Young Old's sugar high only now beginning to subside), Young Old took the opportunity to thank everyone for showing up by performing a simply inspired version of "With a Little Help from My Friends"...
Thanks to all who came. Hope you had a good time, folks.

Young Old, The Movie XXVIII

2009-10-29T21:05:00.000-07:00

[Well, scratch that hope for things calming down around here. Had another gang of visitors storm the palace gates, journeyed up to Seattle for a four-day marathon of Auntie Ren wedding prep, ceremony enjoyment, and heavy drinking, then capped it all off with surgically removing Frisco the Cat's right eye ball. Awesome. -Ed.]

First time on the swing, and he doesn't even need our help. The nest feels empty already.

Young Old, The Movie XXVII

2009-10-21T14:52:00.001-07:00

Ill-suited for life amongst humans, Young Cub yearns to be with his ursine kin.

I'm Tired So You Get Pictures, Vol. 30

2009-10-19T12:01:00.000-07:00

Chronicling the waning days of Young Old's first summer...

========================

Young Kenshi polishing his skills with improvised household weapons. Burglars beware.

"Man, when's Mama coming home..." Looks like a page from Where's Waldo.

Young Old & Co. (Papa Old, Uncle Green, Aunt Vicious) cruising the streets of the Stump during the Sunday Parkways event.

Tummy time?

Soaking up rays with GrandPops. Very James Dean look, son.

Mama K and the Young One scoping out the contestants of the Soapbox Derby coasting down the slopes of our very own extinct volcano.

Generational chilling.

Young Old's version of speed reading.

Peach picking with Auntie Ali and Mama K at Sauvie Island Farm.

On behalf of Mama K, many apologies for making you rock the chinstrap. In retrospect... not so cool.

Alaskan Adventures Vol.5

2009-10-14T13:36:00.000-07:00

[Sorry about the infrequent posting for most of the month. Frisco the Cat has developed herpes in her eye (please, skip the grossly inappropriate bestiality jokes...I've already made them all), requiring a near constant presence at the vet's office and round-the-clock medicinal administrations, both of which are not only extremely annoying, but happen to take up a huge chunk of our time. We're hoping to kick her current issue to the curb soon, so things should be looking up around here. -Ed.]

Wrapping up our Alaskan journey...

========================

Young Old and Young Sage formed the Boardwalk Hooligans, a biker gang that terrorized the civilian population for the greater part of two weeks. This is noteworthy, as Young Old can't actually ride a bike, but nevertheless sent the locals fleeing in terror through his sheer potential for mischief.

Speedin' like a demon on 101 South/...[Sorry, obscure Dre Dog reference. -Ed.]

Cap'n Young sailing the seas aboard the HMS Bathwater. Watch out for that man-eating enema tube, matey. It's the bane of pirates the world around. [That hose acts as the "shower head" for those seeking something above and beyond the typical Alaskan bath experience. -Ed.]

A truly fascinating article on the bloody ethnic violence occurring in Bosnia (the issue was at least a decade old) had us both captivated. Young Old kept pointing at the pictures and mumbling "Meatloaf! Meatloaf!" Before CPS comes a-knockin', I'll fess up...it was a nice peaceful article on the desert dogs of Namibia (or something).

The Boys out back, building a fire to ward off the blackbird-sized mosquitoes. Young Old didn't get a single bite, while Mama K and I slumped home to Portland looking like a pair of hormonal teenagers.

Don't freak out...that blanket appears to be a lot closer to the fire than it actually is.

Grandpa Alaska teaching his Young Grandson how to tool around in the skiff. Me not being much of the boating sort, the little guy is already infinitely more proficient than I am, and took over the controls whenever we needed to get around during our stay.

Thanks, Grandpa A, we had a wonderful time:) See you in a week.

Alaskan Adventures Vol.4

2009-10-08T20:21:00.000-07:00

More photos of the Young One adventuring in Alaska for your visual enjoyment:

======================

"You guys can't trick me...I know this motor is attached to the world's biggest boat, so let's get rolling."

Playing conductor at Grandpa Alaska's. Please note our feeble attempt at baby-proofing the garbage can.

Young Paratrooper preparing for Operation Market Garden...a few decades too late.

Grandpa Alaska taking his feeding responsibilities very seriously.

Likely the least flattering photo of Young and Old in existence. We hope.

Grandma Alaska, taking a break from her chef duties at The Lodge to get in some Young snuggles.

Birth Control #348...chilled blueberries and aged river otter.

Birth Control #349...pureed salmon-berries and tender, still kicking, grizzly cub.

Young Old sneaks into the pantry, and of all the intriguing foodstuffs, he goes straight for the cat food. A man of good taste, if I may say so. That shit is delicious.

Starting the day right with a cup o' joe. Don't worry, Mom, his is decaf.

Alaskan Adventures Vol.3

2009-10-03T10:13:00.000-07:00

Alaskan video barrage:
==========================

Young Old ate his fair share of wild blueberries...and the accompanying worms.

That's a raven, in case you were wondering. Young Old knew what was going on.

Young Old and Grandma Alaska gettin' down with the yokel locals, singing about Dirty Dick. Don't ask.

Alaskan Adventures Vol.2

2009-09-30T16:50:00.001-07:00

Sorry, folks. Been hanging out with a nasty virus for the past few days. Here's the second batch of photos from Young Old's Great Alaskan Adventure, this time finding him on an excursion to the dilapidated Dude Ranch with a few of the locals.

=======================

Floating our way out of Port Alexander. Young Old is puzzling over why he's the only crew member of the HMS (this is Canada, after all) Skiff that's required to wear this ungodly-uncomfortable flotation vest. That's just the breaks, kid.

Young Old, playing Ewok, near the infamous Dude Ranch, of which, in our sheer excitement, we failed to capture a picture. Use your imagination...crumbling wooden structure, bear excrement, and the rotting remains of Gold Rush-era crusty miners. Pretty fun spot to vacation at, actually.

Young Old and Young Sage panning for gold...which they promptly ate. Us parental figures spent some time panning diapers afterward.

Young Old and Young Sage, building us a cabin at our mining claim. They were pretty pissed when they found out we were only going to be there a few hours. Nice cabin, though.

Breaking for lunch. That apple cost us damn near close to six bucks, so you better enjoy it, pal. Seriously, Alaskan produce is not cheap, which is probably why most residents fail to procure a proper source of vitamins during their short, hardscrabble lives. I kid...the plentiful and nutritious blueberries are off the hook, line and sinker.

Instructing the Young One in the art of rock tossing. He got it after a few more tosses, and we've been replacing windows ever since.

Young Old arrived little more than a helpless pup, but left as a ferocious warrior.

The adventurers: Young Old, Mama K, Papa Old, Aunt Molly-O, Young Sage, and Uncle Ryan.

Heading home, satiated with excitement, our journey ended...but not without a rousing game of Spot the Shipwreck. We both lost.

Alaskan Adventures Vol.1

2009-09-26T20:38:00.000-07:00

Here's the first batch of photos from our trip up to Alaska way back in July. Enjoy. Belatedly.

==========================

This about sums up how much fun we had on the flight from Portland to Seattle to Juneau to Sitka. Young Old, formerly quite the trooper, waited until this trip to develop a severe case of Conduct Disorder.

As you can see, that seat belt lasted about 3.41 seconds.

"Freed from one restraint, only to land myself in another. Man, this sucks."

Playing tourist and making monster sounds in downtown Sitka. Rrrraaarghhhh...

Cold chillin' with Kari at the Backdoor Cafe. He's pouting because we wouldn't get him a latte.

"Dude, Dad, float planes are awesome!" We could only nod, butts firmly clenched, terrified for our lives.

"Mama, what's the matter? Don't you think this is awesome?" [Note to readers: Mama K gets motion sickness from walking too fast. Poor Mama K. -Ed.]

In Port Alexander at last. Young Old collapsed in the corner, physically and mentally exhausted. His arch-nemesis Young Sage immediately greeted him with a retina-searing 60000-Watt spotlight, to the face. Welcome to the Laughing Raven Lodge.

"Even though I'll likely never see again, sure, we can be friends." Seriously, isn't that just too precious?

Mama K and Young Old breaking out their B-Boy/Girl poses for the cover of their next album, Boots, Boardwalks and Blueberry Beats.

I'm Tired So You Get Pictures, Vol. 29

2009-09-23T12:45:00.000-07:00

This is one of my favorite batches. Some real priceless shit, here, yo.

================================

"Doggies don't go *pant* *pant*...they go *ruff* *ruff*. Get it? Now you try."

Showing my Young Son what he has to look forward to once he potty-trains. To be honest, I'm not so sure it's much of an improvement.

An older flick of the Young One in the arms of his Uncle ReidSeed. Hey, bud, your fly is down.

Young Old, now with 100% more macular degeneration! Also, "You'll shoot your eye out, kid."

The cover photo for Young Old's first album, Hoodies and Hobos.

"Um, Mom...that naked slobber-thing is a little too close to my milk bladder for comfort."

"What's with the faces, yo? I just wanted to say hello. So rude."

Mama K's failed attempt at configuring the Moby Wrap. Young Old looks like one unhappy paratrooper.

A love of back-scratching sessions runs in the family. GrandPops hands down the tradition.

Young Old held the screwdriver steady while we lowered his crib. Such a good helper.

The Life Aquatic with Young Old

2009-09-19T12:04:00.000-07:00

Right before we headed off into the Alaskan bush, our good friend Becky, now known as Auntie "Dub," stopped by for a brief visit. And in Portland, if it's a summer visit, you know it's a river visit. It also happened to be Young Old's first deep water experience outside of his tepid baths and a few uber-chlorinated pools.

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Bliiinded by the light. Sorry, river rats.

Young Old gets the pep talk from Aunt T. Check out that ridiculous hat.

Breaking for lunch. He looks so grown up here...believe me, he's never this calm while eating. He's usually much more animated, a lot like a Tourettic acrobat miming a Whirling Dervish, i.e. fun to watch, not so fun to feed.

Um, Dad, I'm beginning to think that water is over-rated. Get me out of this thing now.

Ahhhh, much better. A soft lap, no straight jacket, shade, and a rock. This is the life.

Mmmm-mmm, giardia lamblia. Note to future parents: rocks are the perfect teething implements.
Thanks go out to Aunt T and Auntie "Dub" for the photos!

Young Farmhand

2009-09-17T15:05:00.001-07:00

Taking sweaty advantage of a human jerky-inducing heat wave (more like heat stroke) earlier this summer in Portland, we strapped Young Old into his marsupial pouch and headed out to Kruger Farms on Sauvie Island for some primo berry picking.
============================

Mama K showing off her Old World harvesting pose.

Young Mikey likes it.

We are so getting busted by Kruger security for eating their product without paying for it.

Young Old, Mama K, and I gots mad love for migrant workers. I don't know how you folks can do it, as our back and hands ached after a mere two hours of "work." Respect, and thank you.

Near the end of the day Young Old was too sun-weary to care much about his modus eo ire itum, which is unfortunate, because tractor rides are awesome.

"Thanks, handlers. That was fun. Good luck wiping all of these seeds out of my ass crack for the next two days!"
Thanks for the photos and the company, Auntie Ali!

I'm Tired So You Get Pictures, Vol. 28

2009-09-14T12:20:00.000-07:00

These posts are becoming a bit of a misnomer, as if I was so tired, I'd just skip it altogether. But for you, Young Old, no mere weariness will keep me from trucking on.

=======================

Young Old chomping at the bit, ready to dig into some delicious Indian food with our dear friends Porksie and Country Mike (whose identity shall remain a mystery. Right, DB Cooper?).

Mama K and I celebrating our five-year anniversary, sans the Young One. I'm still madly in love with you, K.

Training The Son in the art of grilling the perfect burger. He was a quick study...here's to hoping Frisco the Cat's hair will grow back one of these days.

Lord Young presiding over the banquet we poor peasants doth prepared in his honor.

The Fam enjoying a neighborhood stroll.

Young Wizard tapping into the energies of the universe to stop time. When he hit the "play" button once more, we found him on the couch eating Cheetos and playing video games. Not exactly what I'd call using your abilities to their full potential, bud.

His good cheer is downright infectious.

As I was saying...

It even affects folks he's never met before, such as his Auntie Wisconsin. We call it his Smile Control. You are now getting haaaaapy.

Thanks Becky and Aunt T for the pictures!

Birth Control Pt. 178

2009-09-12T20:22:00.000-07:00

I think this video speaks for itself:

That's a Mama K clean-up, if I've ever seen one.

Visit with Finn

2009-09-11T11:15:00.000-07:00

A while back, Young Old and Mama K headed up to Washington to visit with our friends Katie, Emmett, and their adventurous son, Finn. This kid is full of life, so it's always pretty cool to see Young Old soaking up some new tricks whenever they hang out.

Here's our Young One begging Finn to bounce, and probably getting more than he bargained for:

Story time with the incredible Mama K. Thanks Curious George, you've taught my son to sneak down by the river with our mop in an attempt to catch fish. Great lesson.

Finn thought it would be really cool to try and pick up Young Old...by the head. Thanks, buddy, that'll save us loads on chiropractor bills.

Literary Terror

2009-09-09T12:40:00.000-07:00

Reading books to your son should be an innocent enough affair, right? Close physical bonding between parent and child, improved word recognition, visual stimulation, verbal cadence training, etc. Maybe now we should add to that list the following item: induced fear.

Observe:

A close up of our horrified subject:

Another poor victim of terror:

To hopefully avoid a lawsuit, I must give credit where credit is due:

Young Old hasn't sleep for weeks, and now flinches at the sight of water. Parental advice: Pre-screen the reading material and save your child a lifetime of therapy. [Just kidding, Ms. Intrater. Please, don't sue me for libel. It's a joke. -Ed.]

Young Old, Lunar Cycle No. 11

2009-09-07T12:29:00.000-07:00

In keeping with tradition, this eleven-month update is extremely tardy, and as usual, obsolete. Enjoy!

======================

Young Old's achievement awards were handed out in the following fields:

Standing Without Assistance - Necessitating 100% more vertical baby-proofing!
Waving - Making those goodbyes that much more difficult. Precious.
High Fives - Suddenly, it's like we're at a round-the-clock fraternity party, Young Bro.
Pointing - Making those formerly-obnoxious grunts and whines now much more understandable.
Stair Climbing - Heeello, baby gate!
Button Pushing - Good thing I just saved my progress on that important Word document, because Young Old decided it was time to turn off the computer. Likewise for the DVD player, the TV, and the Xbox 360. I hereby rename you Young Luddite.
Separation Anxiety - Making us feel like the coolest people in the world!
Preferences - Man, I miss the days when you just went with the flow, pal. Now it's do this, don't do that, likes and dislikes. What a hassle.
Confidence in Abilities - Young Old, just because you can climb on top of the refrigerator doesn't mean that we'll catch you when you jump off. Just something to think about.
Mimicry - Mama K, we really need to stop swearing. Young Old shouting "Cock fart!" at the wedding made me feel like we raised him in Arkansas.
Recognizing Objects - Making those moments when a car goes by chock-full of precious gear-shifting grunts, and those other times hanging out with Grandma and her colostomy bag an embarrassing eternity of stomach-churning lip-gurgles.
Constant Motion - I'm tired. So tired.
Light Obsession - Yes, Young Old, that's a light. Uh huh, that's another light. Yep, yet another light. Great, more lights. Okay, bed time, bye bye light, hello darkness, my old friend.
Teething - Two hours less sleep every night...check. Dangerous levels of baby Tylenol...check. Sore nipples...check. Whiskey for the whole family...check.
Snuggling - Finally. Young Old, it's good to know the love is mutual. Baby hugs are the shit.

Our little slobgoblin at eleven months:
Thanks, Becky, for the photo!

Young Old, The Movie XXVI

2009-09-05T12:18:00.000-07:00

Dogs and balloons make his world go round.

Young Old, The Movie XXV

2009-09-02T12:10:00.000-07:00

I'm posting this video to demonstrate three very important things:

Young Old is a speed demon when he puts his crawl car into gear.
Young Old is becoming more and more obsessed with our bathroom habits, giving me hope that we'll have him toilet-trained well before he turns seventeen.
Something that had, in my mind, been up for dispute until this irrefutable evidence presented itself...Mama K does indeed wash her hands after taking a dump (Sorry, love, couldn't resist).

I'm Tired So You Get Pictures, Vol. 27

2009-09-01T14:54:00.000-07:00

Mama K recently returned home from her sister's four-day bachelorette party, and today she returns to work to prepare for the new school year, meaning I've been watching Young Toddler for five days straight now, mostly solo. I'd always thought I had this bottomless fount of energy that would carry me through this parental period, but hell, our little critter could sap the energy out of the Sun if it was capable of childcare. He's napping now (praise all that is good in the world), so let's get down to business...

======================

On our way home from San Francisco to Portland, we played tourist at the Marin Headlands, snapping this pair of photos in front of yon Golden Gate Bridge.

We arrived back in Stumptown for the most important national holiday of the year, Fireworks Day. Having little time to prepare, we were forced to shop from the legally-sanctioned tents of terror, though after our less-than-spectacular evening display, Young Old and I vowed to hit up the reservations the next go 'round.

I'm not sure which cause of Young Old's wound is worse, the fictional account of him getting a little too cocky with an M-80, or the more truthy story of Mama K accidentally snipping The Boy's finger with a gigantic pair of crafting scissors. Either way, we'll be expecting a visit from Child Protective Services any day now.

Learning about techmology at the Oregon Museum of Science and Industry. His IQ visibly jumped 12 points by the day's end.

Frisco the Cat's patience apparently has its limit. After Young Old's stitches heal, I'm sure he'll never yank her whiskers again.

Young Old learning about the birds and the bees from his randy toys. Whew, glad that conversation's out of the way.

Young Old and Auntie Ren scoping out the sights atop a Puget Sound ferry. GrandPops, the posed photo pointing must be genetic.

"Well, Mama K, I can see you're having a blast, but frankly, how about you just concentrate on changing my soon-to-ooze-and-explode diaper. Great."

Young Old boycotting smiles at his 37th wedding this year (congrats, Steph and Ian, it truly was a wonderful celebration). Only another dozen left, my friend.

Young Old's First Sand Picnic

2009-08-28T20:08:00.000-07:00

During our not-so-recent trip to California, Young Old enjoyed his first sandy coastal experience at Ocean Beach in San Francisco. Simply put, he was ecstatic, practically giggling the instant his squirmy little toes touched icy damp sand. He reveled in the usual beach activities we all participated in as children, i.e. forgetting to watch for sleeper waves and getting his pants soaked, dining on a scrumptious meal of sand and seaweed, and the classic favorite...digging for China. You need to work on your technique, little buddy, as you barely made it through this side of the Earth's upper mantle.

A few snapshots:
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"This is very important, Young Old. Remember to never turn your back on the Ocean, as She is a vengeful creature. Oh, hey there, sleeper wave!"

Young Old sets out on his expedition to the Far East. With so few provisions, no wonder it ended in disaster.

Seriously, what happens to the dirty, care-free and adventurous creatures we all began life as? Society sure crushed my little inner fun boy, as there's no way in hell I'm getting sand in my latte. Seemingly, this sentiment is apparently genetic, as neither GrandPops or Uncle Danpa traded in their well-cared for appearances for cold gritty wetness.

"Um, Mom and Dad...can I eat this?" Sure thing, son. Whatever makes you happy. Just try to munch around that decaying seagull.

This unbridled joy is what makes all those sleepless nights and explosive diapers pencil out, though I must admit his joie de vivre was short-lived once we aimed the water hose his way. Sorry, pal, no sand in the car seat.

A Star is Born

2009-08-27T12:53:00.000-07:00

Young Old recently discovered Guitar Hero while visiting his Nana. After a few minutes spent observing the awesome shredding skills of his Mama K and Aunt T (you ladies rawk!) and randomly picking away at the buttons, he burst into flames (hairspray and cigarettes don't mix, my son) and was born anew into a Metal God.

Observe:

While I must admit that his new lifestyle is not without its discomforts (all night parties, diseased groupies sleeping on our couch, and rampant heroin usage), it does have its benefits (all night parties, diseased groupies sleeping on our couch, and rampant heroin usage).

Rock on, little buddy, rock on.

Young Old, The Movie XXIV

2009-08-25T20:24:00.000-07:00

Life, it seems, has gotten the lion's share of our time yet again, leaving little energy for the blog. We've slept in our own beds for a grand total of three weeks this summer, and have recently attended our seventh wedding out of eight for the year. Not much of an excuse, but I'm rolling with it. Anyway, got another week and a half before Mama K heads back to work, so here's to hoping I'll have a few extra hours to play catch up for y'all. Seems that once again, we're almost two months behind with photos, videos, stories, and the ever-popular lunar updates. A seemingly insurmountable challenge, I know, but I've got to do right by my boy and make him proud of his Papa someday. So here we go...

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Young Old says howdy to all his fans out there in WWWville.

Year One

2009-08-19T13:40:00.000-07:00

Happy Birthday, son.

It's a big day for you, Young Old, though I'm sure you won't grasp the importance of it for years to come. You've chosen a life with us, and we welcome you with caring arms for the remainder of our time with you. You've graced our lives with your presence in our family, and for that, we are eternally grateful to you.

With forever and always love,
Papa Old and Mama K

[B-day bash photos to follow sometime in the next week or so.-Ed.]

3...2...1...Liftoff

2009-08-17T20:21:00.000-07:00

And the moment you've all been waiting for...

Young Old took several steps not but 20 minutes ago, greedily reaching for another delicious sip of my world-famous Good Earth sun tea.

He then repeated his stutter step 3.72 minutes later, proving that, indeed, this is not a fluke.

All systems go.

That's one small step for The Boy, one giant leap for parental responsibilities.

Wish us luck...

Cali Travels v.3

2009-08-16T17:23:00.000-07:00

Okay, one more Cali post, this time detailing Young Old's Uncle Danpa's wedding, and then on to some other shit, I swear. Loved the weddings, folks, but I gotta tackle this mounting list of the Young One's more recent activities ASAP.

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One very excited Uncle Briguy, snatching up Young Old during a lull in the festivities. The excitement quickly withered after Young Old burped a good one out his butt shoot.

Three generations of the Old Family. I'm probably thinking what you're thinking...I sure got screwed in the hair department.

Young Old somehow sneaked into the "siblings" photo, radically altering the theme. We struggled for weeks determining what category this photo would fall into, finally settling on "etc."

Young Old and his (sorta) newly-wed Uncle Danpa (they married last year, but held the formal celebration on their one-year anniversary). Soon after this photo, we caught my brother teaching his nephew about the wonders of pond scum and the crunchy texture of dragonflies. Thanks, dude...I was avoiding that particular lesson.

Young Old taking a much-needed break from the 106 degree weather, as well as all that ridiculous cheek pinching. Seriously, what's up with that tradition?

Behold Sir Young, who doth acted the part of a most chivalrous knight, did keepeth a distressed Damsel K from feeling yon effects of a truly hellacious atmosphere.

All a man needs in life, is this right here:

The Cult of M__________ gathers 'round. Young Old proceeded to devour Auntie Marie's bouquet. We're still wiping pollen chunks out of his butt crack and fending off honey bees almost two months later.

Young Old, enthralled by our corrupting lessons of mischief, mayhem and general roguishness.

Aunt T gave us a break from The Boy, allowing us to finally gulp down some vittles and bits. Thanks, yo. We owe you one.

Young Old, escorting Second Cousin M around the reception grounds. And no, he's not walking unassisted yet, so stop asking. You'll be the first to know, believe that.

Oh yes, we get down.
Thanks for the party, Dan and Marie. Good times, and again, congrats.
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[Thanks to The Bruce for most of these fine photographs.-Ed.]

Cali Travels v.2

2009-08-12T17:22:00.000-07:00

Finally, we've made it back to civilization. It was an adventure-fraught journey, full of long waits for delayed flights, greasy diner food, cramped seats, one seriously pissed-off child, ridiculously anal security agents, grumpy airline staff, long shuttle rides, and about 3.5 hours of sleep (punctuated at 12-minute intervals by Young Old repeatedly climbing down from the bed and attempting to program the hotel room's electronic safe...BEEP BEEP BEEEEEEEP). As I'm sure you can imagine, it was awesome. Anyway, give me a few more days, and this thing should be back on something approaching a normal schedule. Thanks for being the darling little patient readers that you are...

Anyway, here's the second batch of photos from Young Old's first trip to Cali. This series, along with the next set, concern the 17 weddings [Only three, Old the Exaggerator.-Ed.] we attended in seven days.

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A dazed Young Old, wondering what all the fuss is about. I think he's still attempting to figure out why daddy tried to hang himself several times that week with all those fancy silk ropes.

Young Old, representing at his Uncle MattyMatt's wedding at the Oakland Museum, posing up with his Uncle Green and Uncle Arturo. He acted like a champ during all three ceremonies/receptions, but in his own little act of rebellion directed at the week's chaos, he steadfastly refused to look at the camera.

"Okay, I can do this. One down, two to go. Oh, but it's sooooo meltingly-hot outside! My Portland-made body just doesn't agree with 95 degrees Fahrenheit," The Boy muttered. Sensing an imminent case of heatstroke, we retreated into the cavernous safehouses of nearby wineries for refreshments and A/C. By the way, Young Old loves his new complementary wine corker.

Mama K, striking as always, helping the Young One keep cool at my Cousin J's wedding at the Kunde Winery. Lovely setting, and we all had a great time. Sadly, all this sun bleached and damaged Young Old's silky-dark, flowing curls, leaving them crispy, blond, and thin. His hairdresser Auntie Ren was so not pleased.

Aunt T and Nana assisting Sir Young in his attempted removal of the Sword from the Stone. Needless to say, he was unsuccessful in his attempt at finding something more meaningful to do with his time, like slaying dragons and uniting Britannia, resigning him to a lifetime of scrubbing dishes and massaging our feet.

Our hot, sweaty little family.

Young Old getting in some quality time with Papa Old's brother Danpa. Note the trashy absence of his pants. Nothing like rocking the diaper at what was likely a $40,000 wedding. Truly classy, my boy.

Young Old, bored by the traditional Christian ceremony (no offence, God-fans, but the thing could use a bit more spice), hit the snooze button, missing out on a great second half, a modified Hindi wedding ceremony. It was wonderful, Cousins J and A, thanks for the invitation.

Our little Sweat Monster sliming it up with his Great-Grand-Papa. Great-Grand-Nami not pictured, but still loved.

The Funky Young One showing Mama K how to "Get on the Good Foot."

Mama K and Aunt T, barely containing a Young Old rearing to literally dehydrate himself from dance overload. The kid's a natural. A few more years and he'll be hitting the child star circuit, finally earning his keep around these parts.

Young Old getting in a brief visit with the J Bride and trying very hard not to stuff that delicious-looking spiderweb she's wearing on her head into his slavering maw. Thanks for exercising your restraint, little buddy. In fact, you were amazing all week, and I hereby officially nominate you for the category of Best Behaved Baby Boy. You done good, son.

[Thanks to Aunt T and The Bruce for several of these photos!-Ed.]

Word Received from the Old Family

2009-08-08T12:26:00.000-07:00

Hi gang, John here.

As a friend of Young Old's father, living nearby in Sitka, Alaska, I was given the solemn duty of updating his readers on the status of their family out there in The Bush. Via smoke signal, Papa Old wanted all of you to know that the Internet has officially refused to function, precluding all further posts until their return to civilization. Furthermore (and the signals became a bit illegible here, Old's survival skills obviously suffering from a bit of rust), it sounds like the weather is so terrible that the float plane operator they're relying on to extricate them from their fishing village is paralyzed with fear, and incapable of flying out to the rescue until things clear up. I couldn't pick up from Old's scattered wisps of smoke whether or not they had any semi-definite plan in place, but there seemed to be mention of a 300-mile cross-country triumphant return via grizzly-dodging bushwacking, or alternatively, some attempt made at harnessing a polar bear and rafting home. He did make it abundantly clear that all was well with Mama K, Young Old and Grandpa Alaska.

I'll be sure to keep you in the loop as the smoke drifts my way.

Best,

John

Message to Mama K's Nipples: Watch Out!!!

2009-07-29T19:33:00.000-07:00

Freeing our minds from the constant nagging worry of Young Old's in utero exposure to vast quantities of radiation while Mama K slaved away in the Chernobyl wastes, and saving himself from a lifetime of dentures, Young Old this morning decided to finally get the show on the road, breaking a tooth through his bottom gum. I guess that explains the flu-like symptoms, the week of sleepless nights, and the quantity of saliva only exhibited by blood hounds and mental ward patients.

Bravo, O' Toothed Son, bravo.

Pictures to follow once he allows us access to his mouth, which might be a few months.

Cali Travels v.1

2009-07-27T15:30:00.000-07:00

[Well, people, I had all these great blog ideas to share with you, but unfortunately, Port Alexander's "upgraded" Internet system effectively functions at the speed of a 14k modem (remember those?)...well, to be fair, it's more like a 56k modem. Pictures take close to fifteen minutes each to upload...when the system is working at top capacity. When it's not, even text-blogging is simply out of the question. I'm thinking you'll be lucky to get any more than this single post while we're up here. The wilds of Alaska, indeed.-Ed.]

A few weeks back, our little family traveled south to our old stomping grounds in Northern California, in and around San Francisco, to attend and participate in a slew of weddings. It was Young Old's first visit to Cali, and we took him on a whirlwind tour of all the places that had become important to us (my hometown, where we met in college, The City, etc.). It was a great adventure, though we barely had a moment to breath while bouncing around from one event to the next (which is why, slow Internet included, Alaska is a great place to be right now..but more on that later, of course).

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Young Old had a wonderful time hanging out at GrandPops' house in Crescent City. One of the mornings we were there, my father saw that Young Old had woken up quite early and recognizing our need for another hour of sleep, he grabbed The Boy and they spent some quality time together. A precious moment, if I've ever seen one.

Easily my favorite picture of Young Old and his GrandPops. I've a feeling these two are going to become true and great friends over the next few years.

Young Old getting a hug from our good friend Luci-Dog while waiting for a table at Renata's Creperie in downtown Arcata, where Mama K and I fell in love while attending Humboldt State University, big dirty hippies that we are. Great seeing you, Luc.

Young Old, straight loungin' at The Thirsty Bear in San Francisco for Uncle Danpa's birthday celebration. Our boy was enamored with the flamenco dancers, and has since become obsessed with Andalusian gypsy culture.

Young Old hanging out with Mama K's good friend Elena's latest addition, Young Mia. The two certainly bonded in their brief time together.

Maybe even bonded a little too well... Son, at least buy her a bottle of milk before rubbing diapers.

The Bruce showing Young Old, Young Mia and Friend Elena the proper technique to feeding goldfish. Since then, Young Old finds it hilarious to "feed" us with a properly thrown handful of Cheerios.

Young Old assisting his Nana with the preparation of dinner. Just last night he made us a wonderful meal of sauteed truffles and bouillabaisse, followed by maple-bacon profiteroles and sherry. Thanks, Mom, it's good to finally be putting the kid to use.

Young Old keeping us safe in the backyard pool.

The certified life guard springs into action when an obviously distressed Mama K begins flailing her arms for help.

WARNING! Don't peek below unless you want to see some ex-Chippendales models rinsing off. Seriously though, Young Old loves the shower, while simultaneously being terrified of it. It's a hilarious experience. Plus, it's really the only way to thoroughly get that accumulated food/poop crust dislodged from his exterior.

Young Old enjoying a nightcap of fermented salad dressing with his Nana and The Bruce.

Young Old, The Movie XXIII

2009-07-19T13:02:00.000-07:00

Anyone ever see that Mike Judge film Idiocracy? This would be a perfect clip for the show of the future, Ow, My Balls!.

Okay, so we're off to the Canadian territory of Alaska for some much needed R&R. I'll attempt to get in a few posts if we can find someone with web access...the Internets were only recently discovered where we're going, so this might prove difficult. Until then, loyal viewers. So long!

Young Old, The Movie XXII

2009-07-18T21:52:00.000-07:00

Our little poop shooter working the crud cannon: