Literary Terror

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

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

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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

Dogs and balloons make his world go round.

Young Old, The Movie XXV

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

1. Young Old is a speed demon when he puts his crawl car into gear.
2. 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.
3. 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

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...

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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

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

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

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

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

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...